Fangs and Fennel (The Venom Trilogy #2)

The bus ride home was tedious, and my mind wouldn’t stop obsessing over the possibilities that lay between Remo and me. I couldn’t escape them, and each time I tried, the varied scenarios came flooding back. I finally resorted to reciting recipes under my breath, running through ingredients and instructions for everything from white chocolate–macadamia nut cookies to pasticiotti over and over again.

By the time I reached the Wall, I was beyond hungry, tired, emotionally drained, and footsore. The bus had taken me within two miles of the main entrance to the Wall, but I’d had to walk the rest of the way in bare feet.

I reached the forty-foot-tall Wall and paused, staring at the wide-open gates. A few Super Dupers came and went, but that wasn’t what caught my attention. The human protestors sitting to the side of the structure around a tiny burning fire, however, did catch my attention. As I approached, they all jumped up and waved signs at me, as if I wouldn’t see them otherwise.

“You don’t have to go back in there. Equality for all!” A young woman with dark curls and an earnest, pretty face held her hand out to me, and I stared at it like it was a bomb. She didn’t draw back. “Please, take my hand. We are all one in this world.” A lilting Irish accent wrapped her words up in a nice little bundle.

“Supernaturals are sensitive too! They have feelings!” another protestor yelled.

I paused. “Are you actually advocating for Super Duper rights?” They all blinked at me like I’d spoken Chinese, and I cleared my throat. “I mean, supernatural?”

“Yes, here, read this.” She thrust a paper into my hand. “You don’t have to live behind that Wall; we can all live together in harmony!”

I stared at the paper. It listed all the rights that Super Dupers currently lived without.

Lack of equality. No voice in the government. Inability to own property on the south side of the Wall. Inhumane treatment by the law in general. They were right, but they were also so very wrong.

My lips twitched and I couldn’t help it; I burst out laughing. “Listen, I know you believe it, but not all supernaturals are nice. Some of them are downright nasty and will attack you without thought. They will kill you as soon as they look at you.”

“You didn’t,” she pointed out.

I sighed. I didn’t know how to explain to her how I felt. I wanted equality; I would get my inheritance and bakery back. But the reality was, not all Super Dupers should be integrated into society. I thought about the deviousness of Merlin. The blood-lusting vampires who Remo kept a tight rein on. Even Oberfluffel’s werewolf task force. They were all deadly in their own ways and could make mincemeat pies of any human who irritated them. If I was honest, even I could be that deadly. At the stadium, it had been pure luck that I’d not mowed down a fair number of humans in my effort to get to Achilles before he killed Tad.

But whose decision was it to make?

Not mine.

And not the protestors’ either. There had to be a better system. I thought about Damara, the satyr and sometimes healer. She’d thought Zeus was the answer, that he could manage the population of supernaturals and help them integrate into the human world. Maybe he could have, if he’d cared about anyone but himself.

“Super Dupers—I mean, supernaturals—are not safe. You have to believe me that you are in danger here,” I said, frustration filling my words. How could I make them see, make them understand?

Almost as if on cue, a twisted werewolf came roaring, literally roaring, out of the Wall’s gate, partially shifted. He spied the group of protestors who cheered for him as he escaped the Wall.

Their cheers turned to screams as he rushed them, teeth snapping and spit flying. I could have almost sworn he laughed as he chased them around. Like a rat in the kitchen scaring all the old ladies. He passed me once, and there was laughter on his long muzzle. Definitely playing. But it only proved the point of what I was trying to say.

I leapt forward, the robe tangling around my legs. I dropped to the ground, struggled to my feet, and got in front of the group a split second before the werewolf came around for another pass.

“Stop!” I held a hand out, and he skidded to a halt, shook his head, and let out a whine. I put all the strength and power I could into my voice. “Go back, you stay behind the Wall, that’s where you belong, you maniac.”

He whimpered again, shook his head, and bowed his shoulders, his words slurred, as though he struggled to speak over his mouthful of teeth. “I’s just playing.”

“No playing with humans; you’ll hurt them.” I softened my tone, and he lifted a dark eyebrow at me over a bright-gold eye, hope lighting his features.

“You play?”

“No, go home.”

He bobbed his head and tried to go around me. “Home, good. Outside.”

I pointed at the Wall. “No. The north side of the Wall is your home. Go on now.”

Another low whine slid from him as he turned, tucked his tail between his legs, and scuttled back the way he’d come. He glanced over his shoulder once and stuck his overlong bright-pink tongue out at me. It flipped a good four inches out of his mouth. “No fun,” he grumbled.

I stood there and made sure he went back behind the Wall. He sat down right at the edge and stared at me. I rolled my eyes. At least he was listening. Sort of.

“You stopped him,” the Irish-accented girl said, awe in her voice.

I turned to look at the lady protestor. “Well, I couldn’t let him attack you. Even if he thought he was just playing.”

Tentatively, she reached out and put her arms around me, giving me a hug. Stunned, I stood there for a second before carefully hugging her back.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

I stepped away and headed over to the gate where the werewolf sat panting. He was all black with big golden eyes. But unlike the other werewolves I’d seen, he was neither human nor wolf, but stuck somewhere in between. Like he’d forgotten how to complete his shift.

“Aren’t you going home?”

“Waiting for home,” he said, which made no sense. How could he be waiting for home to come to him?

“Do you have a name, while you wait for home?”

“Alex.” He winked a big golden eye at me, like his name should mean something.

“Well”—I patted him on the head—“don’t go beyond the Wall, Alex. It’s not safe for you. Understand?”

He bobbed his head once and gave me another wink. “Pretty lady need help?”

“No, I don’t.” I laughed at him, and he shrugged and lay down at the inside of the Wall, like he really was waiting for something. Maybe his master? Silently I wished him luck in that. As long as he didn’t go chasing the humans again—even if he was just playing—all would be well for him. Or as well as it could be in this world of ours.

Another half an hour walk, and I was back at house number thirteen. Inside I could hear laughter and the dual heartbeats of Sandy and Beth. They were Greek monsters too, though a different flavor than me. Stymphalian birds were their designation, and they could shift into the deadly man-eating beasts the same as I could shift into my Drakaina form.