Fangs and Fennel (The Venom Trilogy #2)

Breathing hard, I struggled to think straight. The pain encompassed every aspect of my mind and thoughts. I wanted away from the vampires; I needed somewhere dark and quiet and cool to heal my wounds. Somewhere to hide.

I turned my back and dove for the tiny window over the sink. The shattering glass didn’t hurt me except where it landed on my hands and leg that had already been damaged, leaving me open to yet more injury.

Shouting erupted all around as I hit the ground with an unladylike splat. I pushed up and took off, running as fast as I could, doing my best to ignore the intense pain as it spread up my leg. I’d had burns before and worked through them; I could do it now too. The snake in me urged me on, self-preservation kicking into overdrive.

A flutter of wings drew my attention to the left, and I followed Ernie, blindly, unable to see through the wash of tears.

“Get into the water!” Ernie seemingly appeared at my side, and I stumbled to a stop. “Get into the water, you’ve got to wash it off!”

The sound of flowing, gurgling water drew me to it. A haze of pain coated my vision, so I followed the sounds until I was standing knee deep in a fast-flowing current. I sank down, burying my hands into the ice-cold water. A shuddering breath escaped me.

Ernie was in front of me; I could feel the wind off his wings as he trod air. But I kept my eyes closed, swallowing down the nausea that rose even while the pain eased a little.

“Alena, talk to me.” He touched the side of my face, and I slowly opened my eyes. The world shimmered and slowly solidified.

“I feel like I’m staring through a bowl of gelatin.” I shifted my leg and groaned as the pain spiked again. I let it float back down to the rocks on the riverbed and forced myself to remain still, the flowing current pulling whatever had been on the snake catcher’s loop away from me.

I blinked up at Ernie, a sudden thought making my adrenaline surge once more. “Did I lose them? Do I have to run again?”

He flew straight up into the air and stared back the way we’d come. “I think they gave up. You were moving too fast, even injured, for them.”

I lay back in the water. “Tell me if they come.”

He stayed where he was, but he kept glancing at me. “How bad are you hurt?”

“I don’t know, it’s like I dipped myself in oil and set it on fire.”

He grimaced and looked out around us again, doing a slow circle. Where was Remo when I needed him? Dang it all, this was kinda his fault; he could at least have the decency to show up when . . .

I lifted one hand out of the water. My fingertips were seared right through both my human skin and the snakeskin underneath, showing muscle and even a hint of bone. I shuddered, and not from the icy water. My snakeskin could take a rocket launcher. Santos had said the potion would work. Was that what had done it, or was it a special kind of metal on the snake catcher? Whatever it was Santos had used cut through me like fat-nosed Colleen going through a cheesecake. “Ernie.”

“Yeah?”

“What kind of material was that he had? It was like my kryptonite, wasn’t it? Silver, maybe? Could I be reactive to a metal like some other Super Dupers?”

He dropped like a stone, his feet dipping into the water, his whole body shaking. “They found you. You have to run again.”

I lurched to my feet and stumbled out of the water. “Where?”

Ernie did a quick spin in the air. “The Supe Squad could take them, even unorganized as they are. If you can make it.”

I slogged out of the water, limping hard. The burn had faded, washed off in the river. But the open wound was anything but pleasant. At least it didn’t make me lose my mind like the . . . whatever it was that had cut me open.

“You lead, I’ll follow,” I said. “I can’t think past moving.”

“Hurry, this way.”

I could only hope that he didn’t lead me straight to Theseus. Or worse, Hera. I forced myself to work through the pain. When I’d burned myself baking, I’d still had to bake, I couldn’t stop. This was the same. Work toward the goal through the hurt, through the sharp stabs. Hard breaths slipped out of me through clenched teeth, and I tried not to think about the warm blood sliding down my leg.

“The blood, that’s how they’re finding me.”

Ernie groaned. “As long as they don’t stop and lap any up, you’ll be okay.”

“Deep-fried dog turds, that . . . would be bad,” I whispered and forced myself to a higher rate of speed. I’d not even thought about the vampires getting a boost of power if they stopped and took some of my blood. They wouldn’t, though, would they? They wouldn’t know that my blood gave a vamp the increased speed and power that didn’t normally come to them even if they had lived thousands of years.

A streetlight flickered into view, and suddenly I knew where we were. Three houses down on the right was Merlin’s place. The windows were dark, though, and the door was boarded up. Not that I thought he’d help anyway, no matter what Yaya said.

“Ernie, I can find the station from here. Go get Remo. Please.”

Ernie flew backward in front of me. “Are you sure?”

“Please, find Hermes and get Remo. I can’t fight them like this.” I wasn’t sure I could fight them at all.

I ran down the street—okay, limped quickly down the street. From the corner of my eyes I saw movement between the houses, the flitting of shadowy forms.

They were surrounding me. With a whimper I forced myself to move faster, ignoring the stab of pain with each step, ignoring the hard ground beneath my bare feet.

Two vampires shot out from either side of me, and a new burst of energy fired through my veins. I dodged them, but only barely, as they reached for me. One of them had that damn snake catcher.

Shouting erupted all around, and their cries drove me forward. Something slammed into my knees, and I was sent flying through the air. I hit the ground hard, a large body on top of me. I stared up into the red beard.

“Viking.”

“Ball-crushing bitch,” he snarled.

I shouldn’t have laughed, I knew it. But I did anyway. I burst out laughing, unable to contain the hysteria, the fear driving it more than anything. Funny enough, Viking did not laugh with me.

He grabbed me around the neck and hefted me up, strangling me with one hand. I clawed at his arms and, slowly, consciousness faded.

As my awareness slipped, the Drakaina in me woke.

And she was not happy. It was like watching a movie from inside my head. I shot a hand forward, driving it into the back of Viking’s elbow and breaking his arm so badly the bone shot out the crook of his elbow. He screamed and dropped me, but I didn’t back off.

I grabbed him and yanked him forward, as if I were going to kiss him. Only I didn’t kiss him. I drove my fangs into his face, scoring his skin with the venomous tips.

Screeching, he slapped his good hand over his cheek and reeled back. I spun and caught the next vampire by his hair and twisted, yanking his neck at an impossible, bone-shattering angle.

As the blood pumped through me, I fought with my inner nature. I was not this girl; I was not this violent snake monster.