Fangs and Fennel (The Venom Trilogy #2)

by Shannon Mayer

  “You mean like pissing off the rival vampire gang?” Ernie asked.

  “That.” I nodded.

  “And not killing Theseus when you had the chance,” Yaya pointed out.

  I closed my eyes. “That.”

  “Ooh, and somehow getting on Aphrodite’s bad side? Though that probably ties to Hephaestus, to be fair,” Ernie added.

  I groaned. “That.”

  “Anything else you want to tell me about?” Yaya glanced sideways at me, her puffy white hair barely peeking above the steering wheel.

  “Keep your eyes on the road,” I said. “You make me nervous as it is without looking away.”

  She snorted and waved a hand at me in a mocking imitation. “I’ve been driving longer than you’ve been alive.”

  “That doesn’t exactly comfort me,” I grumbled as I leaned back in my seat, the light-blue pleather creaking under me. Ernie shook his head.

  “How does one little monster get into so much trouble?”

  “Lucky, I guess. And I’m hardly little. Have you seen the size of my snake?” I mumbled.

  They burst out laughing, and I shook my head as heat rushed through my face. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

  “Still funny.” Ernie chuckled. “Peeeenis humor always is.”

  “Ernie!” I burst out laughing, giggling uncontrollably.

  Yaya reached over and tapped a hand on my leg. “Pay attention. Trouble, our family bloodlines are nothing but trouble. Started long before you, Lena Bean, so don’t feel bad. If it weren’t drawn to you, it would be drawn to Tad. Not that he seems to be staying out of trouble either. Does he really think things will end well dating a vampire?”

  I crumpled in my seat thinking of Remo. Not that we were dating, not at all. But still, she had a point.

  “You don’t think Dahlia is nice?”

  “Not that,” Yaya said. “But they aren’t known for being monogamous. It’s not in their nature any more than being able to stand in the sun is. They are geared to flit between partners in order to satisfy their hunger.”

  The thought of Remo drinking from different women every night made every part of my body tense. No, it was not my place to judge him. I closed my eyes, but all I could see was Remo with someone who resembled Barbie. As if she would be solely responsible for taking all the men from my life.

  “Yaya, what if I can’t get this divorce?” I asked softly.

  She stared straight ahead through the first rung of the steering wheel. She really needed a phone book or something to sit on.

  “I guess you have a choice, then. Either you accept you are no longer attached to Roger and go on with your life. Or believe you are still married and wait for him to die before you move on with your life.”

  I gaped at her. “Wait for him to die?”

  “Well, you could always speed that up. Give him a cupcake with a little more venom in it.” She winked at me.

  “Yaya!” I couldn’t help the laughter that spilled out of me, any more than I could help the shock at Yaya semi-planning Roger’s murder. The whole thing was ridiculous. Yet a small, wicked part of me thought maybe it wasn’t a bad idea.

  “Just a thought.” She winked across at me again, then glared into the rearview mirror. “What is it with these idiots and their high beams? Do they not know it’s rude to have them on when driving behind someone?”

  Traffic was light on the highway with the late hour, so the high beams she spoke of shot through the back window loud and clear as they caught up to us, a little too reminiscent of my previous night for my liking.

  The truck attached to the lights roared up behind us and honked its horn as the driver flicked on a second pair of lights attached to its roof as well.

  “Oh . . . I got a bad feeling about this,” Ernie said.

  I twisted around in my seat, and my heart seized up like melted caramel over a block of ice. I recognized the grill on the truck all too well, and the splatter of branches and trees leftover from Dahlia and me running it into said trees.

  Which also mean the driver had come to house number thirteen looking for me.

  “Asshole,” Yaya muttered. “Alena, tell me this isn’t more of your trouble coming our way?”

  The truck rammed us before I could answer, though I suppose being rear-ended was really answer enough. Ernie splatted into the windshield with a yelp, his limbs sprawling every which direction, wings bent underneath him.

  “Yaya, take the next exit,” I yelled as the truck behind us revved its engine in preparation for another ram. Yaya jerked the wheel hard at the last second, which sent me sprawling across the bench seat.

