Archangel's Viper

“My weapons of choice are razor-sharp blades, Hollyberry,” he reminded her with a dangerous smile. “Eat your sandwich.”

Holly bit into it with a groan of pleasure. She didn’t speak again until it was all gone. “Why am I so hungry?” Even more so than before the craziness. “I swear I can feel that sandwich digesting at lightning speed.”

“According to Keir, your cells have entered a state of flux similar to a newborn vampire’s,” Venom told her. “Those vampires are fed blood steadily until their need flattens out, but your body was permanently altered by Uram’s energy. You carry angelic markers as well as vampiric.”

Holly looked over her shoulders. “Nope, no wings. Damn it.”

Laughing, Venom shifted to stand between her thighs, his hands on her hips. “You’re not a vampire, not an angel. You’re like Naasir, like me. One of a kind.”

“I like that.” At some point in that cold room with a crib that held a twisted flesh host, she’d come to terms with the strong, strange fusion that was her body. “My species should have a name.” She put her arms around the neck of the man who was to be her partner in crime for eternity.

Laughing, he said, “A Hollyberry.”

She kissed his laughing mouth, drank in his happiness. And it was all right. The past was done. Gone. Dead. The future awaited. And for her, that future glinted viper green and searingly bright.

• • •

Two days later, she went to the garage to get into her car and discovered a number plate that had her glaring at a certain vampire.

He winked. “I told you I’d get you one that said KITTY.”