A Kiss of Venom (An Araneae Nation Novella)

by Edwards, Hailey

  I had kept us both faithful to the memory of Armand, and here he was. Here I was, as I would never be again. Salticidae believed in marriage before sex. In my heart, Armand and I had been as good as wed. This was my last chance to enjoy my husband’s body, because there was no divorce in Salticidae society, and even if there had been, I had already tried and failed to cut him from my heart.

  “One time.” Warning bells clanged in my head. This was a bad idea, a horrible idea.

  “One afternoon,” he coaxed, a wicked gleam in his eye. “Once is not enough.”

  “Two hours,” I countered, fearful of how much damage he could deal my heart in so short a time.

  His teeth scraped my throat. “I can work with that.”

  Fisting his collar, I pulled him inside the room then slammed him against the door.

  His hands went to the hem of my shirt, lifting it higher, until his fingers brushed my breast band.

  “I need a moment.” I couldn’t risk him finding me armed. I planted my palms on his chest. “Don’t move.”

  I backed away, and he tried to follow. The hunger in his eyes made it hard to think, to speak.

  I stumbled over a chair, grasped its back to keep from falling and came away with a scarf in my hand.

  Heart racing, I patted the seat. When Armand got near enough, I shoved him down, captured his wrists and tied them behind his back. One more knot secured him to the chair as he tested his bonds.

  I circled around to his front. “I told you not to move.”

  He continued to flex his arms. “I told you that, and look where it got me.”

  “Tied up in my room.” I tapped my lips. “Not a bad deal from where I’m standing.”

  “From where I’m sitting, I can’t complain.” He grunted. “About my hands…”

  “What about them?” I eased behind his back, out of sight. My trunk was still open, so I flung my clothes and weapons into it, taking care to situate the vial before I shut it as quietly as I could. I kept a hand on the lid, debating, but the preventative I’d brought with me was as effective before intercourse as it was afterward. Considering its foul taste, I would do Armand a favor and wait until after he left to put my herbs to use. My robe lay crumpled on the bed. I slid it on and padded around to face Armand. Until that moment, I wasn’t sure I wanted this, wanted him.

  The rapid rise and fall of his chest, the dilation of his gorgeous lavender eyes, I couldn’t resist.

  He was air to me, and I’d gone too long without breathing him in.

  I stood before him, running my fingers down the lapels of my robe. My nipples pearled beneath his gaze. I rubbed those too, recalling how he loved to nip and tease me into orgasm with his mouth.

  His voice broke. “You don’t play fair.”

  “Life isn’t fair.” I untied my belt. “Why should I be?”

  The robe slid from my shoulders to pool at my feet. His eyes were drawn straight to my sex, and I chuckled as his lips went slack. He must not have expected my hair to be teal and indigo everywhere…

  His gaze was as tangible as a caress. “There’s something you should know.”

  “Oh?” I rolled my nipples between my fingers. “What’s that?”

  “I tie knots for a living.” His muscles bunched, and my scarf drifted to the floor. “Yours need work.”

  He was on me before I registered he had moved. His mouth covered mine, swallowing my gasp. My head hit the wall, but dazed as I was, I didn’t care. The taste of him was on my tongue, and I was desperate for more. I clawed at his shirt, flung it aside. His hips pinned me to the wall as he shivered.

  “Pants.” He cursed, his lips mashed to mine. He had tied a knot in his laces.

  “You’re right.” I laughed, gasping for breath, grasping for him. “Your knots are much better.”

  His response was a hard nip to my collarbone that melted my knees.

  I reached blindly beside us, knocking odds and ends off the dresser until I felt my shears.

  Armand paled when he saw where I was headed.

  “Stop.” He caught me by the wrist. “It’s Araneidae silk. You can’t cut it. Not with those.”

  “I should have remembered that.” I tossed the shears on the floor behind us. “Are you all right?”

  He blinked down at me. “I think my life just flashed before my eyes.”

  I patted his chest. “What did you see?”

