Fangs and Fennel (The Venom Trilogy #2) Read online

  Twin number two crumpled to my feet, and I looked up. Two more vampires faced me from the path immediately over my head, their eyes wide.

  “She killed Bub and Bob. With spoons.”

  The other vamp shook his head. “I’m not throwing my life away, not for Santos.”

  I steeled my shoulders. “Don’t think I won’t spoon you too!” Okay, so maybe that wasn’t the toughest thing I’d ever said. But it made the point.

  They ran back up the way they’d come, scrambling so fast they sent rocks flying in their wake.

  I listened to them bicker as I stood there.

  “Tell Santos they got away. That they killed the twins and got away.”

  “Yeah, good plan.”

  I stood there, two spoons dripping with blood and a light tremor running over my body. Adrenaline and grief mixed together.

  I forced myself to pay attention and jump down the mountain after Dahlia. Maybe we were home free, but it didn’t feel like it. Not one bit.

  In fact, it felt like things were tightening around me, like the snake catcher as it closed over my leg, an image I couldn’t banish no matter how hard I tried.

  CHAPTER 11

  We took the Viking’s truck and drove as though demons chased us all the way back into town, though there was no one behind us. I drove and Dahlia sat with the silver flask clamped between her hands, her hands on the lid. My two wooden spoons lay somewhere on the side of the mountain, evidence that I was more of a killer than I’d ever thought possible.

  Dahlia kept glancing at me. She’d open her mouth as if to speak, but nothing came out. Finally, when we closed in on house number thirteen, she managed to spit out a question.

  “What happened back there? Why did they stop chasing us? They don’t give up easily.”

  I pulled over, thought better of it, and pulled back onto the road. “I don’t think we should park this in front of where we’re staying.”

  “They know where you live, Alena,” she pointed out. “And what the hell happened? Talk to me. There is no way they would have just given up.”

  I slowed the truck and backed up, the engine rumbling as I hit the throttle. We reversed so fast I ended up partly on the sidewalk, the truck half in and half out of the road. I slammed it into park and slid out of the driver’s side. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Dahlia met me at the front of the truck. “Why? Did you shift? No, you couldn’t have; you still have your clothes. What the hell happened? You’re whiter than—”

  “A bowl of flour?” I offered with a weak smile.

  She rolled her eyes. “How bad could it be? I mean, it’s not like you killed any of them.”

  I stepped back and tucked my hands into my pockets. “Yeah, it could be that bad.” I took a step and then another, moving quickly toward the house. “Come on. It’s getting close to morning.”

  Dahlia fell into step behind me. I knew she wouldn’t be upset that I’d killed them. Surprised, yes, but not upset. She didn’t understand what it meant to me to break that rule.

  Being raised to believe that killing was a mortal sin, that my soul, whatever was left of it, would be cast into utter darkness when I died . . . that prospect was not exactly comforting. Besides that, killing people was just . . . wrong. Even if I hadn’t been raised as a Firstamentalist, I would have believed it was wrong. Killing people was wrong.

  As if reading my mind, Dahlia touched my arm. “They would have killed you, and then me. I don’t know much about church stuff, but I’m sure there is something about defending your own. Isn’t there? Like looking after your family?”

  I hunched my shoulders as I stepped into the house. I listened for heartbeats and picked up two upstairs. Sandy’s by the flutter of the first, and . . . Beth’s. A sigh of relief flowed out of me. She had to have seen what Theseus was up to. That was a weight off me. I didn’t realize just how worried I’d been about them until I heard their hearts and knew they were home and safe.

  “Alena?”

  I turned to Dahlia and motioned for her to follow me. “Let’s see if we can tell what this stuff is.”

  “No, you answer my question. Isn’t there something about defending your family?”

  Why was she pushing this so hard?

  I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes, thinking about all the studying I’d done, all the reading and meditating about the teachings of the Firsts. “There is one section about it, yes. That if there is no other route, you should defend your family. But not yourself; if you are attacked, it says you should turn the other cheek.” I opened my eyes. “I was defending myself, Dahlia. They were attacking me, not you.”

