Under Her Skin (8 page)

Kade ran his fingers through his hair, sighing. “Yeah. Soon.”

“How much does Kirstie need you here tonight?”

His eyes widened in surprise. “Really, not at all. I’ve given her the best antivenin we have here for a lamia bite, and the nurses can watch her overnight.”

“What do you mean, best antivenin you have here? Do you not have the best that exists?” It seemed to me that a hospital catering to shifters should have top-of-the-line remedies for shifter illnesses and poisons.

He shrugged. “It’s been a while since we’ve needed it. What we had on hand was old, probably degraded. I gave her the last of it.” He paused, glancing at me briefly, then continued. “We thought lamias were extinct. There was no need for any more. And no way to get more, as far as we knew.”

I was beginning to come up with an idea, but it was one that I really didn’t like very much at all. Still, I had to know. “Do you know how the antivenin is made?”

“Sure. All of my kind do. We develop it from the actual venom. ...” His voice trailed off.

Crap. I’d been afraid of that. “Would Kirstie benefit from a fresher dose?”

“Maybe, maybe not.” The scent of his anger had long since faded, and his eyes had lost that golden churn. Now he stared at me worriedly.

I had to know. “If there’s another lamia out there attacking people, will you need more antivenin?”

“Yes.” His expression suggested more hesitation than his clipped response indicated.

The idea of suggesting what I was about to suggest made my stomach twist. But Kirstie lay perfectly still and silent in that hospital bed, much more frail than the rambunctious little girl of just a few hours ago. That change might be my fault. Whatever had attacked her—and from all indications, it really was a lamia—had done so after my visit.

Every one of the victims in the murder case was connected to the CAP-C and Kindred Hospital.

To me, and to Kade Nevala.

If there was something I could do to fix it, I had to do it.

“Come on,” I said. “Let’s go get some venom.”

The startled look on Scott’s face when I told him I was leaving gave way to a flash of irritation when I added that Kade was taking me home. I didn’t have time for male histrionics, though, so I pretended not to see it, and Scott was adult enough to tamp down any jealousy he might have felt.

Kade led me to the Jeep in his assigned parking spot and held the door open for me. “I am sorry I interrupted your date,” he said as he slid behind the wheel.

“I might have been happier if I’d been able to finish my meal before the crisis hit, but it’s not like the timing is somehow your fault.” My stomach chose that moment to growl, and Kade’s lips quirked up in a flashing grin.

“Aren’t snakes supposed to eat once a month or something?” His sidelong glance suggested he was teasing.

“I thought you were the lamia-killing expert.”

“Emphasis on killing. We didn’t really focus on the daily habits of our prey.” His tone was light, but the words made me shiver.

“Where to?” he asked as he pulled out of the hospital parking garage.

I thought for a moment. The idea of suggesting his place made my knees quiver. It was why I had wanted to have our big conversation out in the open, someplace public enough that his scent wouldn’t overcome my will to keep him at a distance.

That same scent that filled the car now, intensifying the longer we were together, the taste of heat and spice filling my mouth and shooting straight down to my stomach. It was all I could do not to moan aloud.

Dammit. I was supposed to be thinking of a place for us to go where I could shift safely, where we could arrange for him to harvest enough venom to save at least one little girl, maybe more.

“My parents’ ranch.” The answer came to me instantly—it was, after all, the one place I always felt safe.

And it was the last place I was likely to give in to the lust Kade evoked in me.

“Your parents?” In his surprise, he jerked the wheel of the Jeep, causing it to swerve a little.

“Don’t lose it, Dr. Cool,” I said dryly. “My adoptive parents. I don’t have any idea who my biological parents were.”

“Right,” he muttered. “Of course not.”

I watched the streetlights flicker across his face as he followed my directions and merged onto the highway. “And after we do this thing, I think it’s time for you to tell me everything you know,” I said. “I need you to tell me where I came from.”

He didn’t say anything, but his jaw tightened, and he nodded. “Making antivenin isn’t easy.”

“I’m well aware of that. My father’s a herpetologist—and he arranged for antivenin against my venom a long time ago, in case I ever bit anyone.”

“Does he still have it?”

“I’m sure he must.” I pictured his workroom, the carefully labeled boxes on the top shelf that ran all along the wall, the small refrigerator in one corner, the sealed safe in another. “I have some ideas.”

“Anything we could get to soon?”

“We can go right now.”

“And we can arrange for more, as well.”

* * *

I had called ahead to let Dad know we were coming out to the herpetarium, but he and Mom had gone out for the evening. “You know how to get in,” he said. Just before I disconnected, he asked, “Is this someone we need to meet?”

“I don’t know yet,” I said, and as usual, he accepted my word.

My parents’ absence somewhat limited the psychological dampening effect on any desire I might have to shove Kade up against the wall and have my way with him—or let him have his way with me. I hadn’t realized quite how much I had been counting on that parental inhibitor until I realized I was imagining licking the doctor’s neck, pulling that taste into myself.

“Whatever you’re doing over there, please stop,” Kade said, his voice tight. With his left hand, he thumbed the control that lowered the window, letting in a rush of warm evening air. I found it surprisingly comforting that he was as obviously affected by me as I was by him.

“Sorry,” I said, lowering the window on my side and letting the wind blow through my hair. The lingering scent of Kade swirled away on the breeze, and I found it easier to think.

Whether Kade was glad, I didn’t know, but he didn’t say anything else until we had pulled up in front of the house and he followed me around to the shed in the back.

When I opened the door and flipped on the light, he rocked back on his heels. “What the hell is this place?”

“Come on in and see,” I said. The herpetarium, as familiar and calming as usual, put me at ease, and I turned to smile at Kade. That smile faded when I realized how tense he was. His light brown eyes were spinning with golden swirls, and his hands were clenched into fists beside him.

