The White Rabbit Chronicles

by Gena Showalter

  “I’m fine with calling it catching butterflies,” Trina said.

  Kat smirked.

  Mackenzie gaped at Trina.

  “What?” Trina shrugged. “I’m confident in my masculinity.”

  I snorted. Trina might look like she could lift a bus, but her heart was as soft as marshmallows.

  “You should talk to the boys and get it over with, Mac.” Reeve ran her finger over the rim of her shooter and licked away the chocolate. “Kat looks ready to drag you over there.”

  “True story,” Kat said with a nod. “Just seconds away.”

  “If she does,” Reeve continued, “the last five minutes will become your happy place.”

  “Fine.” A scowling Mackenzie pushed to her feet. “But I’m not going to try to charm them.”

  “As if you could,” Kat said, and Mackenzie’s scowl darkened.

  “You’ve got this in the bag.” I truly believed that. Mac wouldn’t have to use charm. Not with a face like hers.

  All of my friends had model-perfect faces. And yet, each was so different.

  Kat, with her straight dark hair and hazel eyes, was girl-next-door lovely. Reeve, with her brown waves and doe eyes, was traffic-stopping stunning. Mackenzie, with her black curls and emerald eyes, was child-of-an-angel exquisite. And Trina, with her short spikes and black-rimmed eyes, was punk-rocker cool. I was the oddball, with pale hair and eyes so blue they were freaky.

  As Mackenzie trudged closer to the boys, a shadow fell over our table.

  Kat squealed with delight and threw herself into the arms of the culprit.

  No need to glance over to figure out who had just arrived. Frosty, her on-again, off-again boyfriend.

  They had a weird relationship, because even when they were off, they were on. Like, all-over-each-other on. I’d never seen two people more bat-crap crazy for each other.

  She peppered his face with kisses. “You came!”

  “And you look amazing.”

  “Obviously.”

  Ha! Such a perfect, confident response. Such a Kat response. I’d have to remember it the next time Cole complimented me.

  “I couldn’t stay away.” Frosty combed his fingers through Kat’s hair. “I believe your last text said, and I quote, ‘If you aren’t here within the next ten minutes, I will probably forget all about you and fall in love with someone else.’”

  My girl had such a poetic way with words.

  Lucas, as attractive as ever in a polo with the sleeves rolled up to display his dark arms to perfection, stepped out from behind Frosty. He nodded at Trina, peering at her for several seconds beyond polite. A lance of awareness arced between them. Well, well. I’d suspected they were secretly seeing each other, and this just cinched it. Good. They deserved a steamy dose of happiness.

  Kat wrapped her fingers around Frosty’s wrist and pulled him closer. “I’ve always believed open lines of communication are the key to making any relationship work. That, and presents. Do you have one for me?”

  “Me, too!” Reeve waved her hands expectantly. “Gimme.”

  Frosty ignored her. As usual, he cared only about his girl. “Shouldn’t my exalted presence be present enough? I ditched Cole and Bronx and broke speed records to come snap the spine of anyone who’s made a play for you. And since that’s surely everyone breathing, I just need you to tell me where you’d like me to start.”

  My ears perked at the mention of Cole. “Where’d you leave him?”

  Of course, Frosty ignored me, too.

  “Tatty’s Ink,” Lucas said. “Bronx is getting Reeve’s name inked into his arm. Which, I just remembered, is supposed to be a surprise.”

  Reeve cooed happily, thrilled with her boyfriend’s unexpected gift.

  I’d decided to get two new tattoos myself, so...why not drive over there now? Cole could hold my hand through the process, and afterward, he’d realize there had never been a more perfect chance for Nana-free time. Two birds, one delectable stone. Afterward, we could...do things. I shivered with anticipation.

  Knowing it would have been criminal to leave a single drop of my mousse shooter behind, I downed it and licked the rim, then licked again just to be safe. I knew I wasn’t overhyping the dessert when I muttered, “This is the best thing in the entire world.”

  “Agreed,” Reeve said.

