Broken Angel: A Zombie Love Story by Joely Sue Burkhart Page B

my ears. This was
the end, then. I’d die on this bridge. Maybe the doll would come
and take my place. Or was she here already? Is that why I couldn’t
feel anything?
    Stone pressed against my face. I’d fallen.
Damp, hard, unforgiving, stone and flesh were
indistinguishable.
    “Angel!”
    The voice tugged at my darkest memories. Not
Robert, but familiar, the way this bridge was imprinted into my
mind. He knelt beside me, metal flashing, clinking, and something
pressed to my neck. A flood of fire shot into my vein, startling a
moan out of my mouth.
    “I know, I know. Forgive me, Angel. It’s my
fault you feel so badly. I couldn’t think of any other way to reach
you, though.”
    I tried to sit up and see his face, but my
body still wasn’t mine to command. Molten lava crept through my
veins, melting my bones and boiling blood. Pain seared me, but I
didn’t cry out again. It was a blessing to feel, even pain, so I
endured. I didn’t want to forget a single sensation.
    Especially his hand against my face, his
thumb smoothing the silent tears from my cheeks. “Do you remember
anything at all?”
    “Bridge.” Pain sliced my throat like shards
of glass. “Doll.”
    “This bridge is the only place I thought you
might remember. What doll?”
    At last, I could see his face. Wild and
unkempt, dark hair hung down his forehead. His face was heavily
lined and grooved, his eyes dark but burning like coals.
    Every cell in my body recognized him. So I
dared to tell him the horror of the dream that I’d not mentioned to
my husband. “I’m the doll. She’s broken. Somebody cracked her head
open, and I’m inside.”
    Sorrow lined his face even more, his hands
shaking as he drew me to his chest. His arms locked about me.
Sensation exploded, so painful and overwhelming I couldn’t separate
scent from feeling, hearing from sight. He enveloped me, swallowing
me up and holding me safe, yet I still couldn’t remember his name
or how I knew him.
    “I had to replace your drugs with a placebo
so you’d experience the memories. I couldn’t think of any other way
to break through, Angel. I’m sorry, so sorry.”
    “I’m broken, my face, and the water…”
    A shudder wracked his body. His hands
smoothed my hair and his fingers trembled. “What else do you
remember?”
    I closed my eyes. “You. I remember you.” I
inhaled deeply, sandalwood spice, and touched the thick hair
hanging across his forehead. My heart steadied, beating in time
with his, and I suddenly remembered everything.
    I’d been married to Robert for only a few
months when I met the eccentric, brilliant doctor at a fund raiser.
My husband had promised millions to research, but even I knew he
made billions on the sales of those drugs to the aristocracy, since
he had part ownership in all the major drug and research
facilities. The newest research proved to be especially
earth-shattering: reanimation. Restoring life to dead cells,
reversing damage, healing cancer—altruistic promises on everyone’s
lips.
    At a price. Always at a price. And this
price had been set so extravagantly high that only the extremely
wealthy in Upper City would ever benefit from the miraculous cures.
Robert had seen to that personally, lining his pockets on other
people’s misery and hopelessness. He loved nothing like he loved
his money, not even me, his treasured trophy wife of only the
highest beauty and purist Upper blood. He’d joked to his cronies
that my blood didn’t run aristocratic blue, but gold to match my
hair…and his money.
    His cronies never knew my dreadful secret.
My blood had indeed hoarded something very rare but malicious,
discovered only after I’d miscarried our first child. Of course,
Robert had insisted that I consult with his brilliant doctor. I was
the first human experiment, a stunning success story that would
never be told. The Upper Governor’s wife could never be less than
perfect. He’d lose status, no matter how many billions he
possessed.
    With