his hair out of his eyes. He had a great tan and his tousled blond hair gave him the appearance of a nerdy bad boy, if such a thing existed. No wonder Brynne was so slatheringly in love with him.
Suddenly a strange heaviness filled the air. My head buzzed a little. Goosebumps popped up along my arms and my chest heated. I tried to keep my focus, but the world started drifting off. I locked gazes with Owen, and tried to make my mouth form words, but instead my jaw just sort of hung half-way open. Fuzziness filled my head.
Owen rocked back on his heels, the right side of his mouth curling upward. “This is why it wasn’t a good idea to come up to your room.”
Wait, what did he mean by that? He didn’t think I wanted to. . . .
Owen strode directly to me, his gaze still firmly fixed to mine, but his eyes had all warm and gooey.
No. No way. Part of my mind was still intact, but my body no longer functioned properly and I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. Then Owen bent down, placed his mouth on mine, and I couldn’t even stop him from kissing me.
My entire body heated and the hairs on my neck prickled. I’d been kissed before, but my body had never felt like this before—especially weird since I didn’t like him in that way.
Thinking of Brynne and how totally wrong all this was, I tried to shift to push him off, but then I noticed my body was reacting in ways it never had. My arms were tingling and my body felt on fire. I wasn’t attracted to him, was I? Hot sparks slapped around me until I realized . . . the feeling wasn’t from enjoying being kissed by Owen.
“Oh, no.” I managed to find some little bit of self-will and ripped away from him so fast my shoulder shoved against his, pushing him to the floor with a loud thump. I heaved myself off the bed—not easy to do with my hands tied behind my back—and crouched down next to him as hot air surrounded me.
“I’m okay.” He rubbed his hip. “I won’t kiss you again if you don’t want—”
“Forget that right now.” My voice squeaked, and I motioned my chin around the room. “It’s here , Owen!”
“The demon?”
“Yes.” Hot air circled around me. Maybe it was an evil demon, after all. How was I supposed to know? At least I had some control over my body again. For how long, though, I had no clue. I gulped, tears burning my eyes. “It’s trying to take my body again.”
“Evil spirit, be gone.” Owen stood, bravely I might add, with his legs spread and his arms wide. “We are peace loving people. We won’t hurt you unless we have to.”
“Don’t threaten it, Owen. You might make it angrier.” I stood too, and pulled at my wrists, trying to break his shoelaces off to free my hands. “I can’t believe you tied your disgusting shoelaces around my wrists. I’m totally defenseless.”
How I’d mistaken a zombie attacking my body for being attracted to Owen, I’d never get. At least I didn’t have to feel guilty about my friend’s crush kissing me. It wasn’t my fault my body was being taken over by a zombie.
“Uh, Amy?”
My wrists throbbed from all the pulling, but I yanked even harder. I didn’t want to lose my body again. What if I didn’t get it back this time?
“I said, Amy!” Owen shouted.
Couldn’t he see that I had my own problems here? A zombie attacking me? Being tied up by his shoelaces? “What?”
He groaned. “You know that sixth sense we were talking about earlier?”
I flung my head up, staring at him, wondering why he felt the need to bring this up now. “Yeah?”
He sat back on the bed, his eyes bulging. “I’m having that feeling, too.”
“You can sense it?” I paused, wondering how Owen could sense it when, according to the zombie, I’m the only who had ever noticed its existence. “You have that sixth sense right now?”
“Most definitely.” His eyes bulged and he hugged himself, squeezing tightly. “Now, I can, um, feel some kind of heated suction. It’s spinning around me
André Dubus III
Kelly Jamieson
Mandy Rosko
Stuart M. Kaminsky
Christi Caldwell
A London Season
Denise Hunter
K.L. Donn
Lynn Hagen
George R. R. Martin