Poison Kissed (27 page)

30

In the bedroom, Joey rakes shuddering claws in the fabric until he hears the door slam. And then, with an irresistible thrash of aching muscle, he shifts.

Too fast. Too hard. It hurts, his snakeflesh swelled tight with the delicious memory of her touch. The faint fragrant salt of her sweat burns his changing skin. His spine drags long and tight, tendons squealing with effort, and he writhes, ripping out his frustration. Blood and venom splash the walls. Fabric rips, his furious spines catching on silk and velvet, the blind destruction of an angry beast. Viciously he thrashes his tail, snakes onto the floor, and whiplashes in fury, and somewhere glass smashes, a lamp or a window. He doesn’t feel it. All he can feel is her, not here. Gone. Lost.

Desperate frustration hisses in his long throat. He couldn’t do it. Couldn’t bear her revulsion. Couldn’t get it into his stupid thick head that maybe she really didn’t care.

Sure. She thinks that now. Wait until she realizes she’s opened her body to a scaly black monster.

Venom swells his mouth tight and angry, desperate for release, worse than any pent-up orgasm. He coils, and strikes like black lightning at the wall. Fangs crush and spurt. Venom splashes, and relief washes through him like horrid pleasure, a nasty parody of loving her. He strikes again, and again, until his jaw aches and the wall’s a sodden mess of torn plaster. His muscles shudder and spend themselves.

He thrashes onto his back, spines crushing in the carpet, and shifts back, panting.

Colors flash to life and sting his eyes wet. His human body aches, his limbs sore and flushed with weakness. Broken glass prickles his back. His gums sting. He crawls to his knees, coughing bloody green clots onto the carpet.

The stain soaks in. Nice. Whoever lives here is gonna be so confused.

A smile twists, but no humor softens his thoughts. Nothing about this fucking creature is funny anymore.

He stretches, crunching the last few muscles back into place. Venom and sweat coat his hair, his skin, his fingers, still the faint sweet tingle of jasmine.

Fuck it if he can’t still smell her. He’ll never stop smelling her, feeling her, tasting her rich female skin, the way her flesh trembled and swelled under his touch.

If she were here, would he apologize? Try to make it up to her? Say,
“It’s not you, it’s me?”

Wetness chokes him, a real laugh this time. Jesus. If she were still here, he’d do whatever the fuck it took.

But the mistake’s made. She’s gone. What’s he gonna do, chase after her? Beg her to forgive him? Tell her he loves her?

Fuck yes.

He drags himself up and walks to the wardrobe on unsteady legs. He needs another shower. He doesn’t care. Slide the door open, fumble through a crush of hanging clothing, find something he can wear. He grabs a black shirt, some jeans, a pair of random boots. Whatever.

Urgency itches his blood as he dresses. Go after her. Make sure she’s safe. For all he knows, Diamond is still alive. Iridium could be stalking them both. And as for Ivy . . .

He nearly trips, darting into the bathroom. His phone sits lifeless in a reddish puddle. Might still be okay. No time to think. He scoops it up and stalks out the door, raking tense hands through his hair to shake out the worst of the mess. Wasted venom tingles and smears on his palms, a snide accusation.

She’s left the front door open in her haste. Morning light hurts his eyes, glaring golden in the heat like hellish sunrise. He scans the street, lines of parked cars, weeping eucalypts on crisp green grass. She’s not there.

His fingers twitch for the safety of his lost cane. He sniffs, testing the air, letting his tongue flicker and fill in the sensory picture in four dimensions. Pollen, dust, the fresh tar of warming asphalt. Across the road, a tart oilsplash from a passing car, the fumes bright and green, only a few minutes old. Skin and sweat, distant echoes from hours ago. Last night’s cat piss, a sour splash on the lawn. And there, below, the fleshy taste of fresh blood.

He squats. Clots spatter the pavement, old and dry, but here’s a new spot, scarlet in the dust. She’s gone this way. His bones shudder, hungry, and he can’t help but slide his finger through the stain, sniff it, bring it to his lips. Her delicate taste sparkles his mouth, and sweet lightness lifts his heart. Goddamn it.

He switches his wet phone on as he walks. It flickers and lights. She hasn’t called. A text message pops up from Vincent. Then another one. He doesn’t read them. No time for Vincent. For any of it, except her.

Morning shadows ooze pale beneath cars and lamp posts. The stink of car exhaust grows stronger. Already, the heat dries his hair sticky and foul, plastering hot clumps to his cheek. A skinny girl pushing a pram eyes him doubtfully, and circles around him as far as the gutter will allow. He flicks her a sharp smile.
Chill, lady. It’s rats, not babies.

