One Wild, Crazy, Zombie Night

  “So, that’s what this is about?” She shakes her head, laughing softly. “You think Eva is going to fall for you because you tell her the truth?”

  “No, not at all.” I wrap my fingers around her throat, but don’t squeeze tightly. Yet. “But, to get what I want, I need a cooperative Eva. And the only way I’m going to get a cooperative Eva is if everyone else around her seems worse than a demon.”

  “Good luck with that,” she chokes out, her pulse pounding against my fingertips.

  “Oh, I don’t need luck.” I tighten my hold. “Demons always get what they want.”

  I start to strangle her, but pause as Ryleigh blasts me with a nasty look, either pissed off or hungry—I can’t quite tell.

  “What?” I ask her innocently. “I can’t just let her walk away. She might try to convince Eva that she didn’t admit to turning you over to the demons. Or she could go to the society.”

  Ryleigh continues to glare at me, baring her teeth.

  “Fine, then what do you propose I do?” I ask. “Because I’m not just going to let her go.”

  Ryleigh taps her finger against her purplish-blue lips as her gaze sweeps the area. When she spots a poster for the freak show taped to a nearby tree, her eyes light up. “Free … eek.”

  I stare at her blankly. “You want me to turn her into a freak?”

  She nods.

  I tilt my head to the side, unsure whether I like the idea or not. “What kind of a freak?”

  She shrugs. “Clow … nnn …?”

  Opal grips my fingers, struggling to breathe. “Help …” she wheezes.

  I ignore her and ask Ryleigh, “Clowns are freaks?”

  She shrugs again. “Eva … frade … them.”

  “Eva’s afraid of clowns?” I ask, and she nods. I deliberate, but only for a moment. “All right, I guess a clown will work, then.”

  “No … please,” Opal begs. “I’m sorry … And if you let me go … I can help you … I know things … about Eva …”

  “I’m sure you don’t know anything more than I do,” I tell her unapologetically. “And all I need from you right now is for you to be out of my way.” I release her neck, and she falls to the ground. But she quickly recovers, jumping to her feet. Then she takes off running toward the street.

  “Help—”

  I cut her off, throwing a curse straight at her back. She drops to the ground flat on her face, letting out a squeak. She lies motionless for a beat or two before clumsily staggering to her feet. Her eyes are wide as she stares down at her arms, now covered in polka dot fabric. White gloves cover her hands, her hair is neon pink and in a high ponytail, white makeup covers her cheeks, and her lips are oversized, her nose bright red.

  She glares at me and opens her mouth, but only a giggle escapes. She repeats the movement again, and another giggle falters from her lips.

  Slapping her hand over her mouth, she shakes her head and runs out of the trees. Ryleigh starts to go after her, but I grab her arm and shake my head.

  “Let her go. She won’t be able to tell anyone anything other than jokes.” I tug Ryleigh to the left as I hike through the trees and toward the tents set up on the other side of the forest. “You and I have more important things to take care of. Starting with telling Eva the truth.”

  12

  Ryleigh

  I’m not really sure how this happened. How I ended up in a big red tent in the middle of a freak show with a demon standing beside me. Sure, he’s a very attractive demon with dark hair that hangs in his red eyes, silver metal decorates his face, and he’s lean and tall, which is always a bonus for someone who’s well above average height. But he’s a demon, and I’m a zombie. And only a few days ago, I was dead. That’s a lot to process when you really have time to think about it, and I have plenty of time on my hands right now.

  “I’m bored,” I tell Max. At least, that’s what I try to say. The words that leave my lips sound more like, “I’m a whore.” Yeah, go zombie language! Insert huge, massive sarcasm.

  In all seriousness, being a zombie sucks. All I seem to think about is brains. Brains, brains everywhere. You’d think I’d be more upset about Opal being a traitor, but nope. She’s barely a blip in my mind. My thoughts are consumed by braaainssss. And don’t even get me started on the fact that I actually ate brains from a couple of dead bodies in the morgue. It didn’t wig me out at the time, but now that I think about it …

  So gross.

