Sweet Venom

“Aaargh!” I scream.

A wave of adrenaline pumps through me. Tightening my legs around the creature’s waist, I lever myself up to eye level with the neck.

Before I can drop my bite, the beast twists around and, using its tail for leverage, slams back-first against the nearest wall. The impact stuns me and I lose my hold on the smooth exoskeleton. I crumple face-first to floor in a giant splat.

“Ugh.”

With the wind knocked out of me, I take a few seconds to recover. I sense the beast moving past me, through the door and into the hall. My body processes the adrenaline and my lungs struggle to suck in great big gasping breaths of air. There is a throbbing pain in my ribs where the beast must have gotten in a blow in the heat of battle. I hadn’t even noticed.

Can’t stop for pain. There’s a monster on the loose, and it has a head start.

I’m halfway out the door, checking the hall just in time to see the skorpios hybrid round the corner out of sight, when I hear a faint moaning from across the room.

“Nick,” I gasp.

He sounds hurt. I hurry back between the rows of desks to where he landed. I fling aside the desk he tried to wield against the monster.

“Stupid fool,” I mutter, leaning down to feel for a pulse.

His neck feels hot and full of life, with a strong and steady beat. What kind of idiot throws himself into a fight with a giant scorpion? Can’t he tell I can take care of myself? I don’t need anyone to save my skin, especially not a mortal human with zero clue that monsters are more than myth.

But he does have an uncanny ability to know just where the beastie’s bad parts are swinging.

Nick groans and turns his cheek toward my palm. I let my thumb brush gently over the soft skin beneath his eye. He looks so sweet and innocent and just . . . beautiful. I know it’s not a typical word to describe a guy, but there is something about the smooth texture of his skin, long blond eyelashes, and chiseled cheekbones that brings the adjective to mind. Without stopping to think, I lift my hand from his pulse point to trail shaking fingertips across his temple.

“Gretchen,” he whispers.

I jerk my hand back like his skin has turned white-hot. What am I thinking? I’m definitely cracking up. This boy has been nothing but trouble since he shoved his way into my life. I can’t go getting soft feelings for him. Or any feelings for him.

And I have a runaway monster to catch.

Shaking off the weird moment, I grab his shoulder and shake hard. “Wake up!”

His dark eyes blink open and find me immediately. He smiles weakly. “Gretchen.” Then, as if the memory of moments before hits him, he bolts upright. “What happened?”

“You, uh—” I hate to do this, after he was trying to be the hero and all, but it has to be done. It’s for his own protection, really. And mine. “You came on to me. I pushed you away, and I guess I don’t know my own strength, ’cause I sent you flying.”

His dark blond brows scowl. “No, that’s not what—”

“Sorry.” I push to my feet and pretend to dust off my jeans. “But don’t get so close next time.”

I’m already at the door when he makes it to his feet. “Gretchen, I know there was a—”

“Stay away from me, okay?” I ask, glancing back to make sure he’s not wobbling on his feet or anything. Then, before I can check myself, I add, “Please.”

I’m in the hall before he can answer.

Pushing Nick and my pathetic plea from my mind—I can’t believe I just begged like that—I break into a run after the creature.

I’m blind to the mostly empty halls around me. So I’m shocked when I round the corner and skid into a boy. You’d think I’d learn to watch where I’m going around corners, especially after last time, but I’m not exactly thinking straight at the moment.

“Sorry,” I mumble, sidestepping and moving on.

But the boy calls after me. “Grace?”

“No, no, no.”

Am I really still surprised at this point? It’s not as if nothing’s been going to hell in a flaming handbasket lately. From now on I should just expect the worst-case scenario on a regular basis.

I kick into full speed and am down the hall and out onto the sidewalk before the boy can say another word. No sign of the skorpios hybrid. Lifting my nose to the breeze like a dog, I inhale a big sniff and . . . nothing. Not a hint of monster on the air. How is that possible? It can’t have just vanished. I need to grid-search the area.

“Things can’t possibly get any worse,” I mutter as I reach the spot two blocks from school where I park Moira. I probably shouldn’t have issued a direct challenge to the universe like that but, really, what else could go wrong? As soon as I pull out into traffic, I voice-dial Ursula’s number. As I listen to ring after ring after countless ring, I drum my hands on the steering wheel.

“Come on.”

I keep trying as I circle the block around school and gradually radiate my search out to surrounding blocks. A dozen fruitless circles, a dozen phone calls, and a dozen this-voice-mailbox-is-full messages later, I pull Moira into our building and cut the engine. I drop my head against the lovingly worn steering wheel and close my eyes.

“There’s some seriously bad stuff going on,” I tell Moira as if she were not a car but a confidante. She is the closest thing I’ve got at the moment. “Monsters out in daylight, monsters coming to my school, monsters out in pairs and threes. Monsters getting away from me. My twin, who can see them too. Ursula needs to know about all of this. I need to know what’s going on, and she’s the only one who might have the answers.” I take a rough breath. “So where on earth is she?”