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

  Tentatively, she reached out and put her arms around me, giving me a hug. Stunned, I stood there for a second before carefully hugging her back.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  I stepped away and headed over to the gate where the werewolf sat panting. He was all black with big golden eyes. But unlike the other werewolves I’d seen, he was neither human nor wolf, but stuck somewhere in between. Like he’d forgotten how to complete his shift.

  “Aren’t you going home?”

  “Waiting for home,” he said, which made no sense. How could he be waiting for home to come to him?

  “Do you have a name, while you wait for home?”

  “Alex.” He winked a big golden eye at me, like his name should mean something.

  “Well”—I patted him on the head—“don’t go beyond the Wall, Alex. It’s not safe for you. Understand?”

  He bobbed his head once and gave me another wink. “Pretty lady need help?”

  “No, I don’t.” I laughed at him, and he shrugged and lay down at the inside of the Wall, like he really was waiting for something. Maybe his master? Silently I wished him luck in that. As long as he didn’t go chasing the humans again—even if he was just playing—all would be well for him. Or as well as it could be in this world of ours.

  Another half an hour walk, and I was back at house number thirteen. Inside I could hear laughter and the dual heartbeats of Sandy and Beth. They were Greek monsters too, though a different flavor than me. Stymphalian birds were their designation, and they could shift into the deadly man-eating beasts the same as I could shift into my Drakaina form.

  “Hey, girls.” I padded through the house and into the kitchen. My eyes stretched wide as I took in the scene, blood everywhere. “Are you okay?”

  They looked at each other and laughed, clutching at their bellies as they giggled. While that eased my mind a little, it wasn’t until I drew a breath in and tasted the air that I relaxed. The scent was sweet and fruity. Cherries was my guess, not blood.

  And then I looked again and slowly shook my head as I picked up one of my pots, the interior covered in dried cherry juice. “Did you pull every pot, pan, and kitchen utensil out of the cupboards?”

  Beth laughed up at me and brushed her short blond hair out of her face. “We couldn’t find what we were looking for. Don’t worry, we’ll clean up . . . Mom.” She winked, and I rolled my eyes.

  “What are you making? Or maybe what are you trying to make?” I couldn’t help being pulled into the kitchen, even if it was a complete disaster.

  Sandy grinned at me. “We found your ‘French Desserts’ section in your recipe book. This is clafoutis, cherry flavored.”

  I smiled and peeked into the mix. I dipped a finger in and tasted it. “You need a bit more sugar; it’ll be too tart.”

  “You got it. Mom.”

  “Really, you gotta stop that.” I laughed at them. “I don’t think I’m even older than either of you.” In fact, I knew Beth had a year on me, and Sandy was born the same year as I was.

  Sandy grinned as she spooned some more sugar into the mixture. “You kinda are, though. You saved us from Merlin, and you’ve been helping us adjust. You’re even teaching us to bake. You look out for us, like a mom would. And . . . we know it irritates you when we tease you.”

  Beth took the bowl from Sandy and poured its contents into a pan that had cherries scattered about the bottom. “Speaking of teasing”—she raised an eyebrow at me—“what’s with the nun habit?”

  I pulled a chair out and slid into it. Pushing a few pans out of the way, I rested both hands on the table. “Bad day at the courthouse. I think I lost everything to that . .”

  “Asshat?” Beth offered.

  “Twat waffle?” Sandy suggested.

  “Oh, I like twat waffle.” I took a breath and started again. “That twat waffle . . . the judge says he’s getting everything.”

  They gasped and hurried over to me, covered in cherry juice and flour.

  They wrapped me in their arms, murmuring their condolences, telling me it was so wrong, and while I knew it . . . that I had them on my side meant the world to me. I leaned into them, tears trickling down my cheeks. “I don’t know what I would do without you two.”

  “We feel the same,” Beth whispered, and kissed the top of my head.

  “Now you’re being a mom.” I wiped my face.

  She pulled back and shook her head. “Fine, we all take care of each other, that’s how it goes.”

  “On that note”—Sandy let go of me and pointed at my robes—“you should go change. That thing is totally unflattering, and now it’s covered in cherry juice.”

