Archangel's Viper

  "Of course," she said. "Safety first." She put on her seat belt with exaggerated care. "So nice of you to care."

  "I always care for the kitties I babysit."

  A rumbling sound from the passenger seat before Holly strangled the feral emanation.

  Venom shot her a glance. "What was that?" he asked in genuine curiosity. "You sounded more like Naasir than anything else."

  "It was human irritation," she muttered.

  No, it hadn't been.

  Venom thought back to what he knew of Uram's archangelic abilities and what the insane immortal might've passed on to Holly. Most vampires didn't receive anything but near-immortality as a result of the Making process, but there were rare exceptions: Venom was the way he was because Neha was the Queen of Poisons, of Snakes.

  Uram had had no such reputation or inclination. And, since he'd died at the dawn of the Cascade that had awakened new abilities in all the living archangels, there was no way to know the inheritance he'd left to Holly when he'd forced her to ingest his blood.

  Venom frowned. Was it possible Holly was directly feeling the power-birthing or boosting effects of the Cascade? It was meant to affect only archangels and a limited number of the most powerful angels, but Holly's Making had been unusual in every possible way. Maybe Uram had left such a strong imprint on her cells that she was catching the edge of the Cascade.

  Normally, he'd ask Raphael these questions, but the archangel he chose to call sire was in Morocco for a meeting of the Cadre, the archangels who ruled the world.

  Even had Raphael been here, he might not have had the answer. Because while Uram and Raphael had been friends once, they hadn't been close in all the years Venom had chosen to serve Raphael. The person who'd been most intimate with Uram during that time, and the one who'd know of any nascent abilities Uram might've developed, was the Archangel Michaela.

  Who was also in Morocco--and who'd lie to Venom's face just for amusement.

  Then there was the fact that Uram's blood had gone toxic. A toxin powerful enough to drive an archangel insane would've undoubtedly mutated whatever power it was that would've been Uram's in the Cascade . . . echoes of which now lived in Holly.

  "Have you taken a vow of silence?" Holly's voice was sugar sweet. "Were you in a monastery while you were gone?"

  "Yes, a monastery that permitted external calls to kitties in need of training." He took the George Washington Bridge across to the cliffs of the Enclave, where Janvier and Ashwini made their home. The exclusive area full of angelic residences boasted such stratospheric price tags--and such limited availability--that usually only old or extremely powerful angels could afford it, but Janvier had been given a small property a hundred years earlier by an angel for whom he'd retrieved an object of great value.

  "If I'm a kitty," Holly said in that same honeyed tone, "what does that make you? Hmm." A snap of her fingers. "Oh, I have it! Woof, woof! All slobbery tongue and drool."

  "That tongue is quite in demand," Venom said mildly because he knew that would annoy her and annoying Holly was high on his favorite-things-to-do list. "Not that little Hollyberries know about such things," he added in a lazy purr of sound.

  "Ah, such innocence you have." Holly crossed her legs the other way.

  The long slit of her dress opened to expose a creamy swath of skin that made his fingers curl tight on the steering wheel.

  Venom glanced away with an inward scowl. Holly might have grown up, but she was still only twenty-seven years of age and marked by horrific trauma. Unlike Venom, she hadn't chosen to embrace the immortal world with all its beauty and its darkness. It had been forced on her.

  She was the last woman he'd ever see as a partner for bed sport.

  "There's the turn," she said at that instant, her voice back to polite and reasonable.

  It made him want to irritate her just to get a rise. He knew full well this wasn't the real Holly Chang. The real Holly Chang was a complex and intense creature, sometimes bitter, sometimes sweet, and always dangerous. "Does it hurt to bite your tongue so hard?" he asked with faux concern.

  Holly didn't miss a beat. "I'm in a car with you--I clearly have a high pain threshold," she said as he brought the viper green Bugatti Chiron to a stop in Ashwini and Janvier's drive.

  She was outside by the time he moved around the car to open her door--and he'd moved with the striking speed of a cobra. "Well done, kitty."

