Free Entranced by Jessica Sorensen Page B

cheek of the zombie’s face. “Being around death is in your blood even if you think it isn’t; otherwise, you wouldn’t have gotten the mark.”
    I absentmindedly touch the mark on the back of my neck. “How many people in your family are Guardians?”
    “My parents both are and so is my sister,” he says, brushing his hair out of his eyes as he leans in closer to the zombie. “Dash… He’s one, too, but he’s …” He trails off, clearing his throat. “Well, he’s a little less invested in the job than my family is.”
    I want to ask him if Dash is something other than just a Guardian. I don’t know why I think he might be other than the odd sugary scent coming off him. I don’t know of any creatures who smell like sugar other than Sprites, but that’s because they have sweet tooths. Dash can’t be a Sprite, though, since they don’t take on human form.
    Before I can ask Jax about it, he motions me to come over to him.
    I inch back. “No thanks. I’m good right here.”
    He gives me a tolerant look. “Alana, I just want to show you something. I promise you don’t have to touch it.”
    I begrudgingly inch over beside him, rubbing my nose as the stench burns at my nostrils.
    “See this right here?” He points at a faint sequence of symbols carved on the Zombie’s left cheek.
    I nod. “It looks like a tag for a paranormal experimental facility.”
    I try not to shudder. Paranormal experimental facilities are the worse. They kidnap anything with magic in their blood, including Keepers, lock them up, and do all sorts of experiments on them.
    His brows furrow. “How do you know about tags?”
    I shrug. “My parents talk about it sometimes. It’s crazy how many paranormal experiment facilities they’ve had to tear down.”
    “Yeah, they’re on the rise, too.”
    “Really?”
    He nods, reaching to zip up the bag. “I’ve been noticing a lot of tags lately.” After he zips up the bag, he pushes it back into the chamber. “And not just on Zombies. On Vampires, Fey,” his voice drops a notch, “Wolves.” He clears his throat. “But anyway, I’ve been looking into it, and I think they might be linked to each other somehow. I just don’t know who’s running the show.”
    “Is that part of your job?” I ask with skepticism. “To find out who’s tagging?”
    “I told you there was more to our job than finding dead bodies.” He steps toward me, tugging the sleeves of his shirt down. “Now, close your eyes.”
    I eye him with distrust. “Why?”
    He gives me a blank stare. “Because I’m going to shove you in the body bag with the Zombie.” When I roll my eyes, his lips quirk. “I need you to shut your eyes so I can get us out of here without you seeing where the entrance and exit to this room is.”
    “Fine.” I heave a dramatic sigh, pretending it’s a bigger deal than it is.
    Once I get my eyes shut, he steers me somewhere with his fingers enclosed around my upper arms and his chest pressed against my back. I try to breathe normally, but for some reason, my breathing is coming out in sharp, uneven pants. It only becomes harder to get air into my lungs when he moves his hands to my waist, his fingers brushing against my bare skin.
    I feel like I should say something, remind him of my no-touching rule. I mean, we just got all up in a Zombie for God’s sake. I shouldn’t want him touching me.
    But it kinda feels nice.
    Okay, a lot nice.
    Thank God he finally comes to a stop; otherwise, I might have done something stupid, like said my thoughts aloud or touched him back. Considering he’s my teacher or whatever the hell his title is—I’m still not clear on that—I don’t think it’d be wise to get involved with him.
    His fingers tense for a brief second before they fall from my waist. I take a deep breath and open my eyes, sighing in relief when I see that I’m standing in the center of the souvenir store again. I breathe in the fresh scent of non-Zombie air, smiling, glad