  I had to agree with her; the robe was awful and still smelled of Old Spice. I hurried upstairs and slipped out of it, tossing it into the corner of my room. I put the deed to the bakery on my side dresser, then went to the bathroom and grabbed a wet cloth. I wiped my face and neck, which got the worst of the cologne off me, then tied my hair back into a loose ponytail. I pulled on jeans and a comfy top, then headed back downstairs. Baking the night away would take my mind off the craptastic day, and baking with two of my closest friends was even better.

  Back in the kitchen, I pulled out my favorite cookbook. “Here, I’ll show you a few things, tricks of the trade, so to speak.”

  We started on a recipe for filled cookies. With an exterior similar to a sugar cookie, they could be filled with any number of things: strawberry jam, raisins, peanut butter, and pretty much anything else you might think of. I directed them around the kitchen, and they grabbed what we needed as I mixed it all together. The laughter and chatter flowed between us, soothing away some of the day’s events. I told them about Remo, and they oohed over the kiss. Awwed when I said I’d touched on a lost love of his, I was sure of it.

  “I want to meet someone who melts me,” Beth said, stirring her bowl of icing by hand, her eyes distant. “But who will want us now that we’re monsters?”

  I went to her side and put an arm around her waist. “The right guy. That’s who.”

  She smiled at me, but there was sadness in her eyes, and I knew I couldn’t get rid of it for her. I hugged her. “Until then, we bake!”

  The flutter of wings spun me around. I more than half expected Ernie, and was prepared to defend my irritation with him, so when I saw it was Hermes, I had to scrub the scowl off my face.

  “Easy, Drakaina.” Hermes held up his hands. “You look about ready to bite someone in half.”

  Beth and Sandy waved at him in unison.

  I took a breath. “Sorry, thought you were someone else.”

  He shrugged his thin shoulders, and his feet twitched as though he wanted to be running instead of hovering in midair.

  “If you’re here, you have a message for me?” I grabbed one of the empty bowls and piled it beside the sink of soapy water.

  “Flora wants you to meet her at your bakery.” He fluttered up. “Want me to take a message back to her?” The eagerness in his voice was not far off from what I thought a golden retriever would sound like if it could beg to have a ball thrown.

  I looked at the two girls, and they waved at me. “Go on, we’ll clean up here.”

  “Thank you.” They knew how I liked my kitchen after baking. Spotless. I looked at Hermes. “Sure, tell her I’m on my way.”

  Spending time with Yaya always made me feel better. Some time with her would go a long way to soothing the last of my hurt. Better yet to do it at Vanilla and Honey, seeing as the bakery wasn’t going to be mine soon enough.

  With a puff of feathers, Hermes was gone.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay and clean up?” I looked at Beth and Sandy, and they shook their heads.

  “No, we’ve got it. But you’re going to miss out on the clafoutis.” Beth smiled, and the dinger on the oven went off. She pulled the pan out and showed it to me. I nodded.

  “You two did great. We keep this up, and maybe we can star
t a bakery here on this side of the Wall.”

  Sandy sucked in a sharp breath. “Do you mean that?”

  I blinked several times as I realized what I’d said. “Yeah, I do. I mean, why not?”

  She squealed, and even Beth got excited, her eyes sparkling. “We could totally rock it. Call it the Fantastic Fangs Bakery.”

  I laughed. “Yeah, that would be . . . nice. I’d like that. Let’s talk about it more when I get back.”

  I waved at them and headed out the front door. The thought of starting a new bakery was more than daunting; I knew the work and hours we’d have to put in. At the same time, I wasn’t going to drown myself in the pity party. I steeled my back. No, I wasn’t going to pity myself. And I wasn’t giving up on Vanilla and Honey, not yet.

  I headed for the bus stop that was outside the Wall. It would have been nice if Hermes had found me while I was still downtown.

  For a while I’d been using a car that technically didn’t belong to me. Sure, it had been Barbie’s, but I’d grown to like it. Now it was impounded, and I had no money to speak of, so the bus it was.