  Giving him a patently false smile, she brushed nonexistent lint off her arm before heading up toward the wraparound verandah of Ash and Janvier's home, the railing decorated with tiny lights that sparkled in the quickly falling night. The couple came out just then, smiles of welcome on their faces.

  When their chocolate-colored mutt of a dog, its paws as huge as saucers, bounded out to sniff at Holly, she smiled and, bending, petted him with the ease of a woman who'd done the same many a time. The dog's eyes closed in ecstasy at her scratch behind its ears, but it only allowed itself a moment before bounding over to sniff at Venom.

  "Hello, Charlie," Venom said, going down on his haunches. Janvier had sent him photos of the abandoned puppy he and Ashwini had adopted, a puppy who'd grown into a rambunctious dog who never tired of play, but this was the first time they'd met.

  He held out his hand for Charlie to sniff.

  The dog took its time doing so . . . before laving Venom's face with a long lick, his tail wagging like a metronome.

  Laughing, Venom played with the friendly beast for a minute before rising--to see Holly watching him with a small frown between her eyebrows. When he met her gaze, however, she looked away and returned to her conversation with Ashwini, while Janvier came over to take charge of the dog and welcome Venom.

  Dinner was an unexpectedly relaxed affair--even Holly unwound and laughed with an open delight that made her eyes light up from within. Not with Venom, of course, never with him. However, she seemed at home with Janvier and his tall hunter mate. Out alone on the porch with Janvier at one point while Ashwini was showing Holly something inside the house, Venom took a sip of the wineglass of blood Janvier had handed him.

  He shuddered and, pulling the glass away from his lips, stared at the swirling red liquid that gave an excellent appearance of being blood. "What is this?"

  "Flavored blood." Janvier grinned and took a sip of his own abomination. "We're taste-testing this batch. What do you think?"

  "Why does blood need to be flavored?" Good blood was a jolt to the system, a burst of pure life pouring through vampiric veins. "Blood--good blood--is beautifully pristine and perfectly balanced."

  "It's this new generation of vampires," Janvier said sagely. "They're all about pushing boundaries and turning the old into the new."

  Snorting, Venom took a second sip--and shuddered again. "Reminds me of . . ." He frowned and made himself take another sip. "Actual red wine?" Amusement wove through his veins. "Someone has a sense of humor."

  "Elena and her business partner have hired a 'renowned vampire nose' who comes up with the flavors. Monsieur LaFerge is, mon ami, a pretentious ass I wish to throw into the Hudson, but as my Ashblade loves the dark-chocolate-infused blood he is responsible for creating, I'm forced to leave him be."

  "Not keeping your wife satisfied with your own blood, tut, tut."

  "Talk to me when you have a woman for longer than a night," Janvier responded with the easy insult of a friend who'd known him for untold years. "Bringing home a bottle of chocolate-infused blood for my wife has certain advantages." A very satisfied smile on Janvier's face. "I am a most content husband."

  Venom had been betrothed once--an eon ago. He hadn't thought of Aneera in as many years, having long ago left his past behind in a knot of grief and sorrow.

  Janvier stirred. "Dmitri told us about the bounty on Holly."

  "I'll keep her with me--they won't get to her."

  "You're planning to look into who it might be?" At his nod, Janvier said, "Use Holly. She knows the shadowy corners of this city far better than
you do."

  Venom curled his lip. "She is an infant." It was a reminder to himself as much as it was a statement.

  "She's been working with me and Ashwini for seven months," Janvier said, his Cajun accent making music of the unexpectedly serious words. "Not the part that involves hunting certain immortals who fall outside the purview of the Guild--but in talking to those too scared or otherwise afraid of directly contacting the Tower." A pointed look at Venom, the eyes that hinted at Janvier's marshy homeland darkened to near-black by the night. "You're too powerful. She isn't. She's one of them."

  Venom wondered that Holly had managed to sell that piece of fiction: he knew full well that she was utterly unlike the broken, weak creatures in the gray underground. Holly was a predator, albeit one who hadn't yet woken to her full strength. When she did . . .

  6

  Holly bit her tongue all the way back to the city . . . until she couldn't stand it anymore. "Are you going to bed?"

