Page 75 of The Monsters We Are
She slit throats, chopped off heads, gutted stomachs, sliced off body parts. Just the same, her coven fought harder and faster—either responding to her urgency or spurred on by the knowledge that they were almost done.
Soon, only five zombies were left. Wynter and Xavier took out four, only managing to knock the fifth to the ground since it dodged out of range.
“And then there was one,” sang Anabel/Mary. She swung out her sword, beheading it in one smooth, brutal move.
Cheers went up as the crowd surged to their feet.
Anabel/Mary’s shoulders slumped as she eyed the fallen zombies. “It’s not the same when your victims don’t cry out in pain.”
Xavier wiped at his sweaty forehead with his arm. “I can agree with that.”
“We need to get out of this ditch so we heal,” said Wynter, panting.
Nodding, Anabel/Mary grabbed a severed head by its hair.
“No, that ain’t coming with us,” Wynter declared.
Anabel/Mary frowned. “But it is harmless.”
“And bodiless. And gross. Andno, it stays.”
But the weirdo tried arguing, so Xavier rolled his eyes and whispered, “Night, night, Mary.”
The key phrase made Anabel/Mary pout, but then the manic glint in her eyes was gone.
Back to her normal self, Anabel realized what she was holding and dropped it with a little squeal. Wiping her hand on her thigh, she whimpered. “Are we done?”
“We’re done.” Wynter led the way as they left the ditch. Instantly, her injuries healed, the blood disappeared from her skin and clothes, and the effects of the zombie bites faded away.
Switching back to her human form, Hattie grinned. “Well, now we know we’d survive a zombie apocalypse.”
Delilah frowned. “Yeah, we’d survive itinfected.Every one of us got bitten.”
“But we faced the army and lived—none of us got kicked out of the gauntlet,” said Hattie.
“We were fast,” said Xavier, sending his sword back to the cottage much in the same way that he conjured it. “There’s a good chance our time won’t be beat.”
Returning her sword to her chamber, Wynter nodded. Either way, she was a winner. Because going by the banked heat in Cain’s eyes, he was as hot and bothered as Delilah predicted. A ruthless fuck was the best kind of prize.
And a ruthless fuck was what she later got. Twice.
Chapter Seventeen
Awhispered voice pierced the fog of Wynter’s sleep, playing into her dream. A voice that wanted her to wake. To move. To follow. She ignored it, busy cleaning the blood from her boat.
Icy fingertips fluttered over her face as the voice patiently persisted.
Ugh. Couldn’t it see she was busy here?
She let out an annoyed sniff, scrubbing the fiberglass boat harder. The voice didn’t give up. It kept on whispering, telling her that it wanted to show her something; something she needed to see.
Little by little, Wynter’s dream broke apart around her as sleep gradually lost its grip on her. Awake, she tiredly opened her eyes. And froze. Her heart slammed hard against her ribcage.
What the hell?
She was no longer in the bedchamber. She wasn’t even sure if she was still in the Keep. This place . . . it was some kind of grotto. The rock walls looked like they’d been adorned with splatters of gold glitter, much like the vaulted ceiling above her. The light from the flaming torches slashed through the darkness. The stone floor was smooth and warm beneath her bare feet.
Her monster stirred, tense but intrigued—there wasso much energyhere. An energy that was foreign and intense. It rolled over her skin, causing her flesh to prickle and making every tiny hair on her body lift.