Thirteen Roses Book Five: Home: A Paranormal Zombie Saga Read Online Free Page B

Harriet, I have as much intention of making love to you as flying to the moon—’
    ‘I wasn’t thinking about making love. Maybe you could do me a nurse’s service?’
    She hissed at him and stormed to the door. ‘You stay here, in bed. Do you understand?’
    He didn’t reply and she rushed out, slamming the door behind her. He settled back against the pillows, sucking in air between his teeth. Tiny tits anyway. He could stay here for a bit longer. Not much reason to get up now he’d seen her. He lifted his left hand. Not much reason to get up at all.  
    Something got in his eye and he blinked it away, swallowing against the lump threatening to form in his throat. He still had his right. Most of it. He could live without his left hand. Although…
    He started to pull at the bandages with his teeth. Maybe he didn’t have to live without it. Maybe he could make himself a more useful tool for the Lord. If he was to spend his life fighting zombies, then why not have the weapons he needed on hand? He sniggered. That was a good one.  
    The bandages lifted scab and skin as they came off, and he scowled, grinding his teeth together to keep the shout of pain inside. He sneered at himself. He’d battled a demon, what was a bit of pain in his hand?  
    The bandages dropped to the sheet and he stared. His fingers were doubled over, like he had four joints instead of only three. The rest of his hand looked pretty good. There was potential there.
    His right hand was still wrapped and until it healed he couldn’t do anything, anyway. Both hands dropped to the sheets and his head rocked back against the pillow. This was so boring, so damned boring. He hated being trapped like this. He glanced at his hands again. Maybe he could begin surgery without his right hand.  
    He raised his left hand and stared at his little finger. It was held on by a strap of skin and the tiniest bone he’d ever seen. Little fingers were pointless at the best of times. He didn’t stop to think or give himself a chance to wimp out. He shoved his little finger in his mouth and found the cut. His last thought was that he might need to remove the knuckle as well. Then he bit down and his vision went dark.  

Luke

    The Father wasn’t listening. Was this how humans felt all the time? It had to be, because they never received an answer. He, on the other hand, expected one. But here and now he was finding it hard to remain faithful. How did humans do it, with thousands of years of never getting an answer, of never having proof? People like Alex made much more sense to him now.  
    Alex could see what he believed in, see it and prove it. But religious people believed in something with no substance. They believed in something they could never prove. Not until now.  
    How many believers would have found consolation in the appearance of Seph? Etienne and his men clearly had. At least someone had found something good in it. Luke was ready to spit at the constant questions going round and round in his brain. He was even enjoying training the ladies for the peace it gave him from the endless doubt.  
    Should he join Seph and Az and finish the job he started thousands of years ago? Was it time, finally, to overthrow the old bastard and bring about the new order? There was no logical reason he could think of not to. He could reopen Hell and run the Flights how he wanted. He would finally be in control of himself after three hundred years of slow, subtle brainwashing.  
    But it was that brainwashing that made this so difficult. Because no matter how compelling his old friends were, he found he couldn’t deny his origins or who he was. He was an angel. He may have fallen, or dived, as he preferred to call it, but he was still born among the stars.   He was alive because of the Father and he was human because of the Father and somehow the latter didn’t eclipse the former.  
    In fact, when he watched the ladies training and saw how they’d progressed in the