  A sharp look. "Why are my bed habits any of your business, Hollyberry?"

  She fought the urge to tear off his stupid sunglasses. "I know you're old and probably need more rest," she said with mock solicitousness, "but we should head to the darker end of the city, talk to a few people who usually only come out at night." It frustrated her to have a leash, to have to ask his permission to go into her own world, but Uram hadn't damaged her brain when he'd Made her. Holly understood that if she slipped that leash, the consequences could well be deadly.

  And not just for her.

  In truth, these days she was far more terrified of what she might do than what might be done to her. Even now, she wanted to claw and bite and cause Venom pain, wanted to make him bleed until she'd created a shimmering ruby pool around his body. Hand fisting at her side, she gritted her teeth and silenced the horrific whispers that came from the madness inside her. But no matter what she did, one thing she couldn't afford to forget: that she was the nightmare in the shadows.

  "Where would you suggest?" Venom's calm tone had the hairs rising on her arms.

  But Holly wasn't afraid of the viper that lived in him. The darkness in her, the part that wasn't other, but simply part of who she'd become, stretched out toward him. "A lot of information passes through the lower-end clubs," she said. "I have friends who patronize those clubs."

  One hand lying easily on the steering wheel, Venom turned his head toward her. "Wouldn't your friends call you if they'd heard something useful?"

  "They're not that kind of friends," Holly said shortly. "If you can't be bothered--"

  The tires squealed as he made a hard turn in the direction of the beauty and death of the Vampire Quarter. She knew the clubs with which he'd be familiar--Venom walked the dark side, but he was a very powerful vampire, one of the most powerful in the city. And power called to power. He'd be known at places that were elegant and drenched in money and strength.

  Today, she intended to take him to the far seedier side of town. "You have to let me lead," she said, ready to fight him on this. "The people on the streets will talk to you out of sheer fear, but they won't tell you anything."

  "How do you plan to explain my presence?" was his silken response.

  "I'll tell them we're dating," Holly said flippantly.

  Venom tapped a finger on the steering wheel. "Do they know about your abilities?"

  "The jagged speed, yes," Holly said, suspicious of his suddenly serious tone. "I wasn't able to hide it well at the start."

  "Then the two of us make sense." A slow, taunting smile. "They will assume you are my current pleasure toy."

  Scowling because he was right, Holly didn't speak again until he was pulling into a dark parking lot protected only by an aged chain-link fence. "I didn't know you hated your car." This area wasn't exactly the safest.

  He got out and shut the door, not coming around to her side this time. "No one will be touching this car."

  She realized why when she saw the number plate: VENOM.

  "Vain much?"

  "I'll get you a matching one that says KITTY."

  She knew he was baiting her but had to fight not to react nonetheless. Thankfully, keeping her heels from catching on the gravel of the parking lot provided a good distraction. They were on the cracked sidewalk within half a minute. She strode confidently down the street, Venom prowling beside her. "How can you see out of those glasses?"

  "Good night vision."

  As she watched, he took off his sunglasses and folded them away into the top pocket of his suit jacket. And his eyes, they reflected the paltry light on this street in a way that was probably eerie, but that riveted Holly.

  It irritated her to admit it, but Venom was as handsome as sin; the eyes were just the icing on the cake. "Do Neha's eyes nictitate?" On the surface, the Archangel of India had normal brown eyes, but since she'd Made Venom, there had to be more beneath the surface.

  "Yes," Venom said, surprising her with the straight answer. "It's difficult to catch and it happens very rarely, but yes."

  "Why aren't her eyes like yours?"

  A slow smile. "They are--but only for milliseconds at a time. Most people have never caught the transition."

  Holly tried to imagine Venom's eyes in Neha's regal face, couldn't. "What about other vampires in her court? Are many like you?"

  "None. Though she has been trying to Make another me for centuries." Especially after he'd left her court at the end of his Contract: to serve the angels for a hundred years in return for the gift of near-immortality.

  Neha had been more generous with her post-Contract settlement than mandated by their unusual agreement, and he'd had the money to travel, decide who he wanted to be. For the first time in a hundred years, he'd been free to live where he chose, serve who he chose, though he hadn't been certain he wanted to be part of any court.

