Magic Steals by Ilona Andrews

fingers. He froze as if petrified, his flesh running off him in dirty rivulets. A blink and he became ash.
    I could do this.
    Another zombie grabbed me and melted. I held my arms out and walked right through the crowd. They fell all around me. Some bumped into me, some tried to bite me, some attempted to claw my back, but in the end all of them became liquid, then ash. Next to me Jim carved a path through bodies, each strike of his knife finding the target with deadly precision. Limbs fell as he cleaved them off, driving the knives with superhuman strength. Heads tumbled, severed clean off the rotting necks. Skulls cracked as the knives pierced the brain inside.
    We kept going. It felt so right. So right. If only all fights would be like this.
    The last zombie melted at my feet.
    Jim straightened, splattered by gore, and winked at me.
    I smiled at him and looked into the store. Three dead zombies lay on the floor, two bludgeoned and one beheaded.
    Jim rapped his knuckles on the door.
    Two heads popped out from behind the shelves, one blond—Brune’s—and the other dark haired, probably Christian Leander’s. I made a funny face and posed against the carnage next to Jim.
    The two guys left their hiding spot. Leander was carrying a replica sword that looked like it belonged to some barbarian and Brune was brandishing a crowbar.
    They stepped over the dead bodies and Brune carefully opened the door.
    â€œHi,” I said, with a bright smile.
    â€œHi,” the dark-haired guy said.
    â€œAre you Christian?”
    He nodded.
    â€œAre you afraid of zombies?”
    He nodded again.
    Right.
    â€œHave you seen your neighbor today?” Jim asked. “Steven Graham?”
    â€œNo,” they said at the same time.
    â€œWhat about Cole?” I asked.
    â€œCole and Amanda left,” Brune said.
    â€œThey went down to Augusta,” Christian said. “Until whatever this is blows over.”
    â€œHow sure are you?” Jim asked.
    â€œI saw them board the leyline last night,” Brune said. “Amanda wouldn’t get into the car after what happened yesterday, so I gave them a ride in my cart to the leypoint.”
    Jim glanced at me, a question in his eyes.
    â€œNo,” I said. “Augusta is too far for the curse to work.”
    Cole wasn’t our guy.
    â€œThank you,” I said and shut the door. “Steven.”
    Jim’s face snapped into a harsh mask. “Let’s pay him a visit.”
    â€¢Â Â Â â€¢Â Â Â â€¢
    WE got Steven’s address from his bodyguard at the courier shop. At first he didn’t want to tell us, and then Jim asked him if he was left- or right-handed. The bodyguard asked why and Jim told him that he would break the other arm first, because he wasn’t a complete bastard. The bodyguard folded.
    Now I was driving through an upscale neighborhood to Steven’s building. All of the houses on both sides of the road had really tall fences topped with barbed wire and at least three acres of land. Life in post-Shift Atlanta required fences and plenty of space between them and the house, so you could shoot whatever was coming at you.
    â€œWhat’s the deal with you?” Jim asked.
    I’d been thinking about the zombie fight. “Nothing.”
    â€œI have three sisters,” Jim reminded me. “I know what nothing means.”
    â€œWhat does it mean, Mr. Female Expert?”
    â€œIt means you’re upset about something, it’s been bothering you, but you don’t want to bring it up because you’re not sure you’re up for the conversation that might follow. Sometimes it also means I am supposed to magically guess why you are upset.”
    I harrumphed. It seemed like a good answer.
    â€œYou know I’ll never figure it out on my own,” Jim said. “Don’t be a chicken. Just tell me.”
    Come on, tiger girl. You can do this.
    â€œI just want to be clear. This