  Finally, I made the brave decision to step between Frosty and Kat.

  Yes, other people had been donkey-punched in the throat for doing such a thing, but I was willing to risk it. I needed my best friend’s full attention.

  “I’m leaving, and I’m taking Mackenzie with me.” Love bug was my ride. “You’re not going to have as much fun without me, but I hope you’re willing to make the sacrifice.”

  Kat pursed her lips. “What about this most special of occasions? Girls’ day out.”

  Honestly? “It crashed and burned the second Frosty and Lucas showed up.”

  “Hey,” Frosty said behind me. “I only crash and burn the people who say I crash and burn things.”

  “True story.” Kat blinked up at me. “But that aside, let’s cut through the crap and focus on what you’re really saying. I have to choose between him and you.”

  If it would save me from having to argue about leaving? “Yes.”

  “Oh. Well, then. I choose you,” she said with a sunny smile. “Of course.”

  Should have seen that coming. As much as she loved Frosty, she loved me. Maybe more. We were sisters of the heart rather than blood, and (almost) always put each other’s needs above everyone else’s.

  “Get lost, Frosty.” She made shooing motions over my shoulder. “You can remind me of my affection for you later.”

  “But, kitten,” he said, his tone beseeching. And it was funny, hearing one of the biggest, baddest Z-killers in Birmingham, Alabama, reduced to begging, all because a tiny fluff of nothing had decided not to play with him. “I have a fever, and the only prescription...is more cow-kat.”

  Kat narrowed her eyes at him. “Cow-kat?”

  “Dude,” Lucas muttered. “Do you want to lose a testicle?”

  “Okay,” Frosty said, “I’m man enough to admit that might have come out wrong.”

  I gripped Kat by the shoulders. “You don’t have to worry about hurting my feelings. I’m foaming-at-the-mouth eager to see Cole.”

  “You planning to make out with him?”

  “Yes,” I admitted, even as my cheeks heated.

  “That’s so cake. And you’ll give me every detail?”

  Wait. “Cake?”

  “My new favorite word, meaning so totally beyond amazeballs.”

  Well, okay, then. Soon, it would be the world’s favorite. “If you insist, I’ll give you a play-by-play.” I knew she would.

  She thought for a moment, sighed. “Fine. Go. We’ll reschedule.”

  “Really?”

  “What can I say? I’m a giver.”

  “Thank you, thank you, a thousand times thank you.” I kissed her cheek and raced to Mackenzie’s side.

  “—must be a light switch, because every time I look at you, I’m turned on,” Chartreuse was saying.

  No. Just no. Pickup lines were never okay. “We’ve gotta go,” I told her.

  Chartreuse frowned. “But she just got here.”

  Relief radiated from Mackenzie. “Sorry, boys. It’s been... Yeah.” She said no more as she tugged me toward the door.

  “Hey!” Reeve called. “No one said ’bye to me.”

  I waved, saying, “’Bye. We love you!” over my shoulder.

  She blew me a kiss.

  Trina laughed at something Lucas said, unconcerned by our departure.

  Mackenzie and I stepped into the wintry afternoon. The sun was shining but
the air was chilled. Shoppers wove in and out of nearby boutiques, each lost in their own little worlds.

  “Thank you,” Mackenzie said with a shudder. “The only guy I had any interest in never spoke a word to me.”

  “Let me guess. Mr. Knuckle Scars.”

  “Yeah. How’d you know?”

  “We have similar taste.” Proof: we’d both dated Cole. “He would have been my choice, too.” And not just for his rugged appeal.

  Every slayer in the war against Z’s had lost loved ones to bites and battle wounds, and the sorrow and grief tended to build barriers around our hearts. More and more, it became clear that the strong had a better chance of survival; Knuckle Scars had definitely been the strongest of the bunch.

  Shockingly enough, Frosty—who had lost more than most—was the exception to my theory. He’d fallen for Kat despite her kidney disease. But I wasn’t going to think about her illness and the pain she was—and would be—forced to endure. I’d break down and be forced to compartmentalize, shoving the heartbreak into a deep, dark corner of my mind, to be dealt with later.