  The truck roared up beside us, and from the seat I recognized Viking number two. “Oh dear, he doesn’t look happy.”

  Ernie untangled himself. “Crap, Alena, this is really too much, and I was looking for excitement.”

  The Viking twisted his wheel with a grim snarl on his lips. I reached over to help Yaya with the Granada. I pulled her steering wheel to the right, bringing the Granada into contact with the oversized truck for all it was worth. The passenger-side window exploded.

  “Insult him!” Yaya said. “If you can make him angry, he’ll get sloppy.”

  I leaned over, took a deep breath, and yelled, “I think the size of your truck is overcompensation.”

  Yaya barked a laugh. “Call him names!”

  “That’s not really her forte, Flora.” Ernie climbed onto the seat between us.

  “I can do it.” I leaned over to yell out the window. “Donkey butthole! Dingle nuts! Jerk face!”

  The Viking frowned, seeming more confused than angry. Maybe that would be enough.

  Yaya rolled down her window and lifted one tiny hand out, a single finger raised. I could easily imagine what she was doing.

  “Your father was weak as a little girl, and he wore his hair in pigtails!” she yelled.

  The Viking’s face hardened into a snarl, and he slammed the truck into us again. Apparently she’d touched a sore spot. Yaya gripped the steering wheel with both hands and wrestled with the car. I grabbed the steering wheel to help again, but I was too late; the car tires screeched as we were pushed off the road.

  “Hang on, this is going to hurt!” Yaya yelped as we were shoved sideways along the road, dirt and gravel spitting all around us, tinging off the metal.

  The truck pulled away only to hit us again.

  I was thrown sideways and slammed into the passenger door, which decided at that moment to give way.

  A scream hovered on my lips as I fell out of the door, barely stopping my tumble by grabbing the edge of the car. I dug my fingers in, the metal crumpled, and I hung on for all I was worth. Legs in and upper body hanging out, I stared up at the undercarriage of the big truck. I scrambled with my feet to hook them into something, anything, that would keep me from falling out and under the tires. Sure, I might survive, but I didn’t want to add being run over by a rather large truck to my most memorable memories.

  All I could imagine was my head being squashed like an overripe watermelon, exploding under the weight and pressure of the truck. Though it was a guess, I suspected even I wouldn’t survive my head exploding.

  The Viking laughed; I could hear it over the engine roaring and the tires of the Granada screeching.

  “I’ve got you, Lena,” Ernie yelled, and a tiny pair of hands wrapped around my ankles. Maybe I could sit up in time to miss being hit.

  Then again, maybe not.

  The truck swerved toward me, and I had to let go of the side of the car or have my hand trapped. Though I suspected my hand being pinned was about to be the least of my worries. I hung there, on my back, Ernie sitting on my legs in the Granada, watching as the truck ripped toward me. I held my breath. Yaya was right, this was going to hurt.

  The two vehicles slammed together . . . and no pain cut through me. I blinked and found myself staring up into the undercarriage of the truck.

  “You are one lucky snake.” Ernie ye
lled at me, and I didn’t understand at first. Then I got it. The height difference between the two vehicles had created a pocket that had kept me from being flattened.

  Mind you, I couldn’t move; I was still pinned between the two vehicles.

  “Got you now, bitch!” he roared. He was right; he’d pinned me good.

  “Alena!” Yaya yelled.

  “I’m on it!” I yelled back, not knowing if she could hear me. Or if I had this at all.

  I reached up and grabbed whatever bits and pieces I could in the undercarriage and started yanking at a pace akin to hand-whipping cream. Faster and faster I pulled pipes and plastic off the undercarriage of the truck until the engine above me choked and spluttered. Oil and fuel sprayed around me, the fumes gagging me.

  The truck jerked, and the two vehicles unhooked, drifting apart. I sat up, my butt on the edge of the passenger seat. I looked over my shoulder, my hair streaming around my face, making it difficult to see. Making me wonder if what I was seeing was what I was seeing.