On the pavement ahead, he spies a shinyblack shape, and his heart tilts. He scrambles to his knees to cradle it, and her poisonflower fragrance hits him full in the face.

Her boot.

Boots, in fact.

Both of them, abandoned in a narrow alley between two back fences. Leather drying crisp in the sun. He remembers sliding them off her pretty feet, her long smooth muscle at last revealed, her ankle’s sweet curve watering his mouth. He never got to kiss her there. Not enough, anyway.

His pulse swells, threatening to drown him, and grimly he keeps it down. Unlikely she left them on purpose. More likely, she got no warning. Swiftly he scans the ground, the walls, smelling and tasting, hunting with sharp serpent senses. Dust, ancient rain, insects’ sharp acidburn. No glass. No blood. Nothing to show who took her. Only jasmine, and the lingering sharp scent of her sorrow.

Fuck.

Fear for her life wrenches his spine into serpentine shapes, and his old self-preservation instinct kicks in, cautious chemicals leaching into his blood. It’s daylight. He can’t shift here. His glamour is weak, a flickering faeborn disease he can’t control. Someone might see.

It’s still early morning, the summerlit street deserted. No one’s around. Surely it’s safe. He crouches in full sun, slides his cheek onto rough concrete, and shifts.

Just a little. Just enough to liberate his senses, let his sinuses stretch. The sun shines gloriously warm, the ground crunching so rough and wonderful under his smooth scales. Vibrations shiver his elongated neck, the lost echo of footsteps and wingbreeze and a stifled yell, roughened by sorrow and cracked melody. He inhales a heated mouthful, and his forked tongue sizzles on that familiar, loathsome taste.

Certainty ignites crimson fury along his nerves, and his human hands crunch tight on loose gravel. He knows where Mina is, and who has her.

And in the jagged haze of his overwrought senses, he doesn’t sense the footstep behind him until it’s too late.

“What the fuck you doing, freak?” The voice rips like claws along Joey’s bones, and a boot slams into his throat.

Joey flexes, and strikes for Vincent’s mouth.

Fangs clash, a brutal kiss. His gums rip, venom and virusrich blood splashing like hot honey in his mouth. The impact jolts his spine alive. He’s clumsy, while he’s still got limbs, but it’s enough to make the fucker back off.

Vincent lurches backwards with a curse-ridden snarl.

Joey whirls and snapshifts back, his hair crackling with static in sudden freedom. He backs off along the wall, his human skin burning with acid and snakeshiver, and crude urgency pumps brittle cold blood into his heart. Mina could be dying already. “No time for your shit, kid. Go kill yourself a schoolgirl, or something.”

And he turns away.

Vincent grabs his shoulder and flings him back around. His dark hair shimmers with sweat. Blood drips from his lips, staining his jeans, washing the venom away. “Don’t walk away from me.”

“Not very original.” Joey crunches out warning claws, venombright. He can’t poison a vampire. But Vincent might not know that. Already, his serpent mind snaps awake, measuring strength, testing reflexes, weighing up moves.

Sun in his eyes. Should turn the fight around. Breeze on his face, an advantage for smell and taste.

Rust twinges his palate, and his gaze snaps over Vincent’s shoulder. Iridium, grinning at him with that mad razortoothed smile. Crazy metal-ass fuck.

Vincent’s chocolate eyes glint, but there’s no fever, no virusmad confusion. Just hatred. “It’s time we finished this.”

Joey should feel elated, confident, darkly excited. All he feels is frustration, and fear for her. “I don’t have fucking time f—”

“You want this family? Fight me for it.”

And there they are. The goddamn magic words.

Joey’s mind somersaults. Kill Vincent. Own the family once and for all. Delilah won’t care, so long as she can taunt Kane. And Iridium’s a follower, the gang scene just an outlet for his twisted urges. If Joey can kill Vincent, Iridium will fall into line. The rest of them are nothing. Winner takes all.

He waits for ice to burn cold in his blood, the ever-reliable instinct for survival and victory that’s kept him alive through years of threats and gangfighting and mutinous fairy minions. Sometimes, killing is the only way.

But a rational whisper stings, blocking out the black killing rage he’s come to rely on.
Even a two-day-old vampire is close to unkillable. It won’t be a quick fight. Precious minutes that Mina doesn’t have, not with a vengeful fairy headcase sucking out her life force. If you stay here, she’ll die.

Vincent gives a fangsharp grin. “What’s the matter? Mina screw your brains out at last?”