  Then, as soon as that thought crosses my mind, another chant overtakes my brain.

  Brains, brains, brains, brains, brains.

  If I had my wand with me, I’d probably cast a freeze spell on everyone and partake in another feast. Unfortunately—at least for me—I lost my wand somewhere between leaving Eva’s house and the morgue, which probably means it’s long gone.

  I wonder if they let zombies buy wands?

  I start to laugh at the idea, because there’s no way anyone is going to let a zombie into a magic store. Then I get distracted by a round man with an overly large head.

  I bet beneath that big head is a big, juicy brain.

  “I don’t care if you’re bored,” Max says to me while reclining against the side of the tent. “Stop eyeballing every head that walks by. People are going to start questioning if maybe you’re a real zombie and not someone dressed up as one.”

  My eyes sweep around the tent where several people are dressed up in strange, eccentric costumes, and yes, that includes one zombie, not counting me.

  “Sorry,” I grumble then sit down on the dirt ground. It feels strange not caring about getting dirty. Back when I was alive, all I cared about was my looks.

  My attention floats toward the oval mirror beside me, and my lips droop into a frown. Of course, I don’t care about my looks now because there’s nothing to care about.

  I’m hideous.

  Sighing, I look back at Max. His attention is fixated on the entrance to the tent as he waits for Eva to show up. He may say this is all part of the plan, that he’s worried she won’t show up, but I have an inkling he might like my fake, little sister more than he’s letting on. Unfortunately for him, Eva has been in love with Hunter for years now. And I know Hunter feels the same way about her, too, even though he hasn’t admitted it.

  I don’t know if he keeps his feelings hidden because the society has forbidden all of us to get too close to Eva, or if he’s afraid she doesn’t feel the same way about him. Either way, I’ve often encouraged Eva to tell Hunter how she feels, hoping the guy would finally man up and declare his true feelings for her; say to hell with the society forbidding him to love Eva. I don’t know what they were expecting when they told us to get close to her. That we’d just pretend to like her? Eva isn’t the kind of person you have to pretend to like, which makes the keep-your-feelings-in-check rule impossible to follow.

  “She’s going to be late,” Max mutters, checking his watch for the millionth time. “Dammit, if she doesn’t show up, I’m going to punish her big time.” He seems pleased by the idea, which almost makes me smile.

  Dumb demon is totally whipped.

  “She’ll show up,” I grunt. “In fact, she’s already here.”

  He glances down at me with his brows knit. “How do you know?”

  I sniff the air. “Because I can smell her brains.”

  Max stares at me kind of proudly. “Well, that’s an impressive talent. Is that a zombie thing?”

  I shrug. “I have no idea.”

  “Maybe we’ll have to test it later on.”

  “Later on? Am I going with you somewhere?”

  “Didn’t I tell you that I’d help you with your little decaying problem?” he asks with his brow cocked.

  I pick at a piece of loose flesh on my arm. “Yeah, but you’re a demon. so I just assumed you were lying.”

  “Well, I might not be,” he says with a shrug. “In fact, I’m pretty sure I might not be.”

  I don’t know whether to believe him or not. Wh
at I really want to know is, “Why are you helping me?”

  He shrugs, staring ahead at the entrance of the tent. “Let’s just say I have a soft spot for zombies.”

  Strangely, I think he is speaking the truth, which is rare for a demon.

  Still, all I can do is cross my fingers and hope he helps me before I end up becoming nothing but a decaying corpse of a mess who spends all her time eating brains.

  13

  Evalee

  “This place is so cool,” I mumble, in awe of our surroundings.

  The massive domed tents, the fire shows taking place, the dancing, the twinkly lights, the array of eccentric costumes everyone is dressed up in. Add all that to the night sky above me and the scene is absolutely perfect. If only I weren’t here to meet up with a crazy demon who’s stolen my zombie witch fake sister.

