Page 31 of Perfectly Perplexing Zombie

ChapterTwelve

Hellfire Rayburn

Professor Arthur Stover was…odd. Hamish was correct. Arthur Stover had his PhD in ancient history and specifically focused on ancient civilizations surrounding the Mediterranean. Arthur would enjoy meeting with the vampire council if they didn’t drain him dry first. For centuries, that was the area most ancient vampires called home. It wasn’t the cradle of their existence, but most believed it was close enough to their beginnings to make the oldest of their kind feel a sense of home.

Given that none knew where the first vampire came from, I thought the area might be more romanticized than truthful, but far be it from me to argue the point with an ancient vampire.

I wasn’t certain if the good professor noticed me, sitting in the back third of his classroom surrounded by much younger and more eager minds. Perhaps because I’d lived those times, I found his class profoundly boring. Perhaps my mind was simply too distracted to fully enjoy the topic. The reason didn’t particularly matter. I would not be taking Professor Stover’s test on the subject.

Charms were useful, even to fairies. There were rare occasions when one didn’t wish to be identified as a fairy. I appeared to be like any other dull human to those surrounding me. I wasn’t certain what the exact image was, only that it worked well and made me blend in with the crowd.

Professor Stover’s voice droned on. It reminded me of an annoying gnat or maybe a mosquito. I wanted to swat its incessant hum into nonexistence. Releasing my inner fire would expose me, and killing a human without proper justification would be against fairy law. We were as beholden to the rules as other species. As annoying as those restrictions were, Queen Silvidia was wise to bind her own subjects along with every other sentient being.

Fairies were not altruistic creatures. All of us craved power. Where we differed was what we chose to do with that power. Ruling over others held no personal appeal. However, there was no shortage of others who felt differently.

“I can’t believe she agreed to go out with you.” Two human males sitting in front of me didn’t seem interested in the good professor’s teachings either. Their minds meandered toward greener pastures as they covertly whispered to each other.

“I know. I felt like an idiot asking, but I thought, why the hell not? All she could do was tell me no.”

“Or to go fuck yourself.” The instigator of the conversation chuckled.

“Or that,” the other agreed.

“Where are you taking her?”

“I’m not sure. Honestly, I didn’t think I’d get this far. I haven’t given it much thought.”

“Let me think on it. I don’t think the usual stuff will do. You’ve probably just got one shot, so you’ve gotta make it count.”

Their heads bent closer together with barely audible conspiratorial whispers shared between them. I leaned in just a little bit, trying to hear their thoughts on what the idea of a perfect human date might be.

I didn’t catch much more. The professor’s tone increased, pushing dangerous triggers in my brain and snagging my attention. My irritation grew. I wanted to know what the two human males were conspiring. I wanted to break into their conversation and get their opinion on my own situation. One of them appeared quite knowledgeable on the subject if the other’s rapt attention was anything to go by.

My thoughts twisted. When had I been reduced to this? Eavesdropping on a pair of barely adult human males as they discussed the trials and tribulations of romantic dating. Hamish would find endless amusement, while others of my kind would be appalled to the point of shunning me.

But my queen had given me a command, and I’d promised to fulfill it. I needed to convince Wendall to accept my bond. The human-turned-zombie had thrown down a challenge, and Hellfire Rayburn did not shy away from such things.

My back straightened as every muscle went taut. My lips twitched, itching to grin. Unwittingly, Wendall had done the impossible—he’d piqued my interest. With sudden clarity, I realized I didn’t simply want Wendall to accept my bond because of my queen’s request. I wanted him to do so because he’d initially refused.

What a precious rarity. Centuries of existence easily became boring. Wendall was anything but. As I sat there, I realized I truly wanted to get to know Wendall better. I wanted to understand all the reasons he’d turned down my offer of eternal life. I wanted to know what his living life had been like and why he’d always yearned for a pet he could never have. I wanted to know what connection he had with Professor Arthur Stover.

In a word, I was curious, and curiosity could be a wondrous, dangerous thing.

My hearts tripped and fluttered into a rhythm I hadn’t experienced in centuries. Easing back into my uncomfortable seat, Professor Stover’s voice dulled into the background hum of a broken refrigerator as he was nearly drowned out by consuming thoughts of Wendall. I wanted to see the little zombie again. Too many questions were tumbling through my brain that would not be satisfied otherwise.

* * *

“I’m working,” Wendall hissed as I followed him. Dusk was moderately busy. Perhaps I should have come later. Wendall did seem busy. He was scurrying around the tables, lining the outer edges of the dance floor, collecting dirty dishes and glassware. The tub he had propped on his hip was almost full and looked heavy. I’d offered to carry it for him, and he’d flatly declined. Trinket was perched on his shoulder, tail wrapped around Wendall’s bicep. She seemed content and well-settled.

“I could assist with your activities,” I offered, although I’d never lowered myself to such menial labor. I did not find fault with those that did. I’d been born a warrior, and cleaning tables and filling drink orders did not fall into part of that job description.

Wendall vigorously shook his head. “You don’t know what you’re doing, and besides, this is what Mr. Moony’s paying me for.”

“I doubt he would mind, and you could show me what to do.” Honestly, I did not understand his protests.

“Ugh!” After slamming down his glassware bin on a nearby empty table, Wendall spun, his blue eyes glaring up at me. “What is your deal? Why do you suddenly care?” Slashing a hand through the air, he said, “No, forget that. I know why you care. Your queen ordered you to.” Wendall sounded disgusted as he defensively crossed his arms over his chest.

Trinket spat in my direction before snuggling deeper into the crook in Wendall’s neck.

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