"Has anyone else?"

"Not to my knowledge."

"Oh," I said, my shoulders slumping.

"There's nothing wrong with you, Ali. You can see zombies when not many others can. Seeing witnesses or whatever is probably no different than that." He ruffled my hair, making me feel about three years old. "Now come on, we've got a lot to do."

After tossing him the keys, I exited the Jeep and headed toward the house. Halfway there, he was at my side, twining our fingers and tugging me toward the barn in back.

"This way," he said-and he refused to release me.

We were holding hands as if we were a couple.

The closer we got to the door, the louder I heard the grunts and groans coming from inside. I blinked, thinking it sounded like people were being tortured in there.

Turns out, yes, they were being tortured. Only, they were doing it to themselves. Throughout the barn I saw workout equipment, a training mat and even a boxing ring, as well as all the boys who'd been hanging around Cole that first day of school, plus a few that hadn't.

Cole made the introductions. There was Lucas, who was gorgeous and black, and practically bench-pressing a bus. He had a house arrest anklet on, and yet, I was pretty sure I'd seen him at Reeve's party.

Derek, also black, stood at the end of a stall, shooting a dummy dressed to look like a zombie. Bronx hammered away at a punching bag. Brent, a blond, held it steady. Collins, a boy with a shaved head and house arrest anklet of his own, and Haun (Spike), an Asian boy with dark hair and eyes, were sword fighting, and, judging by the sound of metal clanging against metal, with real swords.

A smorgasbord of hot, sweaty guys and warrior weapons. I'd stepped into every girl's fantasy.

Frosty and Mackenzie were running the treadmills. Trina and Cruz (Turd), a Hispanic boy with brown hair and a scar running down the side of his cheek, were in the ring, boxing without gloves. Aka punching the crap out of each other.

As I stood there, taking everything in, I could make out a thousand different scents. Something floral from Mackenzie, something musky from Haun. Something fruity from Collins.

"You guys do this every day after school?" I asked, trying to hide my nervousness.

"Pretty much. Strength and stamina will save your life. Plus, we can take our weapons into the spirit realm, and they help us hobble the zombies for easier elimination."

"So I'll be learning how to use them."

"Yes, but because of your injuries, you're only doing spirit projection, the treadmill and target practice today. Once you heal, we'll get you started with everything else."

"Okay."

"You ready?"

"Yes."

"Good." The way he eyed me up and down made me feel like a bug under a microscope. He took in everything, missed nothing. "Step out of your body."

It took me a moment to register what he'd said. "Just like that?" I snapped my fingers, and gazed around self-consciously. "Here, now?"

He gave me an unsympathetic nod. "Just like that. Here and now."

For a long while, I tried, I swear I tried, but with no results. No matter how hard I attempted to push my spirit out of my body, the two remained connected.

"You've done it before," Cole reminded me.

"Yeah, but I was under zombie duress."

"How about this? Step out of your body or I'll put you over my knee and spank you in front of everyone."

I huffed and puffed and gasped out, "I'd like to see you try!"

He reached for me. With a squeal I slapped his hand and darted out of the way.

"Five," he said, a steely glint in his eyes.

I tried for bravado. "What, you're counting like you're my mother?"

"Four."

He was counting. Great. I took a moment to breathe in and out, slow and measured, my determination rising.

"Three."

I closed my eyes, visualized the zombies from the cemetery, the ones who'd hovered over my dad. My determination became a burning fire in my chest. Faith. I just needed faith. I could do this.

"Two."

I would do this. I would. Nothing could stop me.

As easy as breathing, I stepped out of my body.

One moment I was sweltering, the next I was bone-chillingly cold. My teeth chattered as I scanned the barn. I could see the glow of the Blood Lines, the smears over each of the windows. I could see each of the kids moving at a slower pace than I'd realized, sweat sliding down their temples, a bright light-energy?-softly radiating from their pores.

Cole possessed the brightest light.

The scents inside the building intensified, so strong now my nostrils actually stung.

"Go back," Cole said, his voice cranked to its highest setting.

Cringing, I turned and saw that my body was frozen in place, perched right beside him. My expression was pinched with concentration. "How do-"

"Don't speak," he shouted, and again I cringed.

"You don't speak!" I shouted back.

Cole reached out to slap his hand over my mouth, but his hand moved through me. For a moment, I felt as though I'd bathed in warm honey.

"What?" I asked.

Paling, he pointed to his mouth. His jaw was working, the muscles twitching, but his lips remained stuck together.

In an instant, I remembered. Whatever I spoke in this spiritual realm, and believed that I received, I would get. "You can speak, you can speak," I rushed out.

Instantly his lips parted. "Not another word," he growled.

Eyes narrowed, he reached out to touch his fingers to my body's fingers, then motioned for me to do the same. Mirroring him, I placed my spirit fingers against my natural fingers. At the moment of contact, the rest of me slid into place as though pulled on a tether.

"Sorry," I hurried to say. "I'm sorry, but I thought I couldn't violate free will, no matter what I said."

"I told you there were rules and with rules come exceptions. Sometimes, when the right command is voiced, and it's for defense, to protect yourself, free will is the weaker of the two and overshadowed."

