Page 13 of Perfectly Perplexing Zombie

Dampness hung in the air. If we were farther inland, flurries would have floated in the air. As it was, there was a lingering dampness that was infinitely worse. I would have preferred the flurried snow. At least it would have some visual appeal.

Predictably, the human walked to a nearby car. It was nothing special, a little foreign model that passed its prime about five years ago. Still, it started right up with only a hint of regret. Following suit, I climbed into my own vehicle. The interior still had the scent of having just rolled off the lot.

There weren’t a lot of vehicles left on the road at a little after 3:00 a.m. Had the human paid more attention, he would have easily seen me following. Thankfully, this human was either oblivious or had no reason to believe anyone would bother following him. I didn’t have enough information to form an opinion. Yet.

I took the on-ramp to the interstate, remaining a few car lengths back while simultaneously keeping a keen eye on his car. Over an hour later, he exited, and again, I followed.

My prey wound his way down a few side streets, finally coming to a stop in front of a modest yet neat home. Hanging back, I watched him get out of his car, head to the front door, produce a key, and go inside. Lights illuminated the inside, and the human walked through the house as if it were his home. Most likely, that’s exactly what it was.

I checked my current GPS, mentally noting it and the surroundings. We weren’t far from Virginia State University. I didn’t know if that was significant or not. Was this man a student or, more likely, given his suspected age, a professor? Or did he have nothing to do with the university and it was little more than a coincidence that he lived here.

Quietly getting out of my car, I walked the house’s perimeter, ending on the small porch. There was a mailbox on the door, and above it, a house number and a last name.Stover.

No first name illuminated the door. I couldn’t be certain if the last name on the door belonged to the man who’d walked through it. Eyeing the area a final time, I casually walked back to my car.

Easing across the street, I found comfort in my vehicle’s plush seating. The automatic seat warmer was another plus. Humans were good at discovering new ways to find comfort.

Pulling out my phone, I typed in my current address and the name I’d seen on the door. I found research tediously tiresome. Some of my colleagues thought differently. Ironically, the one with the most experience was a name I was all too familiar with. Switching screens on my phone, I pulled up the name and hit send.

Two rings later, Hamish’s voice echoed down the line. “Hellfire, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Hamish McIntyre had been Arie Belview’s lawyer during Sedrick’s custody hearing. I did not hold that against him. Hamish was a fairy, and our laws were there for a reason. Fairies prosecuted and defended the accused. Who won depended on the fairy involved and the law in question.

“I require information,” I said.

“I see. What do I have to work with?”

“A name and address.” I rattled off both. “Will that be enough?”

“It should be, and I’ve definitely worked with less. I’ll contact you when I have what you desire.”

“Thank you.” The politeness was rote and nearly meaningless. Despite that, I said the words anyway. Fairies were proper until the moment we ripped out your jugular.

“Of course,” Hamish politely replied before ending the call.

I sat in my car, motor silently running, the warmth of the heated seat taking away the bitter chill of winter. Despite the warmth surrounding me, I couldn’t shake the cold that dug its icy fingers around my heart.

What interest did this human have in Wendall? And how did his interest affect my queen’s mission?

ChapterSeven

Wendall

“It’s not working.” I stared at my opposite arm. A new spot of necrotic skin was visible. I’d found another, smaller area near my belly button. I’d briefly shown that to Muriel also. Muriel was decked out in a black dress, with scarlet leaves and flowers splashed across the surface, and a matching head wrap. Golden earrings sparkled against her beautiful skin.

Frowning, Muriel gingerly traced my latest blemish. With a heavy sigh, she said, “I know, sugar. I was afraid it wouldn’t.”

Slumping down on my couch, I stared at my hands.

Muriel eased her way over, sitting beside me. For a few moments, neither of us spoke.

When I couldn’t take the silence any longer, I said, “It’s not your fault.”

Muriel’s bark of laughter didn’t sound like agreement. “I’m not so sure about that. I’ve never had a zombie rot prematurely. At least not since I was a kid just out of knickers.”

I wasn’t certain I knew whatknickerswere, but I thought I got the gist.

“It’s my fairy blood. It has to be.”

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