  I frowned as I walked to the bus stop, my mind racing. What the heck was Yaya doing at Vanilla and Honey at this hour anyway? It was after ten, and . . . more than that, how had she gotten in? I hadn’t given her a key to the bakery. “Yaya, what are you up to this time, you crazy old lady?”

  I knew the bus schedule by heart, and I also knew I was going to have to wait for at least a half an hour for the next one, then there was the long ride itself. It would be after midnight before I was at the bakery.

  The whoop of a police siren made every muscle in me tighten up. A police cruiser inched closer, its lights flickering. I stepped back. What now?

  Officer Jensen leaned out his window. “You going somewhere?”

  “Why, is that illegal now too?” I raised an eyebrow. I knew that his job was to patrol downtown Seattle. Not to drive around up near the Wall. Which meant he was here for a purpose, and probably that purpose had something to do with Remo. Seeing as Remo was also his boss.

  He nodded. “Actually, yes. You aren’t supposed to be on this side of the Wall.”

  I clenched my fingers over the papers in my hands. “And you’re going to make me go back?”

  “Nope. Remo felt bad for dropping you at the bus. You need a ride anywhere?”

  I blinked several times. “Yeah. Can you take me to my bakery?”

  “Sure. Hop in.” He leaned across and opened the passenger door.

  I slid in and buckled my seat belt.

  “Considering what you went through today, you look good. I’m sorry about throwing you into things like I did. I . . . knew you could handle it.” Jensen smiled at me, then swallowed and looked away. I liked him. He was a friend, handsome with his light-brown skin and deep, dark eyes, not to mention being a man in uniform, but . . . he wasn’t Remo.

  I kept my eyes on the side window. What to say? What not to say? I didn’t want to encourage him, nor did I want to offend him and have him drop me off in the middle of the highway.

  “Alena, Remo is no good,” he said.

  I turned to look at him. His eyes stared straight forward, locked on the road.

  “Well, he’s helped me a lot so far.”

  He frowned, his jaw ticking several times before he spoke. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I can’t keep letting you help him. Even with what I did . . . he sent me to get you, using the influence on me to force my hand. He’s using you. That much that Santos said is right. Remo doesn’t care about you, but he’s making sure you think he does. That’s his MO. You understand? He doesn’t care about anyone, and he’ll use you until he gets what he wants, and then he’ll cast you off like he’s done to every other woman in his life. Worse, you’ll get hurt or be killed. I . . . don’t want that to happen.”

  I bit my lower lip. His words didn’t feel right, and yet I couldn’t deny that there was a possibility they were true. “What do you know about the girl he went to medical school for?”

  His head whipped sideways so fast the car jigged side to side as he jerked the wheel. “What?”

  I swallowed hard, doing my best to work past the feeling that I might be betraying something Remo didn’t want to be common knowledge. At the same time, I . . . wanted to know everything I could about him. “He went to medical school, about twenty years ago.”

  He shook his head. “I doubt it.”

  I thought about Remo’s hands inside of Tad’s belly only a week before. How he’d quickly found the puncture that Beth had not been able to discover on her own. Remo had staved off Tad’s death long enough that we’d been able to get the healer Damara in to finish the job and save my brother’s life.

  I didn’t argue with Jensen. From the set of his jaw, it was obvious to me he wasn’t going to be open to anything that even slightly made Remo look like a good guy. The whole conversation made me wonder . . . was this just another aspect of his knight-in-shining-armor complex? Or did he really think I was in danger? “Why are you still working for him, then? If he’s such a bad guy.”

  His hands tightened on the steering wheel. “I’m tied to him, Alena. Anyone who signs on with him signs their loyalties over. It’s how it works with vampires. I never had a reason to care . . . I don’t want to see you get hurt, Alena. The best way to do that is to stay close to Remo so I can warn you. The fact that he dropped you off at a bus stop to get all the way home is just another—”

  “He sent you to get me,” I pointed out.

  “After I asked him where you were.”

  My heart sank a little. I reached up and pulled my hair over one shoulder, threading my fingers through it, then braiding it.

  He grimaced. “There’s something else I have to tell you.”