  Le sigh. My life is getting really complicated.

  “It is, isn’t it?” Peyton leads us through the crowd, and again, I’m in awe as people move out of the way to create a path for her.

  “Why is everyone just moving out of your way?” I ask, inching closer to Hunter as a guy blows flames in my direction.

  It’s all for show, of course. At least, I hope so.

  “Because I’m a vampire.” She spans her arms out to the side and people rush to create more room for her. “And vampires are respected here.”

  “Man, they really must be freaks then,” Hunter taunts, though even he seems dazed by all the dazzling lights and flashy costumes.

  I lightly pinch him on the arm. “Hey, be nice.”

  He rubs his arm, which is already welting.

  “Sorry, I forgot about the whole vampire strength thingy.”

  Honestly, I haven’t forgotten about it at all.

  In fact, it’s all I’ve thought about from the moment I drank blood from Peyton’s arm, which is as disgusting as it sounds. But the power pumping through my veins right now, the coordination, the strength, the sight, it’s wonderful.

  I’ve never been coordinated before. This is kind of awesome.

  Just to test out my new powers, I spin around on one foot, and then leap through the air.

  Hunter shoots me a quick warning look before redirecting his concentration on the crowd. “Don’t distract me while I’m keeping a lookout for demons.”

  “How is this distracting you?” I repeat the spin then end it with a bow.

  His gaze flicks to me again. “You’re crazy if you think doing that isn’t distracting every guy who can see you. Your dress barely covers your ass when you spin.” His gaze dips downward to my legs. “Not that it’s a bad view. I just don’t think the entire freak show should get to see it.”

  I cast a glance at the mob of people crowding around us. “Newsflash, Hunter. If they’re staring at us, it’s probably because of Peyton. Either that, or I’m drawing in attention with my succubus powers.”

  Hunter rolls his eyes. “You do realize succubus don’t use their powers all the time, right? They have to turn them on.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t know how to control mine,” I point out. “So maybe I’m using them unintentionally.”

  “You’re not,” Peyton chimes in, snatching a goblet of blood from a blood booth as we pass by. “The only power you can use right now is vampire power.” She moves the goblet underneath my nose. “Doesn’t that smell good?”

  I waver. “It kind of does … Maybe I could have just a tiny sip.” I start to reach for the goblet.

  Hunter smacks my hand away. “No more blood,” he warns. “It’ll just take that much longer for the powers to fade from your system.”

  I heave a frustrated sigh. “You’re such a blood drinker pooper.”

  He shakes his head, restraining a smile. “And you’re the most distracting girl I know.”

  “Is that a bad thing?” I wonder as I move away and around a clown with neon pink hair.

  Man, I am not a fan of clowns. Never have been. This one is extra creepy, with the come hither look she’s trying to give me.

  Then she crooks her finger at me.

  Um, yeah, no way am I going over there.

  “It’s a bad thing when I’m trying to protect you,” Hunter carries on the conversation as I return to his side. “My attention should be on looking out for demons, but I’m distracted by your long legs in those knee-high socks. Seriously, why couldn’t you have just worn jeans?”

  I throw him a sugary sweet smirk. “You know, those charming lines of flattery would work if I hadn’t witnessed you flirt with every pretty—beautiful,” I correct myself, and his lips quirk, “witch you crossed paths with.”

  “You think I’m feeding you a line right now?” He takes my hand and presses it against his chest. “I think your legs are gorgeous, but extremely distracting.”

  The truth of his words burns through our shared magic. I may have swooned myself into a state of ditzy dreamland, but the clown comes running up to me and ruins the moment.

  “Beware of the clock,” she giggles hysterically. “Beware of the clock. Beware when the clock spins backward.” Giggles, giggles, followed by more giggles.

  I’m about one step away from peeing my pants, when Hunter thankfully pulls me into his arms and steers me away from her.

