Page 74 of My Undead Love Life

I lifted it halfway and immediately regretted it.

Mad’s mouth flattened.

“I said I’m fine,” I muttered.

“You’re a terrible liar.”

I huffed.

He stepped closer and touched my elbow lightly, guiding me toward the door without putting pressure on my injured side.

The throbbing had settled deep now, pulsing beneath my shoulder blade with every heartbeat.

Before we went in, I glanced back once. The leopards were still below. The smaller one had climbed onto the roof of the delivery truck. Its body was low, but its eyes were on us.

Mad followed my stare. “Inside,” he barked.

I didn’t argue.

The roof door shut behind us with a heavy metallic groan, and even though there was a thick door between us and the leopards, I didn’t feel better.

The last thing I’d seen before the door closed was the larger snow leopard turning its head toward the side of the mall, near where we came in.

The warmth of the jewelry store felt almost tropical compared to the roof. The air inside still bit at my skin, but at least there was no wind.

We sat around our little makeshift camp while Luck heated canned soup and ramen over the small camping stove we’d found weeks ago. The flame gave off a faint hiss, blue and steady beneath the dented pot. The smell of broth, salt, noodles, and vegetables filled the room.

“So,” Luck said slowly, stirring the pot with a plastic spoon, “I’m sensing a vibe.”

“No vibe,” I said, sitting on the side of the bed and holding my shoulder.

Mad looked at me with a raised brow.

Oxi frowned.

Luck gestured to my shoulder.

“Okay,” I corrected. “There’s a small vibe.”

Mad sat back against one of the display cases. “Two infected snow leopards were watching her from the parking lot.”

Luck’s spoon stopped moving. “Two?”

“Two,” I confirmed.

Oxi’s expression went cold in a way that made the room feel even quieter. “It came back.”

“With a friend,” I grumbled.

“Which is a huge problem,” Oxi sighed.

We ate sitting close together on the mattresses. The soup was too salty, the noodles were mushy, and the canned chicken had a texture I tried not to think about, but it was hot. The heat of it slid down my throat and settled in my stomach.

After we ate, our routine checks began.

“Alright,” Luck said, getting to his feet and stretching until his back cracked. “Checks.”

The three of them went first, as usual.