  Her green eyes softened. “Alena, you are like a sister to me. And so I’m only going to say this once.” She put her hands on my shoulders and shook me gently. “Pull your head out of your ass.”

  My eyes bugged out, and she went on as if I’d agreed with her. “Those vamps were after me too. They would have killed me. They are trying to kill Remo, and even if you aren’t in love with him, I know you care about him. This is war, not just between you and whatever heroes come, but between you and the vamps now too. And maybe in some ways they are going to be even more dangerous. Because there isn’t just one. They are an army of supernaturals with no morals. No desire to make nice. That’s why they are with Santos.”

  I blinked several times. “I’m never going to be okay with . . . killing.”

  “I would worry if you were.” She touched a hand to my cheek and smiled. “You are too compassionate by far, but you are also one badass monster when you want to be. You are a hot mess of contradictions, my friend. Like a bacon-and-chocolate dessert.” She winked to soften her words.

  I couldn’t help the smile that slowly curved my lips or the laugh that followed. “Yeah, that I would agree with.”

  I was a hot mess, all right. We headed to the kitchen, and she held the flask out over the sink and unscrewed the cap. The scent of licorice flowed into the room, so strong it burned the inside of my nose. I backed up until I was at the far side of the room. “It smells like fennel,” I said.

  “Isn’t that an herb or something?”

  “Yeah, I use it sometimes in my baking.” I coughed into my arm. “Cap it up, I can hardly breathe.”

  She screwed the lid on and leaned as if to open the window, then stopped and pulled back. “Right, forgot you already permanently opened it.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I don’t understand how fennel could burn me so badly.”

  She shrugged. “Maybe it’s just the base for something else? Like a carrier?”

  I tugged at my bottom lip with my teeth, thinking. “I’d ask Ernie, but . . . I don’t want to take him from Tad right now.”

  “What about that skinny flier? Hermes?” she asked.

  My eyes widened. “Good idea. HERMES!” I hollered his name and she flinched. The two sets of heartbeats upstairs fluttered and beat faster as Beth and Sandy woke up.

  That was good; I wanted to talk to them anyway, see how things had gone with Theseus. To make things right with them both, to tell them that I was just trying to protect them.

  They thumped down the stairs in tandem and entered the kitchen side by side.

  Sandy’s dark hair was all mussed up and she cracked a big yawn. “What time is it?”

  Beth frowned up at the clock, irritation clear on her face. “Too damn early. What is all the yelling about?” That was not her usual tone or style. What if the arrow and Theseus’s claim on her were still there?

  “I need Hermes’s help,” I said. “I’ve got something here, and I’m not sure what it is exactly.”

  Beth raised one blond eyebrow. “Well, that’s not a shock. There doesn’t seem to be much you do know about.”

  Sandy sucked in a sharp breath, and Dahlia let out a growl. I shook my head and decided to go the safe route. “Beth, I know you were upset with me, but I was trying to protect you—”

  “Tim broke it off with me. Said y
ou were the reason why, that he can’t stop thinking about you,” she snapped.

  “I didn’t and wouldn’t—”

  “He said your beauty took his breath away.” Her eyes filled with tears. “He said you looked at him, and he knew you were the one for him. You texted him. I saw the text.”

  My jaw dropped. What the hell was he up to? “I never looked at him like that, Beth, and I’ve been far too busy to text anyone. He’s lying to you! You have to believe me that I’m not interested in Theseus—Tim—like that.”

  “HE ISN’T THESEUS!” Her scream coincided with Hermes winging through the window. If one could skid to a stop in the air, he did. I glanced at him; his eyes were wide and his mouth hung open.

  “Did you call for me?” he managed.

  Beth screamed, the sound crawling over my body like tiny daggers, and for just a second I thought she was going to shift. Sandy put a hand on her. “Beth, calm down. This isn’t Alena’s fault. Tim is just one of those assholes who uses one girl to get to another.”

  “It is her fault!” she cried as she spun and ran from the room. I stood there, staring at the place she’d been, my heart breaking at the thought of losing my friend. Of losing Beth to a man who would kill her as soon as kiss her.

  Sandy shook her head, glanced at me, and shrugged. “I’ll try to talk to her.”