  Remo’s car shot up between our slowing Granada and the truck, the slick muscle car moving like a bat out of hell.

  “Oh dear, this isn’t going to go well for the Viking.” I looked back at Yaya. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, now go kick his ass, he wrecked my car!” She lifted a fisted hand and shook it in his general direction.

  The Granada bumped into a cement barrier and came to a stop. I jumped out and ran across the road. We’d slid all the way down the off-ramp and were on a quiet side road. Kinda. Cars had stopped in either direction, their headlights streaming through the dark and lighting up the scene like some medieval arena. Humans crowded close, whispers of “What happened?” and “Is everyone all right?” floating on the air.

  Remo was already out of his car and had pulled the Viking out. “Sven, I warned you.”

  Sven. Well at least I was close with the nationality. I shook my head and kept moving. Dahlia got out of Remo’s car and grabbed me before I could get closer.

  “Don’t. He has to do this, or he’ll look weak,” she said.

  “Has to do what?”

  I looked past her.

  The two vampires circled around one another, like two large cats hunched and prepped to leap. Leap they did, and at the same time, their bodies slammed into one another. They hit so hard and fast, their limbs were a blur of movement. They smashed into the ground, illuminated by the headlights. The humans around us drew near, as did the sounds of sirens. “Poopsicles, Remo can’t be taken in again,” I said. Maybe it was selfish. Okay, it totally was. I didn’t want to think he’d be tossed into jail when it was obvious even to a newbie like me that my fight with Theseus was coming and I was going to need all the help I could get, no matter how badly I wanted to prove I could do things on my own.

  Then there was the even more pressing issue of Santos and his gang, seeing as that was more of Remo’s arena.

  Dahlia nodded. “But he has to do this. Believe me, Alena. This isn’t a choice at this point.” Almost the same words as before. Remo had to fight Sven? Maybe it was a vampire thing, a show of force. I was close in my musing, but I had no idea how close.

  “Remo, cops are coming. Hurry it up,” Dahlia shouted.

  He grunted, or I think he grunted, and he stood up. He had Sven’s neck gripped in his left hand, and he put his right hand on top of it. Sven’s red beard covered Remo’s hands.

  Sven’s eyes bugged out, and it looked like he tried to shake his head, his feet kicked out, and then his whole body jerked once, stiffened, jerked again, and then was still.

  The Viking’s head rolled to one side as Remo flipped Sven’s body in the other direction.

  Dahlia sucked in a sharp breath. “Shit, I didn’t think that was possible.”

  Possible? The world went fuzzy, and for the first time I saw how deadly Remo truly was. He’d ripped another vampire’s head off. Without any compunction, with what looked like very little effort. The fight with Achilles came back to me, how Remo had been trying to get his hands around the hero’s neck, how Achilles kept dodging him. Remo had been trying to rip Achilles’s head off.

  My stomach heaved, and I took a step back, swallowing hard, but I couldn’t take my eyes from the scene in front of me. Remo had tossed the head across the road, backlit by vehicles. He strode toward me.

  I recoiled from him, taking several steps back before I could stop my feet. My heart raced, and all I could think was that this was the man I’d kissed, that I’d wanted to kiss. This man I saw when I closed my eyes to sleep at night had just removed another man’s head without so much as a “How do you do?”

  No. No. That wasn’t fair. This was vampire turf wars, and they were bound to be violent and fatal.

  My mind was a jumble of thoughts and emotions I couldn’t keep track of, bouncing from horror to straight-out anger. On one hand, I was grateful he’d come, that he’d stood up for me. On the other hand, it was the same thing again. Like I couldn’t take care of myself. And while things might not have been going well, I was managing. I could have handled Sven. I was sure of it.

  “Alena, are you all right?” Remo took my hand and turned my arm over. My skin had been peeled back at some point, and my scales glittered through in the garish light.

  I pulled away from him. “Yeah, I’m good. Thanks.” I turned away and strode back toward the beaten-up Granada, doing my best to banish the image of Remo yanking off Sven’s head. I had killed people, other monsters. It wasn’t fair of me to judge Remo for protecting me in the same way. “Yaya, will the car start?”