  “I’m not sure.” He reached down to check himself. “I closed them.”

  Rolling my eyes at him, I pushed him back and forced myself to take a breath while I tackled the knot he had tied. When the laces came undone, I shoved his pants down his hips and took his hard length in hand. I stroked it once, running my thumb over the head.

  “Nicolette.”

  “Hmm?”

  He braced his forehead against the wall behind me. His hot breath shuddered over my shoulder.

  “I want—” He bucked into my hand. “Gods damn it, I want you.”

  Grasping my waist, he lifted me higher, parted my thighs with his and plunged home. I cried out when his hips started moving. Head thrown back, I was shocked when he struck. His fangs sank deep in my neck, holding me steady for his onslaught as though I were his prey. His venom stung in my veins. I had forgotten the heady rush of his poison, the way it made my sex clench and heart trip. He groaned at my ear, slid his hands down my sides to cup my arse and pin me as his thrusts grew harsher.

  Tears pricked my eyes. I bit them back, thankful when he lowered his head, when he sank fangs into the tender skin of my breast and let his tongue caress away the pain. I arched against his mouth, into his bite, and when his thumb at last parted the lips of my sex, I exploded around him.

  He came later, much later, and several times after that.

  It was a well-spent afternoon by any standard.

  Armand’s snoring jarred me awake. When I tensed, his hand tightened its possessive hold on my left breast. Shifting onto my side, I winced as a spangle cut into my hip. We’d never made it to the bed. The clothes I had discarded last night were the cushion we lay on, and the ornaments were sharp.

  Armand nude was a sight worth savoring. Claw marks reddened his chest and flanks. His mouth was swollen from my kisses and hung open, hence the rendition of an ursus in its death throes.

  Lifting his arm, I slid from under it and fought to keep my sore legs under me.

  A bath would have been divine, but I settled for using the rose-scented water left in my basin to wash away all traces of my folly, except the blemish left on my heart. That stain refused to budge no matter how I scrubbed. Foolish to think I could be so close to him, touch him and remain unaffected.

  “It’s too early in the day for remorse.” Armand pushed upright with a grunt.

  He sat on a blanket of my gowns, his legs crossed, his hair mussed, looking utterly ridiculous. My heart really shouldn’t have tumbled at the uncertainty in his gaze.

  “The day is almost over.” Difficult as it was telling time without the sun, it must be near dark.

  He stared at me until I had to look away. “Do you regret what happened?”

  “I gave you two hours.” I rescued my robe from the knob of the dresser where it hung, and eased into it before using the detangling of my hair to avoid Armand ruining my afterglow. “It’s time to go.”

  “Where are we going?”

  His voice came from behind me. His palm slid across my stomach, through the part in my robe. I shivered when his hand lowered, caressing the crease in my thigh. I popped his wrist with my brush.

  I gestured around us. “I have to tidy this before Maisy arrives.”

  He winced at the mess we’d made. “We employ people happy to perform that service for you.”

  “I met one such person, remember?” He must have seen Holly leave my room. “This isn’t her mess.”

  “Then I’ll help you.” He waved a pair of my undergarments like a flag. “It’s the least I can do.”

  Heat burning in m
y cheeks, I snatched them from him. “Are you always so hard to get rid of?”

  He appeared to give the matter genuine consideration. “I’m harder since meeting you.”

  There was a time he couldn’t scrape me from his boots fast enough. What had changed?

  A pang rocked me on my heels. The girl I had been… That girl was no one. Was the prestige I’d cultivated as Nicolette, companion to one of the brightest musical minds of our age, so impressive as to bypass the humble origins he must expect from me? Was that the difference? She—I—still lacked the most basic qualifications as a potential wife. I could not spin Araneidae silk. I could not produce the hormone required to nurture productivity among their spinners. This—us—it would never work.

  Beneath this façade…I was still me.

  And I had a task to perform. It was time I got back to it.

  “Has that line had as much practice as you have?” I eyed my trunk, wishing I could dress.

