That was something pop culture got wrong about zombies. They didn’t travel in groups. The reason could be seen here, as they snapped and snarled at each other below while they stumbled forward and into the empty pool.

“It’s like they’re waiting on something,” Zayne continued. “But that doesn’t make sense.”

Very little of this made sense. Like, how did we just happen to sense a demon and end up here, where an assembly of the dead was waiting and the demon we’d sensed was MIA? Unease stirred. Could we have been led here? “Zayne—”

Cold air blasted the nape of my neck. My head cranked around. The frigid temperature reminded me of when I’d accidentally walked through a ghost, but this wasn’t a full-body blast. This chilly sensation settled in the same spot that burned when I felt a demon, along the bottom of my neck and between my shoulder blades.

“What?” Zayne touched my arm.

I rubbed the back of my neck. The skin felt normal, but the chill was still there, tingling. “Do you feel anything strange?”

“No. Do you?”

My gaze found his as I dropped my hand. “It’s weird. Like a cold—”

A guttural howl whipped our heads toward the pool. One of the zombies had stepped forward, its head thrown back as it screamed. I had a sinking suspicion we’d been spotted.

“Um, I think they want to say hi,” I murmured.

“Dammit,” he growled. “Well, no more waiting around to see what they’re here for. We can’t let them leave.”

“You know, I’m beginning to think they don’t plan to leave,” I said, not even bothering to keep my voice low as another screamed. “I think we’re the reason they’re here, but since they don’t have the capacity to plan, I’m thinking that demon led us here.”

“I think you’re onto something.” Zayne rose. “But why would be the question.”

“I don’t know. Maybe they think we can’t take them.” I peered over the railing. “How high up do you think we are?”

“About twelve feet from here to the pool deck. Why?”

“Perfect.” I sent him a grin. “Beat you down there.”

Zayne spun toward me, my name a shout from his lips, but I was fast. I vaulted over the railing and dropped into nothingness. Musty air seemed to pull me down. The fall took seconds, but I landed on both feet. The impact was jarring, shooting a dull burst of pain along my ankles and up my knees into my hips, but it faded quickly enough. I rose, unsheathing my daggers.

“Dinnertime,” I called.

Several zombies turned to me, and the fresher ones scrambled for the pool wall, clamoring up its smooth sides. I caught glimpses of flayed skin and gaping throat wounds. One came over the side onto the deck and blocked most of the moonlight.