  “Thanks,” I said softly. “I didn’t text him; he’s playing a game.”

  “I know.” She frowned, turned, and left the room. I blew a big breath out that fluttered my lips.

  “Holy snickerdoodles.”

  Hermes cleared his throat. “You have a message you want me to take?”

  Crap. Of course, that was his job, not educating me on snake oils. “Um. Yes. But first could you take a look at something?”

  His eyebrows shot up. “I don’t know much. I’m just a messenger.”

  “But you must have learned lots when you take messages. I only need to know if this is fennel.” I pointed at the flask Dahlia held up. He spun around, his wings barely moving.

  “It’s a flask,” he stated. I rolled my eyes.

  “Dahlia, crack it open for him.”

  She spun the lid and held it up for him. He peered in and nodded. “Yup, that’s fennel. Pure and distilled, by the looks of it.”

  I frowned. “Any idea why it might burn me?”

  “Oh, that’s easy.” He paused. “But why aren’t you asking Ernie?”

  “Oh, that’s easy,” I mimicked him. “I don’t trust him not to go running to Hera.”

  Hermes blinked several times as if digesting my words. “Yeah, it’s tough being caught between the gods, we all do what we have to in order to survive. You shouldn’t be so hard on him.”

  I nodded. “I’m trying, and so is he. Now, can you tell me why this is so awful for me?”

  “Prometheus’s Fire,” he said as if that explained it all. I made a motion with my hands for him to continue. He shrugged and floated to stand on the table. “Look, Prometheus hid his fire from the gods, and when he hid it, he put it in there.”

  “In the flask?” I wasn’t following.

  “No, he put it inside a fennel stalk. So if you know what you’re doing, you can distill fennel down to fine oil that will burn like a son of a Hera. Last person who made it was Hephaestus. Did it up in a crucible in his forge. It’s one of those things that is incredibly effective against monsters. It won’t hurt only you, but those two Stymphalian girls too.”

  “What about other supernaturals?”

  “Nope, just good old-fashioned Greek monsters,” he said.

  Hephaestus. I wracked my brain, coming up with a blank. “Please, what does Hephaestus do again?”

  Hermes groaned. “This is why I don’t like answering questions. Can I just take your message, please?”

  He had a point. The rest I could find out on my own; I was just being lazy. “Sure. Go to Remo, tell him . . .” What the fricky dicky was I going to tell him?

  Dahlia helped out. “Go tell Tad to come back. We need to talk to him.”

  Tad, damn, I’d not even thought of my brother. My first instinct had been for someone to get Remo to come see me. For the comfort of his presence, as well as his insight into the situation. Hermes was gone in a shot faster even than usual. No doubt he was worried we were going to pepper him with questions if he stayed a minute longer.

  I paced the kitchen, my thoughts rolling. This was a moment where I could use Ernie’s help, and the best way to get the cherub to show up without asking him was to bake something.

  I waffled back and forth until finally giving in. I scrubbed my hands and arms clean of the last splatters of vampire blood before I turned the oven on. Next I pulled out a bowl, set it on the counter, and ransacked the kitchen for the ingredients I wanted for a batch of muffins. Flour, sugar, oil, chopped walnuts, pumpkin seeds, and chunks of chocolate, along with the usual suspects to keep the treat from falling. A pinch of salt to set it all off.

  “You know, I’m surprised you weren’t five hundred pounds when you were human.” Dahlia leaned in and poked a finger at the batter. I slapped her hand away.

  “I didn’t eat everything in sight. I just taste tested, that’s the trick.” I spooned the batter into muffin tins, then made a quick sugar crumble that I put on top of each one. I slid the pan into the hot oven and set the timer.

  Within minutes the smell of the muffins filled the air and dispelled the last of the licorice scent.

  A flutter of wings turned me around. Ernie beamed down at me. “I thought I smelled muffins. How long?”

  I sat down in one of the kitchen chairs and leaned back. “A few minutes. Long enough for you to tell me about Hephaestus.”

  Ernie plopped himself on the table, his chubby cheeks puckering. “What has Happy got to do with anything?”