  I leaned back in my seat, trying to quell the twist of nerves in my belly. “What?”

  “I don’t think Remo wants you to win your case. He . . . he stands to lose a lot of his hold on the Supes if the human court system begins to recognize them. They could then go to protection on the south side of the Wall. Do you understand? He doesn’t want you—”

  “I got it.” I cut him off, not wanting to hear another word about Remo. I needed to digest what he’d told me. And I wanted to ask Remo about it. No matter what Jensen said, I trusted Remo.

  “Thanks for looking out for me, Officer Jensen,” I said.

  “Anytime. You can call me anytime, for anything. And call me Ben. Please.” He flashed me a grin, and I smiled back.

  “You’re a good friend.”

  He grimaced. “Ah, don’t friend zone me.”

  I laughed, and just like that the tension was broken. We spent the rest of the drive arguing about movies that didn’t accurately portray supernaturals. In particular, vampires and the variety of types they came in in movies. Sunlight defying, beautiful, ugly, bloodthirsty, maniacal, and heroic.

  “Here we are. Do you want me to wait?” He parked the cruiser at the curb in front of Vanilla and Honey.

  “No, I see my grandmother’s car. We can carpool.” I opened the door, paused, and looked back. “Thanks, Officer Jensen. I mean, Ben.”

  He tipped his hat and winked at me. “Ma’am.”

  Laughing, I stepped out and shut the door behind me. He was a nice guy; I liked him, and after the initial awkward tension, he was easy to be around. A thought flashed through my mind. He didn’t seem to mind the monsters . . . maybe I should introduce him to Beth? As the thought took root, I nodded to myself.

  There was no chemistry between Jensen and I; there never had been. Whatever he felt was only because I’d used my siren abilities on him in a desperate situation. If I gave him a push toward Beth . . . I could totally see it working.

  I could picture the group of us hanging out, visiting. With his arm around Beth, Remo’s around me, Tad’s around Dahlia. I smiled to myself; yeah, I was about to play matchmaker. I couldn’t wait to tell Beth.

  My thoughts skittered sideways. J
ensen was a good guy, and he didn’t do a thing for me. So apparently I liked the bad boys now that I was a monster. But was that chemistry fabricated on Remo’s part? Could Ben be right about Remo and the way he used women? The problem was that I could see the possibility hidden there, and it bothered me.

  I shook my head. “What has happened to the good girl I was?”

  The door of my bakery opened, and my yaya peered out. “Good girl? Good girls get run over in life; you need to be a bit of a badass to make it in this world.”

  “Yaya!” I gasped. “That isn’t true. And how did you get into my bakery anyway?”

  “Really? I think it is.” She shrugged. “Come on, I need help with my recipe. It’s not turning out the way I’d hoped.” She winked back at me. “As to getting in, I still have a few tricks up my sleeve. I’m old, not dead, you know.”

  In other words, she wasn’t going to tell me a thing.

  I took the edge of the door and stepped into the glowing warmth of the bakery. Though I wasn’t affected by the cold, I couldn’t deny I liked the feeling of heat coursing over my skin.

  Kind of like the feeling I got when Remo looked at me.

  “Dang it,” I muttered under my breath.

  Yaya laughed. “Talking to yourself? Oh dear, you must be getting old.”

  “Ha-ha, very funny.” I walked in and went right to the phone. “I need a locksmith before I do anything else . . . I might have taken the deed from Roger without asking.” I grabbed the phone book and flipped through the pages as Yaya nodded in agreement, muttering that Roger deserved nothing, until I found a local guy who said he could come at all hours. Good enough. I dialed him up and explained the situation. “Can you come now?”

  “Yeah, sure. Going to be double, four hundred,” he said with a yawn.

  “That’s robbery!” I spit out.

  Yaya touched my arm. “It’s on me. Just get him to come.”

  “Three fifty,” I said, “and some fresh baked goods.”

  “Done.”

  I gave him the address, and he arrived in under ten minutes. I showed him the two doors, and he got to work. I went into the kitchen, to see Yaya over a big bowl.

  “What did you really want to talk to me about, Yaya? You’re a better baker than me, and we both know it.”