Charlotte winced as an inebriated party-goer stepped on her foot, but she kept moving determinedly toward the doors that led to the balcony. The Duncans would be delighted with their party; it was clearly the event of the season, and their daughter had been successfully launched into society.
Unfortunately, the noise, the heat, and the crowd combined with Charlotteâs pounding headache to make her want to escape for a breath of fresh air. Reaching the balcony doors, she opened them to find two people engaged in a passionate kiss.
âIâm sorry.â The words escaped her mouth before she realized it would have been better to make an exit without being noticed. The couple jumped apart.
Charlotte felt the blood drain from her face as she stared at her fiancé. âJohn! I thought you were dead!â
John dropped the woman in his arms and rushed to Charlotte. âYouâre okay?â
âOf course I am.â
âThen why did you think I was dead?â
âI was being sarcastic! I havenât seen you all night. You didnât even join me for the toast. After our fight in the car, I assumed you wanted some space. I donât know why you canât agree to allow a priest to marry us.â
âCharlotte, Iâm a scientist, I donât believe inâah, forget the argument. Donât you realize whatâs going on?â
âBesides me finding you in some womanâs arms? Really, John?â
âForget her, too,â John said, indicating the woman draped over the balcony railing like a doll dropped on her stomach. âTheyâre here,â he said ominously.
He glanced over the balcony and Charlotte followed his gaze. On the rose-laden grounds below, a scatter of party-goers screamed and fled from the motley gang of lumbering zombies pursuing them.
âNo,â Charlotte gasped. âThe zombiesâthe ones youâve been studyingâare here?â
âNot the ones Iâve studied, in particular. Probably from some other nest.â
News stations had been reporting contained patches of zombies springing up across the state ever since terrorists had unleashed a strange virus during a local fairâs pie-eating contest. Johnâs research lab had been granted access to a couple of the captured monsters, and he said heâd been making great strides in finding a way to manage the âcondition,â as he called it.
âItâs going to be okay, Charlotte.â
âOkay? Oh, I hate your research!â
âDisease control is necessary research, Charlotte. My work saves lives.â
âI know, butâ How can you talk about âcontrollingâ them? Theyâre zombies! They eat peopleâs brains!â
He kissed her forehead then nuzzled against her hair, a sensual touch that always sent shivers up her spine. âI wonât let anyone touch your beautiful brains.â
Charlotte clung to Johnâs tall, muscled body. Despite the fact his research had taken a strange turn of late, she loved this man. She wanted to marry him. Even if they had argued all the way to the party about it. Theyâd both agreed on a small ceremony, but Charlotte insisted they should have a Catholic priest officiate the marriage, while Johnâbeing a scientistâpreferred no religion be involved.
But right now the argument didnât matter, as the screams from below were making her heart pound like bongos.
âDonât look.â Johnâs deep brown eyes found hers. âI will protect you.â
Charlotte locked her gaze with Johnâs. Never had she seen her geek of a fiancé act so manly. Normally he had his eyes glued to a computer report or on a petri dish. This powerful, determined side of him stirred a wanting in her sheâd never experienced. For the first time, she regretted their agreement to wait until after they were married to have sex. âPromise?â
âIâd die for you, Charlotte.â
âDonât say that! Oh, John, donât let them get us. Not before weâre married. Not before weâveâ¦â
He smirked. âYou think Iâm going to let a zombie chew on me before Iâve had a chance to make love to the most beautiful girl in the world?â
Basking in his adoration, Charlotte blushed. âAwwââ
Just then she saw John swing a wrought-iron patio chair straight toward her. She screamed and ducked. Behind her, a zombieâs head went flying off its neck as the wrought iron easily cut through its decaying flesh and bone.
John helped her to stand and wiped a chunk of zombie from the shoulder of her pink satin evening gown. âClose one. This must be an older nest of zombiesâthe older ones are not as durable. That could prove to our favor.â
âDurable?â Growing queasy, she wilted into his arms. âI canât do this.â
âYou donât have to, sweetie. Stay by me. Iâll get you to safety.â
âWait, first weâve got to find Tina. I donât want my best friend to get eaten by zombies!â
âRight. But we gotta move, and fast.â
He lifted her and carried her over the zombieâs still-twitching body, then set her down. She brushed bits of something she didnât want to examine too closely from her floor-length gown, and then they both dashed through the eighteenth-century mansion where Tinaâs family had hosted her party.