Archangel's Viper

14

“You reacted to Daisy as if she was simply another abused vampire—that could get you killed.” Granite in his expression. “You need to watch the reactions of any vampires you come into contact with, weigh those reactions against what you know to be normal.”

He swung the car to the left, heading in the direction of the bridge. “You have to be conscious a vampire might be high off a honey feed, or on some new designer drug. All of the latter eventually end in bloodshed. Umber caused a voracious blood hunger that led users to murder and brutalize the people closest to them.”

Holly released a quiet breath, her hands flexing. “Okay, you’re right,” she said, and the world didn’t end. “I’ll be more careful. I just . . . I felt sorry for her.” She wanted to kick herself as soon as the words were out—what the hell was she doing exposing her vulnerable underbelly to Venom of all people?

“I know.” No judgment in his tone. “Why do you think I gave her my jacket? My tailor will be appalled when I ask for a replacement and tell him why I need it.”

Holly rolled her eyes, but her lips wanted to tug up. “Why do drugs have such a dangerous effect on vampires?”

Venom’s shrug was liquid. “Vampire physiology is complex and it’s delicately balanced. Honey feeds work because our bodies are designed to filter the blood we intake—it just so happens that some of the drug isn’t filtered out and creates the high. But that high isn’t enough to upset the balance of the vampiric system.”

Holly thought of Zeph, of the emotional pain he tried to drown in blissed-out oblivion. “People try the designer stuff even knowing it could be deadly because they want a longer high.”

Venom gave a curt nod as his car prowled smoothly along the bridge, the lights of the other cars passing by in a rain-smudged blur. She had no idea what speed he was going except that it was fast. She liked it. “Are we going to find the asshole, Kenasha?”

“Yes. Marlin Tucker and our other target can wait—call Janvier and ask if some of his and Ashwini’s snitches can keep an eye on Tucker’s apartment as well as that of the third fraudster in the interim.”

Holly made the call, got Janvier’s agreement.

That done, she settled back in her seat and watched the world speed by. There weren’t many people she’d trust to drive this fast on rain-slick streets and keep the car under control, but Venom’s reflexes were even quicker than her own—and she was inhumanly fast.

Her skin chilled as the thought whispered through her mind, the strange thing inside her, the thing that wasn’t in any way human, feeling as if it was salivating and readying itself for a rampage. She fisted her hands, took a deep breath, exhaled. And still, the thing spread itself inside her. It was as if she had a pair of huge wings trapped inside that wanted to tear out of her flesh.

God, she was going batshit insane.

That was why she hadn’t told anyone what was happening when the whispers began. She still remembered the first time—it had been as Raphael fought Lijuan in the skies above Manhattan. Holly had wanted to volunteer to help in some way, but her control had still been erratic at that time, too erratic for anyone to trust her in the field.

So she’d watched the battle from a distance and she’d heard a whisper from deep within: I can kill them both.

The sheer madness of believing she could kill two archangels had staggered Holly. But that had just been the first sign of crazy from her psycho mind. She’d gritted her teeth and ridden it out each time it happened, and hoped it was the last time. But the mad, whispering voice—and the accompanying sensations—were getting stronger, not weaker.

“Kitty, you’re growling.” It was a relaxed comment.

Holly swallowed the feral sound with jaw-clenched will. “Damn it. Sorry.”

A shrug. “Doesn’t bother me—I told you, use what lives in you instead of fighting it.”

Holly parted her lips, almost told him that she wasn’t sure what lived in her should ever be allowed out into the light of day. Snapping her mouth shut before the words could escape, she turned to look out the window again as they hit the Angel Enclave. She might’ve had a death wish once but she’d gotten over that. Her parents didn’t deserve to have their hearts broken by having to bury Holly because the Tower had decided she was too dangerous to be permitted to live.

Unable to see clearly because of the rain-fogged glass, she rolled down her window to the cool air. Fine droplets of rain settled on the skin of her face in a welcome burst of freshness. The world was even darker outside, the Angel Enclave a place of tall gates amid taller trees and heavy foliage. The homes beyond were far distant, at the end of long drives. The most exclusive perched on the cliffs that looked out over the Hudson to the glittering spectacle of Manhattan.

The only Enclave home in which Holly had ever been was Ash and Janvier’s.

Elena had invited her to drop by for a visit, but Holly preferred to stay out of Raphael’s view. She had the uneasy feeling the Archangel of New York would see through her to the madness that whispered egotistical, horrific, and frankly insane thoughts at unpredictable moments.

“What’s Raphael and Elena’s house like?” she asked, her curiosity trumping even her horror at what she was becoming.