  “You’re upset.” He stood and pulled on his pants. “Is that why? You think this meant nothing?”

  I snorted. “You’ve known me the better part of a day.”

  “Sometimes I wonder.” He tilted his head, studying me. “You remind me of someone.”

  I faked surprise. “You remember their faces?”

  “Their names too.” He sighed. “The list is much shorter than you would believe.”

  “There’s no need to recite it.” I held up my hands. “I trust you.”

  “No you don’t.” He scoffed. “You’re tricking me again.”

  “Fine.” The words popped out of my mouth. “Who do I remind you of?”

  “A childhood friend.” His voice grew coarse. “She passed away some time ago.”

  Pressure mounted under my breastbone until I reached up to rub it away. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you.” He cleared his throat. “I suppose that is the fate of those left behind, to glimpse the departed in strangers’ faces.”

  Perverse curiosity forced me to ask, “Is that why you’re here with me now?”

  “I laid that ghost to rest,” he said softly. “I’m here with you because there’s nowhere else I would rather be.”

  “Armand—” I massaged my temples. “Never mind, it wouldn’t do any good.”

  He walked up behind me, wrapped his arms around me and pressed his lips to where it hurt.

  “What were you going to say?” He nuzzled my jaw. “Tell me. I can handle it.”

  “Why pursue me?” I turned to face him. “You and I, we don’t work. Why pretend?”

  “I pretend because reality is too harsh.” His warmth faded. “I have duties to my clan, responsibilities to my family. I have known since I was a small child who I would marry and when. She’s a fine girl with a good heart who’s been groomed to bring me pleasure since she was born. Can you—with all your freedom to do as you please—judge me for wanting to spend what little time I have left as a bachelor with a female of my choosing? One who fascinates me rather than fawns over me?”

  “The way you act cultivates the perception that you welcome the attention.” I scowled at him. “That first night you treated me as if my bedding you was a certainty. That all you had to do was crook your finger and you could have me.”

  “All of us hide our true selves from time to time.” He ran a lock of my vibrant hair through his fingers. “Some of us are just more obvious about it.”

  Before the old argument swept me away, before my anger swelled and I confessed all, I walled up my heart. His pain radiated through me, through the filament that tied my soul to his, and it still hurt me.

  I wiped my eyes where he couldn’t see. “I think you should go.”

  “I think you’re right.” He pulled on his boots and grabbed his shirt. “Thank you for this.”

  “You don’t…” I flinched when he slammed the door, “…have to thank me.”

  Sinking to the floor, I gave into the sobs welling up the back of my throat.

  Nothing had changed. Stare hard enough and illusion shattered. Armand was still the Araneidae heir. The only difference was these days he chose to take refuge under the skirts of females freer than himself while I took refuge under paint and dye.

  We were older. I liked to think wiser. Yet we were still fools where each other were concerned.

  I wiped my eyes and crawled to my trunk. I worked a latch on the underside of the lid and opened a hidden compartment where I kept medicinal herbs for Maisy and myself. The packet I lifted felt too heavy for its contents. I shook several of the wild carrot seeds into my palm then tossed them into my mouth and chewed.

  I grimaced. They tasted as good as unwashed feet smelled, but I ground the seeds into a pulp before I swallowed them.

  While my friends had sworn by the effectiveness of smartweed leaves, when I had been with Armand, I nibbled them daily in preparation for the nights we spent together and still became pregnant. According to the Salticidae healer who acted as midwife for Maisy’s birth, wild carrot seeds were much more effective.

  Not that I regretted having Maisy. How could I? She was the one thing I had ever done right in my life.

  But our circumstances being what they were, I was in no hurry to add to our family.

  Straight-faced, I armed myself as much as with steel and poison as I did with paint and perfume. When I struck out to explore the west end, I strode with purpose. If Pascale had been held there, she must have left clues to where she had gone. Failing that, I could try the guards, but that was a dangerous proposition. Known for their cannibalism, the Mimetidae were more than feared. They were reviled. Their grins seemed sharper somehow, and they liked that edge of fear.

