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22.Can’t Take Care of Herself

  When Kelly heard “thunder-attribute superpower,” a glimmer sparked in her eyes.

  She then hauled off and slapped Albert right across the face,

  “Slap…”

  “I’ve been too soft on you. You’re running wild. Get out.”

  Albert clutched his cheek, looking like a kicked puppy, like he couldn’t believe she’d smacked him.

  “Kelly…”

  “Out!”

  Kelly barked, a flash of green light in her eyes.

  “Yes.”

  Green light filled Albert’s eyes, and all his feelings fizzled out.

  He went numb and shuffled away, head down.

  Michael Joke watched in silence, something churning in his eyes.

  “Sorry. My guys can be a bit thick-headed. Miss Joke, you okay?”

  Kelly smiled sweetly, a whole different ballgame from a second ago.

  Billy Jean shook her head.

  To throw Kelly off the scent, she whipped off her sunglasses, showing a pair of all-white eyes.

  She could spin her head 360, so these peepers were no biggie.

  If she didn’t need blood, she could even pop them out and pop them back in like a pro.

  Kelly’s hand clenched tight.

  She wasn’t spooked by Billy Jean’s eyes.

  Instead, she was locked onto Billy Jean’s drop-dead gorgeous face, now in full view, her eyes filled with zeal.

  She’d found it, the face she’d been dreaming of.

  A creepy grin curled Kelly’s lips, making her look like a villain straight out of a horror flick.

  “Damn! Why does this dame look even scarier than me, a zombie?”

  Billy Jean rubbed the goosebumps on her arms.

  Michael Joke eyed Kelly, his dark eyes gleaming.

  “We’ve overstayed our welcome. Had the tea. We’ll shove off now.”

  Michael Joke was set on tugging Billy Jean out of there.

  Facing an unknown threat, he wasn’t about to put her in the line of fire.

  Kelly stood up.

  By now, she was back to her elegant, gentle self.

  “Hold up. Dinner’s ready. It’s nothing fancy. Have a bite before you go.”

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  “No, thanks.”

  Michael Joke was dead set on leaving with Billy Jean.

  “Click…”

  A dozen guns were trained on them again.

  Michael Joke, Billy Jean: …

  The big bruiser hollered,

  “Didn’t you hear the lady?”

  “Panther, don’t be rude to our guests.”

  Kelly faked a scolding, but she didn’t tell the guy to stand down.

  Michael Joke and Billy Jean could see right through it.

  Seemed like once they were in the lion’s den, they weren’t getting out unless they wiped the whole crew out.

  Well, they’d play along and see what these yahoos were up to.

  “Since Miss is so bent on us staying for dinner and it’d be rude to say no, we’ll take you up on it, Miss.”

  Hearing that, Kelly sashayed over and looped her arm through Billy Jean’s like they were best buds, all smiles.

  “It’s my pleasure. Been ages since we had any ladies around. I’m over the moon to see you, Miss Joke.”

  The second Kelly got close, Billy Jean scrunched up her nose.

  This time, she caught that familiar stench again.

  That smell only came from zombies that had been chowing down on flesh and blood for ages.

  But Billy Jean could tell Kelly wasn’t a zombie.

  So there was only one explanation. She…

  “Miss, dinner’s served. You can dig in.”

  The servant said, polite as can be.

  “Okay, scram.”

  Kelly, still latched onto Billy Jean’s arm, led the way to the dining room and said, real patient-like,

  “Later, you gotta try the rare steak. It’s melt-in-your-mouth tender and juicy. One bite and you’ll be hooked.”

  When they hit the dining room, Billy Jean saw the picture-perfect, blood-dripping steaks on the table.

  A wave of nausea hit her like a ton of bricks.

  No matter how nice the plate looked or how neatly the steak was sliced, that smell was a dead giveaway.

  Michael Joke caught her grimace and shot her a questioning look.

  Billy Jean mouthed something.

  Michael Joke got it and his face clouded over.

  Things were probably way more tangled than he thought.

  “Come on, sit. Don’t be shy.”

  Kelly urged them to park it.

  Michael Joke quickly masked his feelings and said, calm as a cucumber,

  “Miss Kelly, sorry. Forgot to mention we’re vegetarians.”

  Billy Jean was a pro at keeping a poker face.

  With her shades on, it was even tougher to read her.

  Kelly didn’t push it. Understandingly, she said,

  “That’s a bummer. Since you don’t do meat, I’ll have someone whip up some noodles.”

  She was so understanding, so sweet, with that pretty face.

  Anyone else would be falling all over her.

  But to Billy Jean and Michael Joke, all they saw was how deep she was burying the truth and how scary she was.

  “Miss Kelly, don’t go to any trouble. We’re beat. Could you set us up with a room to crash in?”

  Michael Joke knew full well they weren’t getting out of there.

  So it was better to hunker down and make the enemy let their guard down.

  Kelly seemed pleased and nodded, beaming.

  “Sure.”

  She then turned to the crew below and said,

  “Panther, show our guests to the guest room.”

  “Yes, Miss.”

  Panther dipped his head.

  “Follow me.”

  Michael Joke and Billy Jean tailed Panther up to the second floor and stopped at a door.

  “This one’s for you.”

  Panther pointed at Michael Joke and then said to Billy Jean,

  “Yours is over there. Come with me.”

  Michael Joke snagged Billy Jean.

  “We’ll share. My sister’s blind and can’t fend for herself. I gotta be there to look after her.”

  “But…”

  Before Panther could finish, Michael Joke yanked Billy Jean into the room and slammed the door.

  “Boom…”

  Panther: …

  Inside the room.

  “You said who can’t take care of themselves? You’re the one who can’t take care of yourself, you jerk.”

  Billy Jean ditched her poker face and went full-on ferocious, grabbing Michael Joke’s neck and shaking him like a rag-doll.

  Michael Joke held up his hands, letting her blow off steam.

  “Okay, Billy Jean. I never knew you were so touchy. It was just an excuse. Is it really worth getting all riled up?”

  “You said I was blind. I bit my tongue. Now you say I can’t take care of myself. Don’t I have any pride?”

  Billy Jean’s fuse was lit.

  “Okay, firecracker. Instead of stewing over your pride, you’d better focus on our mess.”

  Michael Joke reached out and tousled her hair.

  Billy Jean swatted his hand away and said, nonchalantly,

  “If anyone should sweat it, it’s you. It’s not my problem. I’m already six feet under.”

  “If I die, your food supply dries up. You really don’t care?”

  Michael Joke said offhandedly.

  Billy Jean froze.

  Losing her food source was unthinkable.

  She rolled up her sleeves, baring her teeth and claws, ready to bust out.

  “Screw it! Never mind what they’re plotting. I’m gonna wipe them out and make them wish they’d never been born.”

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