  “Happy?” I blinked at him.

  Ernie shrugged. “Hephaestus is a mouthful, and I’ve been saying it for a long time. Besides, calling him Happy irritates him. Which is amusing once you get him all worked up. He’s kind of a grumpy bastard.” Ernie winked, and I shook my head, unable to smile back after everything that the night had held for me.

  “Tell me about him,” I said. “I really want to know.”

  Ernie shrugged again as though he really didn’t care. I didn’t buy his act for a second. “Okay, but he has no part in what Hera is up to.”

  “Tell me anyway.”

  “Well, he rules the forge, making weapons and dealing with fire. I mean, he rarely comes out of his blacksmith shop, to be honest. He doesn’t deal in the politics like others do. Really.” He sniffed the air. “The muffins are almost ready.”

  I ran my tongue along the roof of my mouth, against one fang. I felt like I was missing something, like that one ingredient that would turn a flopped recipe into a bestseller.

  “Nothing else about him?”

  Ernie shook his head. “He’s married to Aphrodite, but that’s been a rocky marriage from the beginning. I don’t think they’ve had sex for a hundred years or more.”

  “Goddess of love?”

  “And sex. She’s really my main supervisor.”

  Now that was interesting. Ernie slowly took his eyes from the oven and lifted them to mine. “What?”

  “Aphrodite is your supervisor. You’re working for Hera.”

  If I recalled, Hera was a jealous bitch. Like seeing the ingredients of a recipe come together, I slowly grasped the truth. “If that’s true, then those two Greek goddesses could be working together. Does Hephaestus make your arrows?”

  Ernie nodded, a light going off in his head. “And Aphrodite imbues them with power . . . oh my gods. Theseus and the arrow. I knew I didn’t misplace any of mine!”

  I glanced at Dahlia, who nodded her agreement.

  “What do you want to bet Aphrodite convinced her hubby to help? Maybe for a quick roll in the hay?” Dahlia asked as she lifted an eyebrow at me. I nodded.

  Ernie flew so he was between Dahl
ia and I. “Wait, this is more than the arrow, isn’t it? What are you two referring to?”

  Dahlia pulled the flask from behind her. “Oil of fennel. Prometheus’s Fire. Snake oil, burns through Drakaina skin and can kill monsters. Ring a bell, Ernie?”

  His shoulder’s drooped and he fluttered to the floor, something I’d never seen him do. “Damn, I was hoping she was just spouting off.”

  “Who?” I demanded.

  “Aphrodite. I think . . . I think you’ve pissed her off too.”

  Oh, well, wasn’t that just a bucket and a half of rotten peaches.

  CHAPTER 12

  “What could I have possibly done to upset Aphrodite?” The question burst out of me at the same time the oven timer dinged. I moved on autopilot and pulled the muffins out, dumping them upside down on the cooling rack with a thump. Ernie grimaced and held a hand out like I’d kicked a puppy. I grabbed a muffin and tossed it to him.

  He grinned and gave me a wink. Tossing the muffin back and forth between his hands to cool it, he answered me. “The thing is, she’s kinda jealous. Achilles, despite his rather wounded ego, has been talking you up. ‘Beautiful Monster’ is what he’s been calling you. I walked in on her ranting about making sure people knew who the real beauties were in the world, not some Drakaina that just showed up out of nowhere.”

  “Beautiful Monster. Sounds like one of those cheesy new romance novels,” Dahlia muttered. I shushed her.

  “But . . . Achilles hates me,” I said.

  “Yeah, but you totally flipped his switch. Achilles loves a strong woman.” Ernie grinned as he took a bite of muffin. “You’re breaking hearts everywhere you go, Beautiful Monster.”

  I groaned and shook my head. “Beth thinks I turned Theseus away from her, that he’s in love with me too.”

  Ernie stopped chewing. “What?” Bits of muffin flew out of his mouth, landing on my lap. I flicked them off.

  “Long story. Look, can you just tell your boss I’m really not doing this? That I just want to be left alone?”

  He chewed thoughtfully on his muffin for a moment. “She won’t believe me.”

  I blew out a puff of air. “Some help you are.”