  I usually avoided them at all costs, but I might not have the luxury this time.

  The west end was as far in that direction as the tunnels went. Unless the area had changed, there was nothing down that stretch but guards’ quarters and a few token cells used by those whose guilt a council of their peers had yet to determine. If I got caught, I had no excuse. Being captured would be a very bad thing. Females who dressed as I did, who lived as I did, without a male to protect them, had better learn to protect themselves if they wanted to preserve those freedoms Armand had mentioned.

  The long walk gave me too much time for reflection. My head was down, my mind elsewhere, when a figure coalesced from the shadows and stepped into the center of the hall, barring my path.

  “You’re a long way from where you ought to be.” His gaze slid down my body.

  I returned the favor. He was tall, broad and grinning like a sweet roll had just fallen into his lap.

  I put a hand to my throat and let my voice quaver. “You startled me.”

  He rested a palm on the hilt of his sword. “What are you doing down here?”

  “I’m a guest of the maven’s.” I stepped back. Let him think it was out of fear. I had no desire to let a skilled swordsman trap me in such close quarters. “I must have gotten turned around.”

  “Is that right?” He squinted at me.

  I bobbed my head. “Everything here looks the same.”

  “You look familiar.” He rubbed his jaw. “Oh. I remember you. You’re here with the girl. Pretty little thing. Young too.”

  I paused mid-step. “I should be going.”

  “Why’s that?” He chuckled softly. “You’ve only just arrived.”

  Forcing myself to play my role when I would rather wrap my hands around his meaty throat for savoring his memory of Maisy, I laughed nervously. “I know it’s silly, but at the party last night I overheard this dapper young fellow telling a few guests stories about the history of the nest. He told them the west end was haunted.” I rubbed my arms. “I wanted to come see for myself. I didn’t know the area was guarded, or I would never have come. Is there any way I can make it up to you?”

  “You want a tour?” He hooked his thumb over his shoulder. “Come on. I’ll show you.”

  I took small steps closer. When I was with
in reach, he grabbed me around the waist and hefted me up against his chest.

  Reaching into my pants pocket, I pinched some of the valerian root powder from my stash. When he lowered his head, I lifted my hand and blew the sedative into his face. Since his mouth had been opened for a kiss, the white dust flew down his throat.

  “What was that?” He coughed while staggering backward. “Who are you? What…?” He shook his head. “What are you doing here?”

  I pried free of his arms and shoved him onto his knees. While he knelt with his head in his hands, I eased out of range and checked the tunnel to ensure we were alone. His tongue was so thick now he could barely mumble. I had seconds until he collapsed.

  Then I had two, three questions maximum before he passed out cold.

  When his head hit the dirt, I knelt beside him, slapping his cheeks to keep him awake.

  I held his eyes open with my fingers. “Where is Pascale?”

  He blinked at me. “Who?”

  I leaned closer. “The maven’s sister Pascale, where is she?”

  “Not here.” His eyes crossed. “Went…I don’t know. Away.”

  “She isn’t in the nest?” I grasped his collar and shook him. “She isn’t in Erania?”

  “This is Erania.” He gave me a puzzled look. “Do I know you?”

  Careful this time to measure out how much valerian root I gave him, I put a few tablespoons of the stuff in his mouth and helped work his throat until he swallowed it all. He belched a white plume.

  With the kerchief from my bag, I wiped his face clean and dusted his shirt as best I could.

  Valerian root was a strong sedative, but it required help in the form of powdered venom before I’d discovered the perfect mixture for my line of work. With the amount this poor male had ingested, I’d bet he’d wake up in the morning with the worst headache of his life and little memory of me. In any case, I had what I came for—confirmation Pascale was not in Erania. That meant my plan had to change. It meant one way or the other, Maisy and I were leaving tonight. The sooner I got us packed, the better.

  I turned to go, pulling up short when a figure eased from the shadows.