Page 36 of Slayer Mom
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“So I was possessedby the Zombie Queen, and that’s like Alice in Wonderland? Is she Alice or the Red Queen, or the Queen of Hearts? Wasn’t there another one or was that the Disney adaptation?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said, sharpening my knife, or trying. Tom was showing me how to do it right, but apparently, I kept doing it all wrong.
“Why is your hair purple?”
I tugged on a strand of my formerly blond hair. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.” I’d grabbed the box of purple dye along with my Epson salts when I stopped at the corner store before I went back to the hotel. Tom and Gloria hadn’t been there, so I dyed my hair, went to bed, then woke up, took a shower, and went to track them down. Now, we were in the movie theater, locked in, staying closed for the matinee and the evening shows.
“I left Hazen,” I added. I needed to say that enough times that I started to believe it. That’s what the dye had been about. I wasn’t the sensible housewife anymore. I wasn’t interested in holding to society’s standards, which is why I wore one of Lock’s t-shirts and a hemp bracelet Wat had made for me last year at scout camp.
“Why?”
“So the zombies don’t kill him, or the vampires, or the werewolves.” And whatever else was out there, just waiting to pounce. I slipped and my knife cut through my pants and my leg as easily as butter.
“Looks like it’s got a good edge,” Tom said with a smile before he got up to get the first aid kit.
I held my leg out while he did stitches. They hurt, but not as much as leaving Hazen. “Tom, after you drank the Grand Master’s serum, did you have any side-effects?”
“Sure. I told you about the hallucinations. It was like drinking tar and pain.” He made a face. “I can still remember it curling my tongue.”
Gloria laughed and poked his shoulder. “But it saved your life, and that’s what matters.” They exchanged shy, kind of sweet looks that I had no idea was in either of their repertoires.
“Are you guys seriously dating, or was that just a zombie queen thing?”
“Oh.” Gloria’s eyes went big, and she darted uneasy glances at him. “I forgot that the two of you were lovers.”
I fell over backwards laughing, and the thread tugged on my skin, reminding me that I was still attached to Tom’s needle. “We’re not lovers. We’re slaying buddies.”
“I’m teaching her to slay,” Tom corrected. “We are definitely not lovers. I’m a strict Protestant. I would never take a lover.”
I stopped laughing. That made me think too many things about Hazen. I sat up and watched him finish working on my leg.
“What’s a Protestant?” Gloria whispered to me while he left to put away the first aid kit in the storageroom. The little kitchen in the theater was so cozy, way too cozy.
I shrugged. “Aren’t they like pilgrims?”
“So, he’s four hundred years old?”
I giggled. “Let me guess, that’s hot, right?”
She sighed dreamily and put her hand to her wild, frizzy hair. “He’s an immortal slayer. It’s very sexy.” The tape over her broken nose made her look more ridiculous than melodramatic.
“Will you be okay here while we go slaying?”
She sat bolt upright. “You’re leaving me alone? No way. I’d rather die than be left alone where I can be possessed again. That was horrible. I woke up to someone pinching my nose and forcing something down my throat. After that, I tried to get it out, but I could feel it growing until I passed out from not being able to breathe.” She shivered again. “I’ll be a slayer like you guys.”
“Tom?” I said as soon as he came back in. “Did you hear that? Gloria wants to be a slayer so she’s not by herself the next time she’s possessed.”
He shrugged and then studied her for a long time. “You’ll have to wear proper equipment.”
I glared at him. “What do you mean, proper equipment? I only have one pair of red pleather pants.”
“That isn’t slaying equipment, it’s luring gear. Protective gear is what I’m talking about.”
“Oh. That’s good then.” I smiled at Gloria, but somewhere inside, I was wondering why the crap Tom would dress her in protective gear while I was the bait. Seriously. He clearly liked her a lot more than he liked me. Where was the one man in the world who thought I was the best? Oh, right. He was at home sleeping with his stomach full of the last meat loaf I’d ever cook him.
I stood up. “Let’s go.”