  Her eyes looked past my shoulder, and I made myself keep walking. Away from him. “Yaya?”

  She cleared her throat. “We’re stuck on the median.”

  Without thinking, I made my way around to the other side of the car. In a flash, Remo and Dahlia were there with me. Before I could ask, they pushed the car off the median and back onto the road. I frowned, said nothing. Again. As if I couldn’t have lifted it on my own; I knew in every fiber of my being I could have.

  Dahlia grabbed my arm. “Aren’t you going to thank us?”

  The snake in me uncoiled, and I knew it was seconds from bursting free. “Let go of me.”

  She dropped my arm as if I were a hot pan fresh out of the oven. “What is wrong with you?”

  I walked away, my throat tight and the words trapped. Mostly because I didn’t want to say things that I would regret later. Words that would hurt or even destroy friendships. “Please don’t follow me” was all I managed to say.

  Dahlia made a move, and from the corner of my eye I saw Remo grab her. “No, we’ve overstepped. I’ve overstepped. Let her go. She’ll get ahold of us if she needs to.”

  Gratitude flowed through me, and I managed to give him a smile. I mouthed, Thank you, and he gave me a wink.

  Yaya started the car, and we were once more away, headed to find Zeus whether he wanted to be found or not.

  “What are you all teary eyed about?” Ernie flicked a tear from my cheek. Yaya glanced at me and nodded. She understood. Remo understood. I had to find ways to make it as a monster, to find my own path without other people trying to save me at every turn. I needed to be able to stand on my own two feet, tail, whatever. That would be the only way I’d ever truly learn to survive in my new reality.

  I buckled my seat belt and tucked my chin to my chest. “I don’t want to try and explain right now.”

  Ernie dropped back to the seat between us, cupcake platter firmly held between his hands. How it had managed to stay in one piece was beyond me.

  “Well, fine. But are we still going to Zeus now?” He pointed at the cupcakes.

  I nodded. “Yeah, more than ever I’m going to get to the bottom of this.”

  “You going to question him between bouts of puke?” Yaya’s eyes sparkled, like she wanted to see Zeus green and on his knees.

  I clutched at my seat belt as the cold air swirled in around us. “Something like that.”

 
; Really, I was hoping he would answer my questions without the cupcake. But I’d dealt with Zeus, and I knew how he was. An avoider of epic Greek proportions.

  CHAPTER 17

  Before we went all the way out to Olympic Drive in the Highlands, I pulled over and used Yaya’s cell phone to call the Blue Box Store Zeus worked at. I kept the phone on speaker. “Store manager, please,” I said.

  “He’s not available, would you like to leave a voice message?” a raspy voice answered.

  Yaya nodded.

  I cleared my throat. “Yes, I’d like to leave a message.”

  “Hold, please, I’ll forward you to his voice mail.”

  I waited, the line buzzed and clicked, then an automated voice came on.

  “You have reached the voice mail of—”

  “Zeus Olympia,” Zeus said, then back to the automated voice.

  “The voice mail box for this party is full.”

  It clicked off, and I handed the phone back to Yaya. She cursed the phone like somehow it was the cell phone’s fault. I had to agree; there was nothing more irritating than trying to leave a message for someone only to be told their voice mail was full. Who didn’t check their messages at least once a day?

  Psychos, that’s who. All that meant was I really had no choice; we were off to Zeus’s abode.

  Number one (yes, Zeus’s house was number one) Olympic Drive was a mansion. I mean, like a literal mansion built into a hillside, set way apart from any other houses. The fence was fifteen feet high, the gate solid, and the only reason I knew it was the right place was the seal in the middle of the gate with an oversized lightning bolt through it.

  “Subtle,” I mumbled under my breath.

  Yaya leaned over and pushed the intercom button. It buzzed and clicked before a high-pitched, whispery voice floated through. “Hello, are you here for the party?”

  “Of course we are, you idiot. We brought the dessert,” Yaya snapped.