"How? I told the zombies to let me go, but they still came back for a second helping. Believe me, the command was to protect myself."

"You spoke to them all at once, I'm guessing, and weakened the power of your command, each one of the zombies experiencing only a measure of the compulsion to obey rather than the full force."

"Oh." Clearly, I had more to learn than I'd realized.

"Now leave your body again."

During the ensuing forty-five minutes, I was only able to exit my body four times.

"Enough," he finally said. "Practice separating at home, in a locked room you are not to leave. Silently. You need to be able to do it in an instant."

"I will. But how do I make my hand glow the way you did, when you reduced the zombies to ash?" I'd done it once, but wasn't sure how or if I could do it again.

"While I'm fighting, when I know I'm going for a death blow, it does it on its own."

"You don't even have to think about it?" Wow.

"Not anymore. Now listen." His voice deepened with a disobey-and-suffer sternness. That tone was probably the reason he was leader of the group. "Do not practice that at home. You'll accidentally burn down your grandparents' house. For the time being, one of us will take care of killing any zombies you disable. But if your hand lights up on its own while we're out fighting, don't try to stop it. Just go with it. We'll stay out of your way."

Subtext: I could accidentally hurt each one of his friends. Awesome.

"Also," he continued. "While practicing, never leave your body in a place people can find you. While fighting, allowances sometimes have to be made. Try not to, but if you must, do it. But never speak while you're out. You can cause all kinds of damage, and it's better not to risk it."

"Got it." Although, with practice, we could train ourselves to say only the right things. No need to mention that little gem now, while his lips were probably throbbing from my accidental command for silence.

"Frosty," he called.

Frosty knew what Cole wanted without having to be told. He stopped the machine he was on, hopped off and grabbed a bottle of water, draining the contents in seconds.

"Your turn," Cole said to me.

Well, what do you know? I'd get to run next to my least favorite person in the world.

"Did you bring workout clothes?" Cole asked me.

I licked my lips as I studied my shirt and jeans. I'd sweat through these in minutes and look ill instead of flushed with health like Mackenzie. "No."

"No worries. I bought you something." There was a hint of relish in his tone. "Bathroom's through there. I put everything you'll need in your locker."

I had a locker?

The bathroom was like every locker room in every high school across America. My cubbyhole was long and red and next to Cole's. Inside rested a blue sports bra and the shortest, tightest pair of spandex shorts I'd ever seen, plus a pair of socks and running shoes.

My cheeks heated as I changed. At least he hadn't bought me any panties.

When I emerged, I felt naked. All of my stomach was bared, as well as the full length of my legs. I was probably flashing a little cheek, too. Cole, who was waiting for me next to the water cooler, whistled as he looked me over. Once again I felt like a bug under a microscope, only this time I felt like a bug wearing pasties and a thong.

"Nice." The relish had been replaced by a husky note of approval.

"Your version of playing dress up sucks," I muttered, tugging on the hem of the shorts.

He barked out a laugh. "I disagree. But if it makes you feel any better, I'll be stripping down, too."

"It doesn't." I'd probably mumble incoherently and drool.

His wanton grin suggested he knew exactly what I'd been thinking. "Come on, let's get you started." He led me to the treadmills.

Though Mackenzie never glanced in my direction, she stiffened, even stumbled. I checked out her time. She'd been running for an hour and a half. I also checked out her speed and her incline, and set mine to something faster and higher, though I waited to press Start. I wanted Cole gone first.

Of course, he lingered. "Ignore each other," he commanded sternly.

She snickered. "Yes, Daddy."

His eyes narrowed, but his focus remained on me. "Be careful. Don't push yourself too hard."

I opened my mouth to reply, but Mackenzie beat me to it. "This is truly pathetic. Both of you should be embarrassed."

"Do I need to talk with you outside, Kenz?"

He had a nickname for her. How wonderful.

"No," she snapped.

"Good."

She added, "If I have to listen to another one of your lectures about making friends with the new girl I'll feed myself to the zombies."

"You won't need to. I'll ring the dinner bell and hand you over." With that, he strode away, finally leaving us alone.

Get it together, Bell.

For the first ten minutes of my own run, Mackenzie and I both obeyed him. I don't know why she did, but I couldn't take my eyes off Cole. He'd removed the wife-beater and exchanged his jeans for black mesh shorts that hung low on his waist, revealing a trail of dark hair from his navel to the shorts, before joining Lucas at the weights.

His muscles strained as he lifted the bar. Lowered. Lifted. Sweat began to pop up on his skin, dripping down...down...

"I hope you're enjoying his attention," Mackenzie said, good behavior time plainly over. Her curling ponytail swung with her every pounding step. "It won't last."

I wasn't even sure I had his attention, not in the way she meant. "Just because you couldn't keep him doesn't mean other girls will have a problem doing so." Brave words from a girl who'd never been on a real date with him.

"Is this our little chat?" She wiped her brow with the back of her hand. "I'm disappointed. I expected you to throw a punch at the very least, but I should have known you'd prove to be a coward."