Page 125 of My Undead Love Life

“No bite,” Mad said.

My whole body sagged with relief.

Oxi checked her back. Luck checked her arms and legs.

I watched every movement with confusion. They were so…gentle with her.

Then, Spencer turned to me. “Strip, please.”

I stripped down without arguing. The cold bit into my skin immediately, but I barely felt it.

Spencer’s gasp cut through me. “Keith…” Her fingers reached for my arm.

I looked down at the long, jagged scar on my upper arm. It started near my shoulder and cut toward my bicep in an uneven line, raised and ugly from healing badly. It had been a miracle it hadn’t gotten infected.

I glanced at it, then back to her. “I almost didn’t make it,” I admitted.

Spencer’s fingers hovered over the scar before touching it lightly. “What happened?”

“After we got separated, I escaped the horde by jumping out a jagged window. The glass cut me.” I lifted my free hand quickly when her face paled.

“Keith, how did you…”

“A miracle, wildflower. Nothing short of a miracle.”

“I thought you died,” she whispered.

“I thought you did, too.” I forced the words out. “I followed signs for days. Blood trails. Footprints. Anything. Then, the snow started covering everything. I thought I’d never make it.”

Spencer’s fingers tightened around my arm. “But you did make it. You’re here.”

I smiled faintly. “Yeah. I’m here, wildflower.”

The body checks finished quickly after that. No bites or scratches on any of us.

For the first time since I’d walked into that warehouse, I felt like I could breathe for more than a second at a time.

Mad looked toward the door again. “We need to secure the warehouse better,” he said. “We need to decide what to do about Frank and Jan.”

Spencer flinched at their names. Luck looked down. Oxi’s face tightened, and something haunted moved through his eyes.

“I’ll check the hall,” I offered.

Spencer’s hand caught my wrist. “Keith.”

“I’ll be careful.”

She looked like she wanted to argue, but she let go. Mad came with me without asking. So did Oxi. Luck stayed with Spencer, which I appreciated more than I wanted to say.

The hallway smelled worse outside the room. It reeked of blood and rot. The office door hung open enough to see the damage inside. Frank was closest to the door. Jan was farther back, one arm outstretched like she’d reached for him or he’d reached for her. Both had severe slashes down their bodies and bullet holes in their heads.

“Fuck,” Mad muttered.

Oxi said nothing. His face had gone empty.

For a second, the three of us stood there with the dead. I hadn’t known Frank or Jan. But I had known people who made it through impossible things only to die one step away from someone else’s miracle.

“We can’t bury them in this storm,” Mad said.