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“Thank you, Angel,” he said, surprising me with the use of my first name. “We appreciate your help.”
“Do you believe me?” I asked him bluntly.
He pushed his chair back in. “I do not believe you are attempting to deceive me,” he said with a tight smile, then gave Ben a nod before moving to the door. But he stopped with his hand on the doorknob and turned back to me. “One more question, if you don’t mind.”
“Yeah?”
“You didn’t say anything about being afraid that he would shoot you,” he said, tilting his head slightly. “Why is that?”
“I, um, was just shocked more than anything.” A cold hard knot began to form in my belly. I wasn’t stupid—I could see how my apparent lack of fear could possibly be read as my being somehow involved.
“Of course,” he said. He gave me an understanding smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s a good thing you were able to keep calm. The last thing any of us want is another body.”
I gave a stiff nod. I didn’t really trust my voice at the moment.
Pierson opened the door, but before he could exit Marcus slipped in and made a beeline for me. “You okay?” he said, gaze sweeping over me as if to check for himself that I was free of pesky bullet holes. “I just heard about the holdup.”
“I’m fine,” I said, feeling absurdly self-conscious. I thought for an instant he was going to lean in and kiss me, but he apparently thought better of doing so in front of the others. Instead he simply gave my arm a squeeze. Over his shoulder I could see the Captain eyeing him with a slightly narrowed gaze. But to my relief, Pierson continued on out, with Ben right behind him. “I’m fine,” I repeated as the door swung shut. “It’s cool.”
“Good to know,” Marcus said. He gave a sigh of relief, then pulled me into a hug. I allowed myself to relax against him. “You need to eat more,” he murmured. “Weird shit is going on, and now’s not the time to be at less than full strength.” He pulled back and held my shoulders while he looked intently into my face. “I know you’re trying to ration your supply, but I can always help you out if you get into a bind.”
“I know. I was just about to. And you’re right.” He’d always been more than willing to share, but I’d decided shortly after we started seeing each other that I would only hit him up for brains if I had no other choice. I didn’t want to be dependent on him—or anyone. “Look,” I said, “there was something weird about that dead security guard.”
“Weird how?”
“Well, he had a fractured skull, and I was pretty hungry, but I couldn’t smell his brains.”
A frowned tugged at his mouth. “Are you sure? Maybe it wasn’t fractured enough for you to be able to tell.”
I shook my head. “It was fractured. Trust me. I could see pieces moving around under the scalp. And back at the lab I was hungry enough to smell brains in living people.” Hell, I still was. The little bit that I’d chugged in the van had been more than used up during this whole incident.
The troubled expression on his face deepened. “I don’t know, Angel. You shouldn’t let yourself get so hungry—it affects your thinking and judgment.”
I tamped down my growing irritation. “Yeah, I know that, but it wasn’t so bad before the holdup. I had some in the van on the way over. I think stress burned a bunch up.”
He shoved a hand through his hair. “The only reason I can think that you wouldn’t be able to smell the brains is if he was a zombie. But that’s not possible. He was definitely dead-for-real. The paramedics ran a strip on him and everything.”
“How do you know he wasn’t a zombie?” I asked. “I don’t think that the EKG strip showing he was dead is enough proof he wasn’t. When you were shot I’m pretty sure you didn’t have a heartbeat.” Or maybe he did, I thought, suddenly unsure. It wasn’t as if I stopped and checked. Ed shot Marcus right in the head, and as soon as I scared Ed off I grabbed Marcus up and hightailed it back to my car where I proceeded to stuff him full of brains. Thankfully it worked.
“I’m simply saying that I think it’s more likely your sense of smell was off.” He gave me a smile that was probably meant to be reassuring, but he was seriously misjudging my mood and the day I’d had.
I pulled back from him, narrowed my eyes. “Seriously? My sense of smell was off? Marcus, are you fucking kidding me? I was just held up at gunpoint. Some mercenary motherfucker stole the body, and now I’m telling you that there was something weird about it. Why the hell won’t you believe me?”
“I’m sorry.” He grimaced. “You’re right. I guess I was really wanting this to be something random—”
“You weren’t here when I was describing this guy and what he did,” I said, planting my hands on my hips. “Dude, it wasn’t just some random asshole grabbing a body for shits and giggles. This guy was some kind of fucking pro. He fucking zip-tied me!” I held up my bandaged wrists for emphasis.
He took a deep breath. “Okay. I’m sorry. Then there must be some explanation.” Yet there was still a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. “I won’t say that I know everything about zombies but, the thing is, a fractured skull is pretty minor for one of us. And his body would have started rotting while it worked to fix up the fracture. Does that make sense? He was just…a corpse.”
Reluctantly, I nodded. “Okay, so maybe not a zombie. But there was still something wrong with his brain. I know that.” Maybe the guy had cancer? But, no, I’d seen—and smelled—cancer-ridden brains before.
“I believe you,” he said. “I swear. And my uncle is the person to ask why that might be.” He smiled and squeezed my shoulders. “So it’s a good thing we’re going to see him tomorrow, right?”
I heaved a sigh. “Right. I’m really looking forward to it. Can’t wait.”
He laughed, pulled me into a hug. “You’re a shitty liar.”
“Don’t know why. I’ve had tons of practice.”