  My compartments were almost full.

  I’d told myself I’d stop doing it, stop locking away the hard emotional crap and finally deal with my feelings, but I’d fallen back into the habit...and honestly, I wasn’t in any hurry to change.

  “Where are we going?” Mackenzie settled behind the wheel of her truck. “It’s too early for patrol.”

  Oh, yeah. We had to patrol for zombies this evening. We’d be with Gavin the man-whore—another one of my pet projects, despite his warped sense of humor—and the mostly silent Bronx. Time was limited.

  “We’re going to Tatty’s,” I said and explained why.

  “I’d advise you to play a little hard to get, but I swear, it doesn’t matter what you do. Cole thinks it’s the most adorable thing ever. It makes me want to stab you both in the eye.”

  A few weeks ago, she would have spat those words at me like weapons. Because the moment Cole had displayed an interest in me—which had been at moment one, thank you very much—she’d hated me.

  My sparkling personality had eventually won her over.

  Fine. Personality had nothing to do with it. We were soldiers in a war, and we were fighting for the same side. A bond had formed.

  “If you stab us both in the eye, we will wear matching patches and pretend to be pirates,” I said. “You’ll wish you’d stabbed yourself instead.”

  She shuddered. “You still have an evil side, I see.”

  “Yes, and your tears are the food she craves.”

  Mackenzie almost cracked a smile.

  I scanned the parking lot when we reached our destination, fighting disappointment when I couldn’t locate Cole’s Jeep.

  Maybe he’d walked? You know, for exercise. As if he didn’t get enough at his gym, running the treadmill, lifting weights and boxing in the ring. But he wasn’t inside, and my disappointment intensified.

  I could call or text him, I supposed, but this wasn’t just girls’ day out. It was boys’ day out, too. He could still be with Gavin, Bronx and new-to-the-team Justin. Well, new again. Long story.

  “Do you have a few hours to spare?” I asked Mackenzie.

  “Is my other choice heading back to Choco Loco?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I do.”

  I headed to the back of the shop with Artist Guy, the man who’d done my other tattoos. There were two, one on each wrist; the reason he already had my permission slip on file. The first one he’d given me was the white rabbit to represent my sister, Emma. She might be dead, but she still came to visit me. The second, a pair of swords in the shape of a cross to represent my parents.

  “Tell me what you want,” he said as I settled into the seat.

  I’d thought about this for quite some time. Everything we felt always found a way to manifest outwardly. Smiles, frowns. Laugh lines. Scowl lines. This was my way of showing my love for the family and friends I’d lost.

  “To start, I want a phoenix on the back of my neck.” This would represent Cole. I hadn’t lost him—and wouldn’t!—but he still deserved a place of honor. With his help, I’d risen from the ashes of my past and forged a new future. “Then I want a pair of boxing gloves above the daggers.” They would represent Pops, my grandfather, who’d been killed by zombie toxin. As a teenager, he’d trained in the ring, and throughout the rest of his life, he’d taken hard knocks with grace and bravery.

  Artist Guy got to work, and though I’d done this before and had known what to expect, it still hurt. Bad. By the time he finished, my neck and arm throbbed incessantly.

  “Well? What do you think?” he asked.

  I studied the boxing gloves and smiled. They looked like they were made of tattered brown leather, with a bowed string holding them together. “Perfection.”

  “As if I could do anything less.”

  Men and their egos.

  I approached the full-length mirror hanging on the wall. Hand trembling, I lifted my hair and turned to the side while glancing over my shoulder. My breath hitched. The bird’s head was light green and came up to my hairline. The wings were a rainbow of colors, each crackling with golden flames, wrapping around both sides of my neck, stretching toward my ears. The belly was a mix of red and gold and centered on the ridges of my spine, while the tail was shaped and shaded like peacock feathers, stopping between my shoulder blades.

  “It’s...it’s...” I gasped. “I don’t even have words.”

  “I know,” he replied. “I’m amazing. It’s the best work you’ve ever seen. Blah, blah.”