  Then had come Raphael.

  Venom had slotted into the sire's tightly knit team as if he were a missing puzzle piece. Jason had even said as much at the time. "Finally, we are complete. We are the Seven."

  Neha and Raphael had been friendly back then, so Neha hadn't fought his defection. She'd seen it as him being drawn to Raphael's youth. "Wild to wild," she'd said with an indulgent smile when Venom returned to her court to tell her of his plans. "Well, Venom, if I had to lose you to anyone, it would be Raphael."

  Venom hadn't needed her permission. He'd served his hundred years with utmost fidelity, had earned his freedom. But archangels and queens like Neha weren't always rational--and this archangel had kept her promises to him. His visit had been a gesture of respect and honor.

  "Has Neha ever tried to lure you back?"

  Venom sent Holly another slow smile, wondering exactly how much she'd picked up of the current state of archangelic politics. It was probable that she had no idea Neha now considered Raphael an enemy, though Venom had the feeling Neha's hostility was intermingled with a deep sense of loss. When beings lived that long, their emotions tended to be complex, layered things where contrary feelings could exist side by side.

  Venom wasn't that old. His emotions were less knotty--and his pleasures simpler. Annoying Holly ranked at the top. "Everyone wants me."

  She snorted. "Doesn't being that delusional make it hard to function?"

  He felt his lips tug up . . . right as Holly stumbled on a crack in the sidewalk. He'd snapped out an arm and curved it around her waist before she did more than sway a little. She'd reacted quickly, too--just not as quickly as him. The side of her body slammed into the front of his, his hand fitting into the curve of her waist.

  She was gone as fast, jerking out of his hold with the inhuman speed that made her so much fun as a sparring partner. "If I wanted to be pawed," she said, brushing her arm as if brushing off his germs, "I'd go to a furry convention."

  "If you thought that was pawing, kitty," he said with deliberate sophistication in his tone, "your education has been sadly lacking."

  She forgot her coolly elegant persona and made a face at him. He'd
reached out a finger and flicked her nose before he thought about what he was doing. Eyes narrowing, she hissed at him, flashing those tiny fangs he still couldn't believe were functional. "Next time you touch me, I'm going for blood."

  "It's been said that once you go Venom, you never go back."

  "Argh!" Holly fought the urge to take off one of her high heels and throw it at his smug head. But she'd spent good money on those heels, she reminded herself. Money she'd earned in the work she did with Ashwini and Janvier--work that meant she had far better contacts in this part of town than Smugface Venomous.

  Taking a deep breath in an effort to control her racing heart as the otherness that lived in her stretched inside her skin, she turned her attention to the club that had appeared out of the darkness. The neon was pink and blazing and the outside walls matte black covered in creative white graffiti.

  Used needles lying carelessly against one wall glinted in the neon glow.

  "They like pretty boys here," she said to the deadly vampire who was very much a man. "You shouldn't have anything to worry about."

  His hand was suddenly against her lower back.

  Holly went to kick back her heel when he said, "Don't."

  It wasn't the word that got her to pause, it was the tone. It was the same calm, dangerous tone he'd used just before they'd fought off the goons who'd tried to kidnap her. Scanning the area in the way Ash had taught her, she caught the furtive movement on the left, deep in the shadows to one side of the club.

  Her chest eased. "I know them." She stepped away from Venom's coiled body. "Don't follow me."

  He just looked at her.

  Rolling her eyes, she patted the taut muscle of his biceps. "It's okay, Sir Venomous, Knight of the Tower. You can move fast enough to rescue the damsel in distress if she squeals for help." She turned and walked away before he could respond.

  She could feel his eyes on her, but he stayed in position. Thank God. If he hadn't, the two skinny vampires loitering in the shadows would've been ghosts in one second flat. "Zeph, Arabella."

  "Hol, hey." The pockmarked male vampire smiled at her, his face so badly damaged that she'd believed for the longest time that he'd been Made while in that state and that vampirism hadn't healed him though it healed most imperfections.