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Chapter One
I’m kissing Valerian.
This is my second time kissing in the real world, and it’s glorious. The hospital room around me spins on its axis. My fingers are buried in his thick, silky hair, and his lips are soft and smooth, his tongue skillfully—
Someone rudely clears his throat.
I stiffen. Before that moment, the thought of bacteria and viruses couldn’t have been further from my mind, but now, images of post-nasal drip invade my consciousness, ruining the mood.
Valerian draws back from me and glares at the intruder—a bashful-looking Felix, who looks extra thin without his robot suit.
“I’m sorry.” Felix backs out of the room. “I—that is, the others… If you’re up, we should head back.”
Head back. To Gomorrah. Right.
As much as I hate to have been interrupted from what Valerian and I were doing, going back is an excellent idea. Between the boost to my dreamwalker powers and the revelation about my not-so-dead twin, getting to Mom is at the top of my priority list.
“We’re on a post-apocalyptic world ravaged by a deadly virus,” Felix says, still sounding defensive. “It’s not exactly a place to Netflix and chill.”
Valerian must show Felix something with his powers because he pales, turns on his heel, and sprints away.
“We should go,” I say reluctantly, my eyes on Valerian’s sensuous lips.
“To be continued,” he murmurs into my ear and strides out of the room.
With a sigh, I follow.
When I was brought to this hospital from Necronia, I was barely conscious. Now that I’m walking through the white corridors with my awareness intact, I wish someone would knock me out again so I wouldn’t see all the dead bodies sprawled around.
The virus Icelus had planned to unleash on Necronia had made its way here first, with deadly results.
The dreariness follows me all the way outside, where our team is waiting inside a circle of corpses that are standing upright. That’s thanks to Rowan, the necromancer who left Necronia with us.
As we approach, she pushes her signature steampunk-style goggles higher up on her head to combat a few unruly strands of her strangely colored hair—half of her head is bleached white, the other half is jet black. Behind her is Fabian in his musclebound man form, dressed for once. Next to him is Dylan, her long brown hair uncharacteristically disheveled and her blank eyes lacking the razor-sharp intelligence that always made them so lively. Itzel, our gnome friend, and Ariel, Felix’s uber roommate, are with them also.
Spotting me, Ariel flashes a radiant smile that shows off her uber-perfect teeth.
“Finally. Sleeping Beauty awakens,” Rowan says to me. “I bet there was a kiss involved.” She winks at Valerian.
Felix reddens and Valerian shakes his head, while Itzel just huffs into her breathing mask.
“Newly made zombies?” I ask Rowan, glancing at the upright corpses.
She nods. “I gathered some helpers for our trip.” She emphasizes the preferred Necronian term.
Ariel looks worriedly down the street. “It’s a good thing she did. The Overtaken attacked us twice while you were out.”
I scan the zombie herd, but of course, in death, the Overtaken look identical to other corpses. “Twice? I didn’t realize there were enough people left alive on this world to Overtake.”
“There are,” Felix says. “In fact, while you were out, I was able to locate a computer in the hospital and use my powers to get into this world’s equivalent of the internet. I spread the formula for the cure as widely as I could. Should give the survivors a chance.”
Ariel smacks Felix approvingly on the shoulder. “I wonder if the Councils could leave some ready-made cure here when they bring it to Necronia.”
“I’ll tell them to do so,” Valerian says. “Now we should head out before more Overtaken attack. We have no cure for that problem.”
Fabian pushes the zombies aside and hands me and Valerian our Gomorran guns. Once we have those stashed, he also gives me my katana and Valerian his sai.
Dylan is still standing there, her gaze unfocused.
“Dylan,” I say formally. “I wanted to thank you. If you hadn’t come through with the cure, Valerian and I would be part of Rowan’s zombie herd.”
At the mention of her name, Dylan looks in my general direction but doesn’t meet my gaze. Nor does she acknowledge the thanks.
Weird.
She hadn’t acted like this before.
Is this one of the side effects of Rowan bringing her from the dead? With a pang of guilt, I recall Rowan saying Dylan wouldn’t be the same, yet Valerian, Fabian, and I pressured her to perform the special resurrection anyway.
Then something else catches my attention. With the exception of Itzel, no one is wearing masks anymore—despite the fact that we’re on a virus-infected world.
When I ask about it, Dylan seems to perk up a little. “The cure isn’t just a cure,” she says with a hint of her usual professorial tone. “It works prophylactically as well.”