“A home,” was Venom’s simple answer.

Odd as it was, she understood. To her, Raphael might be the deadly Archangel of New York, a being whose notice she never wanted to attract, but to Elena, he was the man she loved, and to Venom, he was the archangel Venom chose to serve. An archangel who’d protected the city with his own life and who Elena said had honor stamped in his soul. “Could you get a place along here if you wanted?”

“The land is tightly held.” Venom took a curve with smooth grace, though their speed was deadly. “I prefer the city in any case. It’s too quiet in the Enclave. Who needs all this green and peace? I’d rather listen to cabdrivers yelling at one another while the smell of hot dogs and pretzels makes me wish I could turn human for fifteen minutes.”

Holly found herself surprised into laughter. “That’s what I think, too. About it being too quiet.” The homes were undeniably beautiful, with stellar views, but she’d rather be in the chaotic busyness of the city.

Venom turned right, heading away from the exclusive cliff-front real estate and deeper into the Enclave.

“The incompetent Kenasha’s not top tier?” As Venom had so bluntly stated, there was a hierarchy. At the top were the archangels, then angels like Illium and Aodhan, who were powers in their own right.

“The waste of angelic space is four thousand years old,” Venom told her. “I could take him without breaking a sweat—give you a few more years and I’d put my money on you rather than him.” A short pause. “Scratch that, kitty. You could take him right now.”

Holly blinked at that harsh assessment. “He’s that weak?”

“He keeps himself that weak. Even if he never developed an innate power, he could’ve built himself up physically over time to become a formidable warrior like many of those in the Tower squadrons.”

Thinking of the squadron members she’d run into, Holly nodded. Many of them did pulse with inborn power that pushed against her senses, but not all. Some were simply strong and fast and dangerous.

“Angels,” Venom added, “have an incredible physical advantage in how quickly they heal and how strong their musculature can become with far less effort than required by vampires or mortals who want to achieve the same aim. But Kenasha prefers to sit on his ass and live off the money his parents accumulated. Raphael once said he thinks they went into Sleep out of embarrassment.”

“Huh.” Holly chewed on that. “Somehow, I didn’t think angels could have deadbeat sons.” It defied logic that a being of that age could have wasted his entire life. “Shouldn’t he have achieved something out of sheer boredom?”

“You would think so, but he is a parasite who sucks at his parents’ teat.” Venom’s lip curled. “He’s a disgrace. A son is meant to care for his family.”

Holly usually forgot Venom’s age, he was so urbane and now, and then he’d say something like that. But of course, it wasn’t only a case of age but the deep impact of a culture where elders often lived with the younger generation. Like Rania, the girl who’d been Holly’s friend since fourth grade, Venom had been born in India.

“Not just a son,” she said, an ache of loss and memory thickening her throat. “My siblings and I will be taking care of our parents when they’re older and can’t live alone anymore.” The idea of caring for the elders in the family was as ingrained in her as it apparently was in Venom. “My paternal grandfather and grandmother used to live with us until they passed.”

“You’ve made up with your family?”

Holly nodded. “My mother lays a guilt trip on me every so often, though.” She folded her arms and imitated Daphne Chang’s scowl. “‘Do you know how we felt? Do you, Holly? We raised you to know you were loved, that you could come to us with anything. And what do you do the first time you have a small problem but turn your back on your family! For shame!’”

Venom’s shoulders shook. “A small problem?”

“Oh, shut up.” But she was laughing, too. “That’s how she always puts it. As if waking up needing to drink blood to survive is the same as being fired from a job or having a car battery die.” Laughter turned into a smile. “She’s going to be mad at me forever, but she’ll love me while she’s mad at me.”

Venom was quiet for a long time as they drove along the rain-dark streets of the Enclave, no other vehicles passing them. If angels flew overhead, she couldn’t tell in this weather.

“You’re lucky, kitty,” he said at last. “Cherish the family you have for as long as you have them. Hold them tight as Janvier does his.”

Surrounded by the quietly falling rain, a hushed privacy between them, Holly felt the barriers melting away. “What happened to your family?” she asked softly.

She didn’t think he’d answer, as he hadn’t answered before, but he said, “A vampire son is one thing, but one with the eyes of a viper?” A shake of his head.

Rage crashed through her in a violent wave. “You did it for them, didn’t you?” she said. “Signed up for a Contract.”

Already turning into the drive of an angelic home, Venom didn’t answer, but Holly didn’t need one. She knew. A son who’d been brought up to look after his parents and other family members would do anything to give them a good life. Even barter his own.

That they’d abandoned and rejected him at such an incredibly vulnerable time because the cost of his sacrifice wasn’t what they’d expected? Holly wanted to tear their disloyal forms limb from limb. Too bad they were all already long dead.

