Page 1 of Perfectly Perplexing Zombie

ChapterOne

Wendall

Dusk was packed, and we were all running around like idiots. Or maybe that was just me. Johnny, Lizbeth, and the others seemed to have everything well in hand. I didn’t think my zombie status had anything to do with my fatigue, but I could be wrong. I’d only been a zombie for a few months. It took some getting used to.

“Wendall, you wanna climb up there and get me that bottle of virgin tears?” Johnny called out while pouring another drink. My faun boss was great at multitasking, but his hooves made it difficult to climb the ladder where some lesser-used beverages were.

“On it,” I yelled while reaching for the ladder.

We didn’t get many calls for virgin tears. Sirens liked it, but there weren’t many of those around. The last one I’d seen was the producer forInterspecies Habitat,and last I knew, Divia was across the country working on a new project. The pixie star and host of the show, Parsnip, would join her soon, but he had to work out the logistics of getting his bonded mate, Warlock Vander Kines, to travel with him. Since bonding, they couldn’t be away from each other for long.

While at the top of the ladder, I gazed around, trying to spot the siren. If I’d been an alive human, I would have needed to be wary. Since fairy law, most sirens were reformed and didn’t suck the souls of poor, pitiful human fools.Mostdidn’t meanall.

I scurried down the ladder and handed over the bottle.

“Thanks.” Johnny shot me a grin before filling the glass. “Lady in the far corner.” Johnny pointed, glass in hand. “You good to take it to her?”

In the way of answer, I snatched the glass and weaved my way through Dusk’s patrons. As usual, a smattering of humans mixed in with other species. Vampires and weres dominated the bar, but there were a couple of brownies, two round tops of witches, and a dryad couple clinging to a darkened corner.

I was the only zombie.

From what I understood, and for reasons unknown, I’d taken to zombie-ism a little differently from most. I’d retained my personality and ability to think and reason independently. The priestess who reanimated me thought I’d managed to keep a part of my soul. She also wondered if there was something extra in my DNA—something that wasn’t straight-up human. I didn’t have much insight. I was young when my parents died, and I was dropped on my aunt and uncle’s doorstep. They didn’t talk much about my parents. Then again, I didn’t think my aunt and uncle said much of anything anymore, not after Muriel got done with them.

Newsflash—don’t piss off a priestess. My family lied to Muriel. They’d more than implied my living deeds warranted a fate worse than death, which, for most, was being reanimated as a zombie. It hadn’t quite worked out that way for me. Muriel wasn’t pleased when she found out my family was full of shit. I still wasn’t sure what she’d done to them. I’d stopped asking about a month ago. When I did ask, Muriel gave me the sweetest smile and told me not to worry about it.

That was Muriel. She was the sweetest where I was concerned. But if she thought you’d done her wrong or committed atrocities while alive, Muriel was your worst nightmare.

I squeezed through a couple of trolls, somehow keeping all those precious virgin tears in the glass. Our siren guest wasn’t hard to spot. Like Divia, this siren had hair so blond it looked white. The length of her hair rivaled that of any pixie and cupped her perfectly round rump.

“Thank you, sweetie,” she cooed, smiling wide enough to show off her double row of shark-like teeth. Holding the glass to her nose, she inhaled, eyelids slipping closed. “Now, that smells delicious.” Taking a sip, her grin widened. “My compliments to the owner.” She tipped the glass in salutation.

“I’ll let Mr. Moony know.” Dusk’s owner, Lucroy Moony, was the king of the Southeast vampire nest, but to me, he was simply the boss. Not being a vampire, I called him Mister and left off the king title.

“Please do.” A pale, pink glow emanated from the siren’s eyes.

I wasn’t sure if she registered my zombie status or not. I was simply thankful that the sinful voice went in one ear and out the other.

“Have a good evening,” I hurriedly said before darting back into the crowd.

The hairs on my neck tingled, and if my heart still beat, it would have stuttered. I couldn’t explain the feeling. Eyes were everywhere, yet it felt like someone was staring at me as if I were the sole focus of their evening. Glancing behind me, the overflowing crowd created a wall between the siren and me. I didn’t think it was her. Over the past few days, I’d had the same reaction.

It was ridiculous. No one was interested in me. I was a zombie and far from what would be considered a desirablecatch. Maybe it was simply curiosity. I was, after all, a zombie anomaly.

Shaking off the feeling, I pushed through the crowd, making my way back to the bar. When I arrived, Johnny was as busy as ever. Even for a Saturday night, this was nuts.

“Everything go okay?” Johnny raised his voice above the music and noise just enough for me to hear him.

That was Johnny. No matter what was going on, he still took the time to check in and make sure I was fine. He’d been like that since Muriel dropped me off on Dusk’s doorstep. Johnny had even found me a place to live so I didn’t have to stay in the same compound as the rest of the zombies. I’d only spent a few days there, and the memories still sent chills down my spine.

“She seemed happy. The tears were a hit.”

“Excellent.” Johnny beamed while sliding another drink down the counter.

This one was full of warmed blood. Leon snagged it, tilting the glass in appreciation before downing its contents. Mr. Moony’s second was around a lot more than Mr. Moony. Most days and nights, Mr. Moony was at his beloved’s orchard. He and Peaches built a home there, and Mr. Moony seemed as happy as I’d ever seen a vampire.

I glanced around again, eyes wide, while considering the number of bodies dancing and mingling. “What’s going on?” I asked Johnny. “I know it’s Saturday, but this seems extreme.”

Instead of Johnny, Lizbeth leaned over and whisper-shouted in my ear. “They’re hoping to see some pixie action.”

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