  Cole was going to flip out.

  “You remember how to prevent infection?” he asked.

  “Yes.” I paid him and joined Mackenzie in the lobby. Her reaction to the ink was similar to mine. Total shock and awe.

  “As much as I’d love to stay and stare, we’d better go.” She gestured to the outside world. “Darkness is rolling in.”

  I glanced out the window, and sure enough, the sunlight was muted. Well, crap. Night came earlier and earlier. We hardly had time for rest and relaxation anymore.

  When had we ever?

  But we were trying. All slayers—including our mascots, Reeve and Kat—had recently enrolled in a home-study program, leaving the classroom behind. With our schedules, we’d been missing class or, when we had shown up, falling asleep. Our grades had been slipping. Now we had a little control.

  Out of habit, I searched the sky for a rabbit-shaped cloud. Anytime my sister noticed zombies stirring in their nests, preparing to brave the wild and hunt a meal, she created one just for me. Right now, there wasn’t one. Good.

  Tonight I would go through one neighborhood after another, searching for Z’s, protecting homes. If all went well—and that’s how it was looking—I’d finish around 3:00 a.m. Boys’ day out would be officially over.

  “Let’s go,” I said.

  We piled into Mackenzie’s truck and headed to the gym, where we would begin. Along the way, I texted Cole.

  U’ll B home 2nite, yeah?

  His response came lightning-fast. Yeah. U got plans 4 me?

  Me: If there aren’t any Z’s 2 fight, guess I’ll have 2 settle 4 getting my hands on U.

  Cole: Settle away. I’ll B w8ing.

  Me: BTW, I have surprise 4 U.

  Cole: Naked surprise?

  Me: Better.

  Cole: Nothing better.

  Me: Prepare to have UR mind blown!

  Me: I MEAN CHANGED. CHANGED.

  Cole: Hahaha. I prefer blown. & right back at ya, babe.

  I stored my phone away.

  “You’re practically glowing with happiness.” Mackenzie pretended to gag. “Tell me you’re still capable of killing zombies and that y
ou’re not considering spraying them with rainbow dust.”

  As if I’d waste rainbow dust on zombies. “Don’t you worry about me, love bug. You want to know why there’s no sign of life on Mars? Because I’ve been there.”

  She tried to hide her grin. “If you tell me Death once had a near–Ali Bell experience, I think I’ll risk a little pirate role-playing and just go ahead and stab your eye.”

  “Why would you want to eye-gouge the girl who’s counted to infinity—twice? The girl who can win a game of Connect Four in only three moves? The girl who can start a fire by rubbing two ice cubes together?”

  “Definitely going to eye-gouge you,” she muttered.

  I laughed. “All’s I’m saying is that I’m ready for tonight...no matter what happens.”

  Chapter 2

  BY THE SKIN AND THE TEETH

  It was 3:04 a.m., and, as expected, there was no sign of zombies. I was now off duty, but not expected home until 7:00 a.m.

  Life couldn’t get any more perfect.

  Oh, wait. It could. Mackenzie and Bronx lived with Cole and his dad, Mr. Tyler Holland, and they’d decided to spend the rest of the night at the gym. I hadn’t said a word about my plans with Cole, but my ear-to-ear smile might have given me away.

  Gavin offered to take me home. Ever the gentleman, he opened the passenger side of his car for me.

  “I’ve got people to do and things to see.” He motioned me inside. “Hop to, cupcake.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Don’t get used to it.”

  He meant that with every fiber of his being. Shouldn’t laugh. I adored the guy, but I wasn’t blind to all of his faults.

  One of my faults: I found every one of his charming.

  He settled behind the wheel and gunned the engine, the ice on the window melting. He eased onto the road and said, “So, when do you get your license?”

  “Next week.” There’d been a time I’d wanted to vomit blood at even the thought of controlling the metal death trap known as car, but battling an evil zombie-twin version of myself—don’t ask—kind of put things in perspective. “Why? Are you tired of chauffeuring me around?”