She was still furious when they rounded a corner of the drive, and . . .

Her mouth fell open, her eyes taking in the monstrosity ahead. The rain had helpfully paused, as if the heavens wanted her to get the full picture. “So . . . you think Kenasha likes turrets?” The place was an atrocity of turrets and curlicues and God knows what else. She just knew it looked like the eighteenth century had thrown up on the seventeenth. Or was it the sixteenth?

Architectural history wasn’t her strong point. But one thing she knew—the building in front of them would stick out like a mutant sore thumb in any century in which you dropped it.

“The last time I saw this place,” Venom said after bringing the car to a halt, “it only had nineteen turrets.” He pointed to the right. “That one’s new.”

Holly squinted to see what made this turret such a must-have. It was skinny, with four round windows that didn’t match any other part of the house. “He has a turret-at-sea fantasy?”

“Let’s ask him.” Venom held out his hand. “I’ll need my sunglasses for this one. Kenasha fears what lies beyond them.”

That, Holly understood and accepted. So she handed over the sunglasses—but not before saying, “They come back off the instant we’re in the car again.”

Viper green eyes, slitted and unearthly, held hers. “Agreed.”

Even as he spoke, Venom was wondering once again why it mattered so much to Holly that he not wear his sunglasses around her. Most people preferred he keep his eyes covered up—the only exceptions were those who’d known him for centuries and who considered him a friend. None of the Seven, nor Raphael, seemed to care that his eyes were different than theirs. The same for friends such as Janvier and Trace.

In the Refuge, Jessamy had banned him from screening his gaze when the two of them were speaking. “I want to see your eyes,” she’d said when he’d asked why. “Just like I like to see Galen’s eyes, and the eyes of anyone else with whom I’m talking.”

Venom didn’t know why when his eyes weren’t readable like human eyes. He’d even stared at his own eyes in the mirror and tried to see if they reflected his emotions. As far as he could tell, they were as unreadable as the eyes of the vipers who had a part in his Making. The odd thing was that Neha hadn’t meant to torture him—she’d liked him, had actually asked him to consider being Made well before he’d ever thought of taking that road.

“I have a strong feeling I’m going to attack Kenasha.” Meeting him in front of his car with those words, Holly scowled up at the turret house. “I’ll fang him if you don’t keep him away from me.”

“You’ll hurt him if you do.” Venom slipped on his sunglasses. “Despite his age, he’s weak enough that my venom would kill him.”

Dmitri would probably rip him a new one for sharing so much information with Holly, but it was time people stopped babying her and gave her what she needed to survive in their world. She wasn’t a normal vampire and they couldn’t treat her like one. And should Holly betray them, Venom would hunt her down himself. He had a feeling he was the only one who could—she was moving far differently than she had when he left the city two years earlier, a predatory confidence to her that he didn’t think she realized.

“Oh, that’s interesting.” Holly looked up on that considering statement . . . and smiled, showing off those tiny fangs that were ridiculous and that fascinated him. “That means my venom should make him writhe about in pain for a while.” Her eyes glinted a glowing film of green. “Let’s go.”

His own predator nature uncurled deep in his gut, called to the surface by her deadly, beautiful otherness. “You don’t act without my go-ahead,” he said, regardless of the cold part of him that was in total agreement with her dark intent. “This is Tower business. If Kenasha has earned a punishment from Raphael, then Raphael is the only one who will deliver it.”

“I’m not suicidal, Viper Face. I’m not going to step on an archangel’s toes.” A shiver. “But if Mr. Turret hasn’t done anything that requires Raphael’s attention, then can I bite him?”

Venom smiled despite himself. “We’ll see, kitty.”

Growling deep inside her chest, Holly stalked beside him as they headed to the front door. It was already open, being held that way by a tall and skinny vampire with ghost white skin and pitch-black hair. “Sir.” He bowed so deeply he almost bent his skinny body in half.

Montgomery could teach this one a few things, Venom thought. Raphael’s butler was in a class of his own. “We’re here to see your master.”

Still bent over, the vampiric butler said, “Master Kenasha regrets to inform you that he’s not taking guests at present.”

“How unfortunate for him.” Venom turned his voice to the silken menace that always got a result.

Pulse thudding hard in his neck as he rose to his full height, the butler swallowed. “Perhaps you’d like to leave a card?”

“Perhaps you’d like to tell your master to meet us in two minutes or we’ll be leaving here with his head and no other part of him.”

Going paler, if that was even possible, the butler said, “Of course, sir. Please wait in the living area.” He waved to their right.