“It’s okay,” I said, trying to use the same tone Dad had always taken with me. “Remember, you’re human. That’s the part of you that’s in control.” Slowly, I reached out and took his hands into my own, drawing him into the room. “They’re just animals. They’re not a threat. You’re in charge.”

As Kade stared into my eyes, his breathing slowed to match my own. The churning in his eyes slowed, then stopped.

Finally, he relaxed.

“This is where you grew up?” he asked.

I could feel the thump of his heartbeat through his wrists where my fingers touched them, feel it slow as his breath evened out.

“Well, not in this room. I had a real kid’s room in the house, full of Barbie dolls and Tonka trucks and Hot Wheels.” I loosened my grip on him as he pulled away, my fingertips trailing across the tops of his hands. “My mother was determined not to give in to the ‘gendering of America’s children’. ” I made air-quotes with my fingers.

Kade nodded absently as he moved from tank to tank, peering in through the glass. “How many of these are poisonous?” he asked.

“To people? I never counted.” I counted off on my fingers. “The copperheads, the rattlers, the water moccasins . . . “

“You have all of those here?” Kade leaned sideways to peer into the rattler tank.

“At various times. Dad’s a scientist, but he loves the snakes, too, so he generally ends up letting them back out into the wild.”

The doctor gave me a sidelong look. “But not you.”

“Yes, he loves me, too.” My tone was dry. “But no, he never had any intention of sending me back out into the wild by myself. Not once he realized what I was.”

“Mm.” Kade continued his circuit of the room. “He catches them himself?”

“Mostly. He’s particularly interested in the effects of serpentine parthenogenesis, so recently he’s been focusing on that. He’s been setting the males free immediately.”

Kade blinked, startled. “Parthenogenesis? I didn’t know snakes could reproduce without male involvement.”

“It’s rare, but it happens.” I drifted over to Suzy’s tank and removed the lid, letting my hand slide over her. She bumped her head against my arm. “Hi, sweetie,” I said softly. “Good to see you.”

Kade finished examining the tanks and leaned back against the long, low table Dad used as a workspace. “You said there might be a stash of antivenin here?”

I moved to the tiny refrigerator where Dad kept all his supplies and pulled out a glass ampoule labeled with my name, and checked the date. “It’s still good. We have enough for one patient.” I considered for only a moment before speaking again. “We should get venom to make more to restock Kindred.”

Kade nodded. “Thanks. How do we do that?”

“Here,” I said, reaching past him into an overhead cabinet and drawing out two stoppered vials. “You’ll use these.” Bumping him out of the way with my hip, I opened a drawer and took out latex gloves, cling wrap, and rubber bands.

“Use them how?” He pulled on the gloves, then took the vials from me.

“You said you knew how the antivenin was made.”

“How it’s made, not how the venom is gathered.”

“You won’t have to do much.” Kade held out the vials one at a time while I pulled the plastic wrap tight across the top opening of each and secured it with the rubber band. “Okay. After I shift, you hold the vials out. I’ll bite them through the wrap. The venom should just flow into the tubes.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

I used my hands to indicate either side of my jaw. “There are glands roughly here, behind my head. Press down and forward along them. That should help.” I demonstrated with my thumbs.

“What if you go for me instead of the vials?”

“I thought you were some big snake-killing shapeshifter. If I go after you, then you have my permission to stop me.”

He smiled. “I’m probably immune—in the wild, a mongoose is usually resistant to the venom of the snakes it is most likely to come into contact with. Lamia venom rarely affects mongoose-shifters.”

“Are you sure I can’t hurt you?” I scowled.

“Not entirely. There are some sub-species differences.”

“Then don’t let me bite you.”

“You mean I should kill you.”

“Well, preferably not. But if I lose control and it’s you or me? Then yes. You should do whatever it takes to keep me from hurting someone.”

“You’re not at all what I expected.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes I’m not what I expected, either.” My voice was soft. “Okay. Turn around, and don’t look.”

“Why not? It’s not like I haven’t seen you shift before.”

“Yeah, but this time I’m going to strip first. It’s easier if I don’t have to fight my way out of my clothes afterwards.”

“Oh.” The single syllable was harsh, and Kade cleared his throat.

“What? Don’t you take off your clothes before you shift?”

“Yes. Of course.” Flustered, he turned his back to me.

It was probably cruel, but I took a little extra time taking off my clothes and folding them carefully, knowing that Kade was listening to every move I made. The lines of his back were stiff—and if the scents flowing off of him were anything to go by, that wasn’t the only part of him standing at attention.

There came a moment, though, when I couldn’t put off the shift any longer, and in the last grayed-out glimpse I got before the moment of terror took over and the change consumed me, I saw Kade’s body language change from the stiffness of desire to the tense, straight-backed stance of fear, only barely under control.

When I could see again, Kade stood tall above me. I lifted the upper half of my body into the air, but I kept my distance, worried that he would mistake my stance for threat. Flicking my tongue out, I pulled in air molecules, sliding them over the Jacobson’s gland on the roof of my mouth.

It was a relief to be able to analyze them directly. I could read the air so much more clearly in this form, where taste and smell combined into one. I had been right—the tart taste of Kade’s fear as he turned his back on a lamia in mid-shift still lingered around us, as did the sharp heat of his desire for my human shape. But there was something else, too, rolling off him in waves as he knelt down beside me. In my human form, I would have considered it a blue smell, my shifter senses combining to create an odd synesthesia.

I recognized this scent. I had tasted it the first time Dad had watched me shift, and every time since then.

I had tasted it in the air the first time Kade had seen me shift.

It was wonder.