  We walk soundlessly for a while before he finally asks, “Are you okay?”

  I nod. “Clowns just give me the creeps. That’s all.”

  “I know they do.” He rubs his hand up and down my arm, erasing the goose bumps.

  His words strike a chord in a way that I’m not sure if I love or hate. But he’s right. He does know me. He knows almost everything about me.

  “I don’t really know much about you.” I frown at my own words.

  He turns his head, his gaze snagging mine. “We can change that.”

  I carry his gaze. “How?”

  His lips part. “I—”

  “Don’t touch the bubbles,” Peyton shouts with panic in her eyes as she whirls around toward us right as a bubble pops in my face.

  14

  Evalee

  “Why? What do the bubbles do?” Hunter asks right as one pops against his forehead. His eyes widen. “Ah, shit.”

  Peyton sighs heavily. “Well, I guess it’s too late now.”

  I’m about to ask her what’s going to happen, when suddenly, the strongest urge to touch Hunter rises inside me.

  “You’re so pretty,” I say, cupping his cheek. “I’ve always thought that.”

  A trace of a smile rises on Hunter’s face, but then his grin falters. “What was in the bubbles?” he asks Peyton.

  Instead of answering him, she hands him a card.

  “Shit,” he says as he reads the note on the card.

  “That’s the second time you’ve said that in the last thirty seconds.” I stroke his cheek with my fingertip. “That’s okay, though. I still think you’re pretty.”

  “Well, for the record, I think you’re pretty, too.” He sweeps strands of hair out of my eyes. “But you should also know that someone slipped some love confession potion into the bubbles.”

  “Oh.” I rack my brain for why that’s bad, but all I see are confessions waiting to be divulged. “Does that mean you were slipped some, too?”

  “Well, it’s in the bubbles, but since I have this.” He taps the collar of his shirt where the love potion repellent pendant is hidden. “I’m not affected.”

  “Well, that’s not very fair.” I sulk. “Who would want to do this to me?”

  When he hands me the card, my pout deepens.

  Evalee,

  I told you I would get my revenge. Inside the bubbles is a bit of love confession potion that will force you to reveal your true feelings to Hunter. And I can’t wait to enjoy watching him crush your heart.

  Sincerely,

  Claire

  Crap. Through all the madness, I’d completely forgotten about how Claire texted me and threatened to get me back for accidentally spilling that she had a crush on Troy. This was
back in high school, and the only reason I spilled the beans is because I was blasted with a spilling secrets spell.

  Well, I guess she’s finally getting her revenge, because I’m about to pour my heart and soul out to Hunter.

  “Hunter, I need to tell you something,” I say, then take a deep breath. “I think—”

  He stops me with a kiss while pulling my body flush to his. He winds his arm around me and finds my ass as his tongue parts my lips. But as quickly as the wonderfully sporadic kiss started, it ends as Hunter pulls away.

  “I don’t want to hear it like this.” He kisses me again before turning toward Peyton. “Just get us to the tent so we can distract her.”

  Peyton nods and walks forward while Hunter fuses his lips against mine. He kisses me deeply while leading me somewhere, and I easily follow, completely trusting him. By the time we finally do come up for air, I’m breathless and we’re standing in a big red tent. And we’re not alone.

  Max, the sexy Gothic prince demon, and Ryleigh, the zombie witch, are standing near the far back wall. Max takes one look at Hunter’s arm wrapped around my waist, and then shakes his head.

  “So, you forgave him.” He tsks me as he pushes away from the wall of the tent. The chain attached to his beltloops jingles as he makes his way toward me. “Eva, I’m so disappointed in you. And I thought I told you to come alone.”

  “Like I would let her come here alone to meet you,” Hunter says, drawing me closer to him.

  I feel the strangest tug toward Max and nearly run for him, but luckily, I keep my feet planted. As an extra precaution, though, I loop my arms around Hunter’s waist.