Anger spikes, and his fangs snap tight. He knows Vincent is provoking him. Doesn’t make it any easier not to slash his face off. “Don’t dirty her name in your fangslut mouth.”

“She feel good? Fuck, yeah. I bet she did. I bet she’s got a cunt like a hot velvet glove.” Vincent’s crafty eyes narrow, and his smile twists nastily. “ ’Course, I’ll have to fuck her once I kill you. Clean her out. Get rid of your feral stink, y’know. Makes the blood taste like crap.” He cocks an eyebrow over his shoulder. “Whaddaya say, Iridium? Might take a few times until she’s ripe. Think she’ll mind?”

“Shouldn’t think so.” Iridium picks at his claws with a wicked razorblade. “Not with the proper persuasion.”

Icy shards rip Joey’s blood cold. Inside him, snakeflesh writhes and aches, screeching at him to let it burst out and rip that filthy tongue from Vincent’s throat. His fangs stretch and swell so hard, it hurts, chewing at his gums to strike, slash into Vincent’s sneering face and stab the sick little shit so full of venom, his eyeballs pop green. Drag that razor across Iridium’s skinny throat and watch the blood spurt.

But he hesitates. Mina’s life is worth more than his jealousy. If she lives through this, she can screw whoever the fuck she wants and he’ll be grateful.

His claws quiver cold. Well, maybe not whoever. He draws the line at metalfae psychos and scumsucking vampire assholes who can’t find their own fangs with two hands and a toothbrush. The thought spikes hot human jealousy hard into his balls, and his skin itches for a fight.

“Save it, shitworm,” he spits, rainbow green in the flashing sun. “She’s in danger. If we do this now, she’ll d—”

“Shut the fuck up.” Vincent snarls, and steps closer, his hot vampire eyes glowing scarlet. “Don’t use your bitch as an excuse. You scared, that it?”

Vincent’s coarse challenge jabs into Joey’s blood like icy needles, and spines spring harder along his back, ripping his stolen shirt open. His thoughts tumble. This is insane. Already she’s bleeding in his mind, pleading with him to help her while her last drop of life splashes out on cold stone.

But is her life worth more than the family? More than safety, the cool sense of security that comes with power, the soothing knowledge that no one will stab you in the back tonight because the sniveling fuckers just won’t dare?

If he runs from this fight, he’ll never be safe again. She’ll never be safe.

Vincent licks hungry teeth. “Thought as much. Fucking coward. Last chance. You or me. Now or never.”

And Joey knows what he must do.

Hot contentment floods his sinuses, and he flexes shifting hands in a shock of delicious snakenerve. The words boil up in his hissing throat, and nothing he’s ever said has felt so right.

Crazy laughter bursts strange berries in his mouth, and he jolts Vincent still with the full force of his eerie smile. “You know what? Take it all. I don’t give a shit.”

And with a hot snap of eager flesh, he shifts.

Vincent curses and stumbles, but too late. Joey hits the sunwarmed pavement, roughness delicious under his smooth black skin, and slithers away.

Snake over grass and gravel, pollen and dust and sweet vibration slicking his body tight with excitement. Sun burns, blinding monochrome, colors faded dim but sharp in his cold serpent eyes. Vincent’s voice is crisp, thrown into high definition by the delicate mesh of touch and sensation, and the jagged scythe of Iridium’s rusted wings through the air sends bright shivers along Joey’s nerve-ripe spine.

Flash into the gutter, spines rippling, where leaves crackle under his belly on the stained concrete. The vibration of Vincent’s steps soaks into his body like a threat matrix, directional, quantitative. Sniff, taste, slice the air with tongue and ultra-sensitive fins. Water’s echo fills his sinuses, liquid trickling across rock somewhere far beneath, and he dives unerringly for the uncovered drain without having to rely on vision.

Slither down into warm thick darkness, bricks scraping. Splash into smooth cool water, his fins shivering in the freshness. His nightbright senses flash with shapes, edges, the soft glitter of trickling fluid. His mouth stings brilliant with dirt and tasty refuse. Yes.

Satisfaction slides thick and black into his cold snakeblood. Let Vincent and Diamond and Iridium kill each other. He doesn’t care. Somewhere down here, he’ll find her. A chink, a crack, some narrow rock-scraping entrance to the railway tunnel, and he’ll find her.

And if Ivy’s so much as chipped his deathpretty princess’s sweet blue nails, he’ll sink venomswelled fangs into her skinny fairy throat until she stops wriggling, and swallow her whole.