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“Um. Have you accepted Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior?”
His brow furrowed. “No.”
“Yeah, I would’ve been surprised at that one. Okay, so … oh! Are you Swiss?” She got a blank look on his face. “Because Switzerland has a cross on their flag, but from your expression I’m guessing that’s not it either. You like crossbows? CrossFit? Cross-dressing? No, not that one. Wait, I know! Because no one better cross you. Am I right? I’m right, aren’t I?”
“His last name is Cross,” said one of the men.
Vivi pursed her lips. “Well, that was anticlimactic.”
“Listen, Lady—”
“Oh, it’s Vivi. Not Lady. Although, I am one, I suppose. Not in the English version of being a Lady with a capital L. I’m not British, obviously.”
Cross blinked. “Listen, Vivi—”
“You know, I was kidnapped,” she said, interrupting him once more. “And brought here. So, I’m willing to overlook the knowledge that you’re one of my kidnappers if you let me know wherehereis?”
“You’re at the Heart of Darkness.”
That answer didn’t help her one bit. “Interesting. And very telling.”
“How so?”
“Well, light stands for things we find reassuring,” she murmured, cocking her head as she studied him. “Like goodness and life. A divine presence in all things organic and inorganic. Darkness, on the other hand, is one of the many things that scares us. Sorrow, pain, death. Striking the fear of God into every person that crosses you. But you have to be careful of the shadows between the two. They can blind you.”
A low simmering rage swirled in the dark depths of Cross’s eyes, and she suspected it never abated. She had no doubt he was a killer. That anger guided every step he took. It tainted his aura pitch-black. What had happened to this man that he lived in a constant state of darkness?
It was a question she really didn’t care to answer. It came down to the fact that this man worked with O’Shannon—the very person who killed her brother and held her sister hostage. Who might even want to rape her. Perhaps quell the life from her body. She didn’t see any light inside him. Vivi turned away from Cross to study the old industrial manufacturing plant that had to be their clubhouse. The move helped hide her fear because the last thing she wanted was to show him any sign of weakness.
The rather large two-story red brick building had a patinaed copper roof and a round turret toward the back. Even with the activity of a motorcycle club, an albatross of neglect clung to it. There wasn’t any grass. Only gravel coated the ground. Around the whole complex was a concrete wall with barbed wire at the top.
“Is this a castle?” she asked. “Are there castles in Missouri? Wait, are we in Missouri or Illinois?”
Cross rubbed the bridge of his nose. People tended to do that a lot around her. “We’re in Illinois. And this is an old root beer factory.”
“I see,” she said, spinning slowly. “Just how well is this place fortified against zombies?”
A few men standing around snickered.
“What?” Cross asked, a perplexed look on his face. “Why would we need fortification against zombies?”
“For the Apocalypse. Duh.” She twirled a finger around in the air. “Speaking of which, whatisyour apocalyptic plan?”
“What the fu—”
“It’s going to happen one day and when it does, you’ll thank me for bringing awareness to your survival.”
Cross rolled his eyes and took a step closer to her. “Listen, little girl, you’re nothing but a prisoner of this club and you will do as I say. Otherwise, you’re going to get hurt.”
She cocked her head. “You’re too good-looking a guy to go kidnapping a girl for a date.”
“Da fuck?” he asked. The high pitch in his voice betrayed his bewilderment. “No, I didn’t … it wasn’t…”
“Besides, you’re not my type.” She tapped her lips with her finger. “Although, I don’t really know what my type is. Maybe I like all types. Well, except for you. You’re definitely not my type. I draw the line at kidnapping.”
“Shut up!”
When he grabbed her arm, she immediately covered it with her own hand and looked him in the eye. “You need to calm down.”
