Archangel's Viper

She was outside by the time he moved around the car to open her door—and he’d moved with the striking speed of a cobra. “Well done, kitty.”

Giving him a patently false smile, she brushed nonexistent lint off her arm before heading up toward the wraparound verandah of Ash and Janvier’s home, the railing decorated with tiny lights that sparkled in the quickly falling night. The couple came out just then, smiles of welcome on their faces.

When their chocolate-colored mutt of a dog, its paws as huge as saucers, bounded out to sniff at Holly, she smiled and, bending, petted him with the ease of a woman who’d done the same many a time. The dog’s eyes closed in ecstasy at her scratch behind its ears, but it only allowed itself a moment before bounding over to sniff at Venom.

“Hello, Charlie,” Venom said, going down on his haunches. Janvier had sent him photos of the abandoned puppy he and Ashwini had adopted, a puppy who’d grown into a rambunctious dog who never tired of play, but this was the first time they’d met.

He held out his hand for Charlie to sniff.

The dog took its time doing so . . . before laving Venom’s face with a long lick, his tail wagging like a metronome.

Laughing, Venom played with the friendly beast for a minute before rising—to see Holly watching him with a small frown between her eyebrows. When he met her gaze, however, she looked away and returned to her conversation with Ashwini, while Janvier came over to take charge of the dog and welcome Venom.

Dinner was an unexpectedly relaxed affair—even Holly unwound and laughed with an open delight that made her eyes light up from within. Not with Venom, of course, never with him. However, she seemed at home with Janvier and his tall hunter mate. Out alone on the porch with Janvier at one point while Ashwini was showing Holly something inside the house, Venom took a sip of the wineglass of blood Janvier had handed him.

He shuddered and, pulling the glass away from his lips, stared at the swirling red liquid that gave an excellent appearance of being blood. “What is this?”

“Flavored blood.” Janvier grinned and took a sip of his own abomination. “We’re taste-testing this batch. What do you think?”

“Why does blood need to be flavored?” Good blood was a jolt to the system, a burst of pure life pouring through vampiric veins. “Blood—good blood—is beautifully pristine and perfectly balanced.”

“It’s this new generation of vampires,” Janvier said sagely. “They’re all about pushing boundaries and turning the old into the new.”

Snorting, Venom took a second sip—and shuddered again. “Reminds me of . . .” He frowned and made himself take another sip. “Actual red wine?” Amusement wove through his veins. “Someone has a sense of humor.”

“Elena and her business partner have hired a ‘renowned vampire nose’ who comes up with the flavors. Monsieur LaFerge is, mon ami, a pretentious ass I wish to throw into the Hudson, but as my Ashblade loves the dark-chocolate-infused blood he is responsible for creating, I’m forced to leave him be.”

“Not keeping your wife satisfied with your own blood, tut, tut.”

“Talk to me when you have a woman for longer than a night,” Janvier responded with the easy insult of a friend who’d known him for untold years. “Bringing home a bottle of chocolate-infused blood for my wife has certain advantages.” A very satisfied smile on Janvier’s face. “I am a most content husband.”

Venom had been betrothed once—an eon ago. He hadn’t thought of Aneera in as many years, having long ago left his past behind in a knot of grief and sorrow.

Janvier stirred. “Dmitri told us about the bounty on Holly.”

“I’ll keep her with me—they won’t get to her.”

“You’re planning to look into who it might be?” At his nod, Janvier said, “Use Holly. She knows the shadowy corners of this city far better than you do.”

Venom curled his lip. “She is an infant.” It was a reminder to himself as much as it was a statement.

“She’s been working with me and Ashwini for seven months,” Janvier said, his Cajun accent making music of the unexpectedly serious words. “Not the part that involves hunting certain immortals who fall outside the purview of the Guild—but in talking to those too scared or otherwise afraid of directly contacting the Tower.” A pointed look at Venom, the eyes that hinted at Janvier’s marshy homeland darkened to near-black by the night. “You’re too powerful. She isn’t. She’s one of them.”

Venom wondered that Holly had managed to sell that piece of fiction: he knew full well that she was utterly unlike the broken, weak creatures in the gray underground. Holly was a predator, albeit one who hadn’t yet woken to her full strength. When she did . . .

6

Holly bit her tongue all the way back to the city . . . until she couldn’t stand it anymore. “Are you going to bed?”

A sharp look. “Why are my bed habits any of your business, Hollyberry?”

She fought the urge to tear off his stupid sunglasses. “I know you’re old and probably need more rest,” she said with mock solicitousness, “but we should head to the darker end of the city, talk to a few people who usually only come out at night.” It frustrated her to have a leash, to have to ask his permission to go into her own world, but Uram hadn’t damaged her brain when he’d Made her. Holly understood that if she slipped that leash, the consequences could well be deadly.

And not just for her.

In truth, these days she was far more terrified of what she might do than what might be done to her. Even now, she wanted to claw and bite and cause Venom pain, wanted to make him bleed until she’d created a shimmering ruby pool around his body. Hand fisting at her side, she gritted her teeth and silenced the horrific whispers that came from the madness inside her. But no matter what she did, one thing she couldn’t afford to forget: that she was the nightmare in the shadows.

“Where would you suggest?” Venom’s calm tone had the hairs rising on her arms.

But Holly wasn’t afraid of the viper that lived in him. The darkness in her, the part that wasn’t other, but simply part of who she’d become, stretched out toward him. “A lot of information passes through the lower-end clubs,” she said. “I have friends who patronize those clubs.”

One hand lying easily on the steering wheel, Venom turned his head toward her. “Wouldn’t your friends call you if they’d heard something useful?”

“They’re not that kind of friends,” Holly said shortly. “If you can’t be bothered—”

The tires squealed as he made a hard turn in the direction of the beauty and death of the Vampire Quarter. She knew the clubs with which he’d be familiar—Venom walked the dark side, but he was a very powerful vampire, one of the most powerful in the city. And power called to power. He’d be known at places that were elegant and drenched in money and strength.

Today, she intended to take him to the far seedier side of town. “You have to let me lead,” she said, ready to fight him on this. “The people on the streets will talk to you out of sheer fear, but they won’t tell you anything.”

“How do you plan to explain my presence?” was his silken response.

“I’ll tell them we’re dating,” Holly said flippantly.

Venom tapped a finger on the steering wheel. “Do they know about your abilities?”

“The jagged speed, yes,” Holly said, suspicious of his suddenly serious tone. “I wasn’t able to hide it well at the start.”

“Then the two of us make sense.” A slow, taunting smile. “They will assume you are my current pleasure toy.”

Scowling because he was right, Holly didn’t speak again until he was pulling into a dark parking lot protected only by an aged chain-link fence. “I didn’t know you hated your car.” This area wasn’t exactly the safest.

He got out and shut the door, not coming around to her side this time. “No one will be touching this car.”

She realized why when she saw the number plate: VENOM.