You Are So Undead to Me (9 page)
“Put me down! You jerk!” I yelled as he flung me over his shoulder and set off toward the entrance to the maze. “I mean it. Put me down or I’ll scream.”
“Fine, scream. It’s a haunted corn maze, people are supposed to be screaming,” he said, his tone annoyingly smug. “Good thing for you, or somebody would have noticed you and the RCs.”
Reanimated Corpses. “Aren’t you cute with abbreviations,” I said to his butt. From my flung-over-the-shoulder position, I was getting a very up close and personal look at the body part. And dang, but the boy could fill out a pair of jeans.
I blushed as the tingles started again and closed my eyes. I was not going to think about Ethan or his butt. The RCs might have started the ruination of my date, but Ethan was finishing it. He was an ass who was basically kidnapping me and probably making sure Josh would
never
ask me to homecoming.
never
ask me to homecoming.
Furious! I should have been furious . . . but for some reason, I wasn’t. Some sick little part of me was very happy to be bouncing along on Ethan’s shoulder, headed wherever he decided to take me. My inner feminist tried to put the smackdown on that sick little part, but soon she too was distracted by the lusciousness of Ethan. Weakness, thy name is Megan’s hormones.
I was so deep in tingle Happyville, I didn’t even notice the chick leaning on London’s car until we were nearly to Ethan’s Mini Cooper. And even then, it took me a few seconds to recognize the identity of the scrawny size-two wench who should
not
have been anywhere near here.
not
have been anywhere near here.
Monica. Not only was she not home on zombie duty, she was out getting ready to crash
my
date with
my
Josh. I would have screamed for Ethan to stop long enough for me to ask her what the hell she was doing if I’d thought he would listen. Or if a part of me weren’t a little freaked out to see her standing there, looking so strangely satisfied with herself.
my
date with
my
Josh. I would have screamed for Ethan to stop long enough for me to ask her what the hell she was doing if I’d thought he would listen. Or if a part of me weren’t a little freaked out to see her standing there, looking so strangely satisfied with herself.
Someone had to have raised those corpses, and a Settler would know how to get the job done. Could Monica? . . .
Nah. Not even her horridness was that horrid, and she certainly didn’t look like she’d just been bitten by two RCs. A little pale and out of breath and shivering in her oversize sweater, sure, but . . . hmmm . . .
No. I wasn’t going to go there. Yet.
She was a bitch, not a witch or a black-magic practitioner or whatever. But I decided right then it might be smart to keep an eye on the Monicster. You know what they say—keep your friends close, but keep your enemies closer.
An hour later, I’d decided I would be grateful for a lot less closeness with a certain ex-friend. Ethan had firmly vanquished every last shred of happy within me with the most boring lecture in the world on the various Unsettled commands and an in-depth briefing on grave sealing. It wouldn’t have been so bad, but Ethan insisted on delivering his “lesson” in some nasty-smelling graveyard near a paper plant where he had sent one of his Unsettled earlier in the evening.
“Now, you ready? You’re going to seal the grave.”
“Me?” I asked, shuffling away.
“Yes, you.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me back.
“But I—ow!” I jumped as Ethan jabbed me with the needle. It was a tiny little needle, the kind diabetics used to check their blood sugar, but I’ve never been a fan of getting stuck with sharp things. This was apparently part of the grave-sealing process, however, so I guessed I had to get used to the idea of stabbing myself on a regular basis.
The Settler gig just kept getting better and better.
“If you’d had one of these on you earlier, you wouldn’t have had to scratch your arm to get those RCs’ attention,” Ethan said, though he didn’t sound annoyed. I could tell he thought I was pretty brave for luring the Reanimated Corpses back to me instead of letting them find their target. Unfortunately, he wasn’t sufficiently impressed to give me the rest of the night off Settler duty. Even when I’d sworn I’d known all four second-stage commands before I was scared half to death.
He’d been appointed my tutor by the powers that be and was taking the job very seriously. I figured Mom would be pissed to find out SA thought she wasn’t suitable mentor material anymore, but when I’d talked to her on Ethan’s cell, she’d sounded positively thrilled. She said she just wanted to keep being my mother and it was probably better for me to learn second-stage Settling from someone who had more recent experience and blah, blah, blah, . . .
So, no help was coming from that corner. Hell, she’d even extended my curfew by an hour.
“Now, walk the perimeter of the grave, holding that hand over the center.” Ethan steered me to the edge of the grave with his hands on my shoulders while I did my best to ignore how undeniably nice his touch felt. “Stay close to the edge. If any blood falls, it has to hit the grave,” he said, standing back to watch my progress with a critical eye.
“Does blood
have
to fall?” I asked, feeling a little queasy simply saying the word. The blood earlier hadn’t bothered me since I was in the heat of battle and all, but now my aversion to the red stuff was coming back with a vengeance.
have
to fall?” I asked, feeling a little queasy simply saying the word. The blood earlier hadn’t bothered me since I was in the heat of battle and all, but now my aversion to the red stuff was coming back with a vengeance.
“No, it doesn’t. Settlers used to think blood had to be spilled in a circle around the grave, but somebody eventually figured out just breaking the skin was enough.”
“All around the grave? Didn’t they pass out?”
“Not their blood, animal blood.”
“Animal blood?”
“Yeah, chickens or sometimes goats. They’d slit the animal’s throat and drag it around the edge of the grave,” he said, as casually as if he were discussing the directions to the nearest gas station.
“Oh.” I suddenly felt even colder. Yuck. My stomach clenched and I stumbled the last few steps around the grave.
“Hey, are you all right?” he asked, catching my shoulders again, but this time we were facing each other and his touch was a lot softer.
“Yeah . . . it’s just been a long night.”
“Well, it’s almost over. That’s all you need to do to seal the grave. Easy, right?”
“Right.” I sucked in a deep breath, inhaling the wonderful smell of him—soap and something spicy that was all Ethan. Wow, he smelled so very good. It was almost impossible to resist the urge to lean into his chest. I wanted to press my face against his gray sweatshirt, wrap my arms around him, and hold on for dear life.
“Rough night too, huh?” he asked, continuing on without waiting for an answer. “Well, it could have been a lot rougher. You could have died. Give me the two commands to freeze an RC.”
Okay, well,
that
pretty much killed the snuggle urge.
that
pretty much killed the snuggle urge.
“
Desino
and
absisto
. And thanks for reminding me about the dying part.” I tried to step away, but he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me in for I guess what you could call a hug.
Desino
and
absisto
. And thanks for reminding me about the dying part.” I tried to step away, but he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me in for I guess what you could call a hug.
Though it was unlike
any
hug I’d ever experienced before. As soon as his fingers interlocked at the small of my back, I couldn’t remember how to breathe. The tingles proceeded to skyrocket off the charts, and I was fairly certain I was going to pass out before I got up the guts to look him in the eye.
any
hug I’d ever experienced before. As soon as his fingers interlocked at the small of my back, I couldn’t remember how to breathe. The tingles proceeded to skyrocket off the charts, and I was fairly certain I was going to pass out before I got up the guts to look him in the eye.
“I don’t want you to be scared, but you’ve got to get serious about catching up. Especially with someone out there reanimating corpses.”
“I know.” I dared a look up into his face, illuminated by the light of the moon, and tried not to get freaked out by the fact that our lips were four inches apart. “And don’t forget about the black magic at the football field.”
“What do you know about that?” he asked, though he didn’t sound mad, and his lips got a tiny bit closer to mine. Close enough I could smell the cinnamon on his breath.
Okay. Hold the freaking phone . . . was there some chance Ethan was feeling the same way I was feeling? Did he actually maybe want to kiss me as much as I was
dying
to kiss him? Was that even in the realm of possibility? I mean, he had already graduated from high school and thought I was a complete dork-brat-idiot. Right?
dying
to kiss him? Was that even in the realm of possibility? I mean, he had already graduated from high school and thought I was a complete dork-brat-idiot. Right?
“I asked you a question,” he said, still in that soft, sexy voice.
Hmmm . . . what was the question again? So hard to concentrate when so very near to the sex god Ethan had become. Who would have guessed he’d grow into that huge nose he had when he was thirteen? Or that he would get even taller? He had to be six feet if he was an inch, and—
“About the field, Schmeg?” he asked, a hint of laughter in his voice.
Oh yeah, the football field. “I, um . . . did some investigating,” I said, doing my best not to sound as breathless as I felt. No need to give the jerk anything else to laugh about. “And don’t call me Schmeg.”
“Some investigating, huh?”
“Yeah, I found that place on the track. Someone was working a black ritual, not ten feet from the CHS football field.”
“Maybe, maybe not.” His arms tightened around me and I was suddenly paying more attention to how solid he felt under his sweatshirt than to questioning him about the football field.
I wondered if Ethan realized that his hands were straying below my waist, down very close to butt territory? Or was this simply a friendly hug that I was totally misinterpreting?
What was wrong with me? My school could be in imminent peril and I was allowing myself to fall victim to raging hormones. Why couldn’t I focus on truly important things instead of obsessing about whether or not Ethan wanted to jump my bones? It was just . . . I’d never felt this way about a guy before. Josh didn’t make me tingle all over the way Ethan did, didn’t make me want to see if he tasted as wonderful as he smelled.
Thinking about sampling Ethan like an ice cream cone made my eyes drift to his lips, his full, soft-looking lips that were totally moving closer to mine. Holy cow! He was going to kiss me! He was really going to kiss me and—
“Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt? That looks like a pretty nasty scratch,” he said, bringing his face even closer to my shoulder and sniffing. “And it smells like grave dirt. One of the RCs did this, didn’t they?”
“Um, maybe . . . I didn’t really notice before,” I said, looking down at my shoulder to see a crusty place near my bra strap.
The zombie who’d ripped my sweater must have broken the skin. Great, now I was going to be on antibiotics for a freaking month, and they always gave me the most awful stomachache.
And
I’d nearly embarrassed the bejeezus out of myself by trying to put the moves on Ethan. Could this night get any worse?
And
I’d nearly embarrassed the bejeezus out of myself by trying to put the moves on Ethan. Could this night get any worse?
“Come on, let’s go. We’ll swing by SA headquarters and see the medic on duty before I take you home.” He pulled away from me as if there had never been a single moment of tension. And there probably hadn’t been. I had just imagined the whole thing because I was
such
a loser. Thank God Ethan hadn’t seemed to notice me crushing on him.
such
a loser. Thank God Ethan hadn’t seemed to notice me crushing on him.
“Fine, but you’re telling me about whatever’s going on at my school on the way,” I said, making sure to use my crankiest voice as I followed him back to his car.
“Nope, don’t think so.”
“Yes, I
do
think so.”
do
think so.”
“Doesn’t matter what you think. You are my lowly student and I the masterful teacher.”
I laughed at that—I couldn’t help myself. “This from a guy with a C average?”
“By the time I graduated, I had a B average.” He opened the door for me and then ran around to jump in the driver’s seat. “You missed a lot those five years.”
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