Sweet Venom
Page 82
“Greer, you have to bite it!” I shout.
“Me? I—” She looks at me, helpless. “I can’t. I don’t know how.”
“You have to. Close your eyes and do it,” I insist. “ Instinct will take care of the rest.”
Grace shouts up from the floor, “We believe in you!”
Greer’s eyes widen in terror and then narrow in determination. Come on. Squeezing her lids shut, she opens her mouth and sinks her teeth into the creature’s shoulder.
I didn’t see her fangs descend. But when the monster disappears beneath them three beats later, sending Greer into a heap on top of Grace, I know she did it.
Gasping with exertion and adrenaline and recovered breath, I grab Greer with my good arm and roll her off Grace before collapsing onto the floor next to them.
For a long time we lie there, side by side and panting, trying to absorb what just happened. If they hadn’t shown up, I’d be monster meal right now, some beastie’s one-way ticket out of the abyss.
Grace was right. Things are changing and I can’t do this alone anymore. Without Ursula—I mean Euryale—around to help me figure things out, I need my sisters even more. And I need to tell them that. My near-death moment has made me realize that I’d better say what I have to say before I lose the opportunity.
“I was going to call you two,” I say, swallowing my pride. “Tomorrow, I was going to call and apologize and say we should train together. We’re sisters and it’s my duty to make sure you’re safe. Training you to protect yourselves is the best way to assure that.”
“Really?” Grace squeals, pushing herself up to a sitting position. “I was going to come tell you the same thing,” she says. “Tomorrow.”
“Looks like the monsters moved up our timetable,” I reply with a laugh.
We both turn to look at Greer, who hasn’t responded. She is lying there with her eyes closed and a completely disgusted look on her face, but otherwise looking like her normal icy self. Maybe she’ll need some convincing after this. A manticore would horrify anyone who saw it on the street. Let alone having to fight it.
“All right,” she finally says. “I’m in.”
I release a relieved breath and sense that Grace does the same. Neither of us wants her to walk away.
“On one condition,” Greer adds.
“What’s that?” Grace asks.
“This monster fighting gig cannot,” she says, “interfere with my social schedule.”
She hasn’t moved, hasn’t altered her expression. She’s lying there in bare feet and what are probably designer clothes. She’s just sent some hideous unknown monster back into the abyss. And she’s worried about her social schedule?
I’m on the verge of telling her to stuff it when she cracks a smile.
Grace and I burst out laughing.
Thank goodness.
“I’m joking.” Greer sits up. “Mostly. But I’m also kind of serious. I have a lot of responsibilities that don’t involve”—she makes a vague gesture that kind of encompasses the whole room—“any of this. I can’t cast them aside.”
My laughter dies.
She’s right. This world might have been my whole existence for the last four years, but Greer and Grace have been living real lives. They have people who care about them and others who depend on them. They’re not alone, like me. It’s not fair to ask them to give up all that for something they didn’t choose.
“Fine,” I say reasonably. “We’ll work around all the other stuff whenever we can.”
“Excellent.” Greer pushes to her feet. “Now, do you have any mouthwash around here? That monster tasted nasty.”
I point her to the bathroom, and she disappears to wipe out the taste of beastie. I don’t blame her—monsters taste like rotten garbage, and the sweet taste of our venom is never quite enough to counteract it. You learn to deal, but you never get used to it. Not really. Monster is not an acquirable taste.
“Were you really going to call us tomorrow?” Grace asks quietly.
“I was.”
She’s silent for a few seconds before asking, “Why?”
I’m ready to shrug off the question, as if it’s nothing major. But when I look in her eyes, I can tell it’s a very big deal.
“Because we belong together,” I answer honestly. “What-ever kept us apart all these years, I think we belong together in the end. Things are changing, and although that scares me a little, it’s obviously part of something bigger than all of us. We have a destiny to fulfill, and I don’t want to fulfill it alone. I don’t think I can.”
Oh, she mouths.
Then, before I can react, she lurches forward and throws her arms around my neck in a tight hug.
“Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!” I scream.
“What?” she gasps.
“My shoulder,” I explain, my eyes clenched against the sharp pain. “It popped out of the socket when I skewered the beastie’s tail.”
“Oh, what can I do?”
I give her a quick lesson and then, before I can take a fortifying breath, she shoves everything back into place. I gasp at the shock, but can tell that she did a fine job.
“Okay?” she asks.
I nod.
“Can I hug you now?” When I nod again, she wraps her arms gingerly around my shoulders. “I’m so glad you realized we belong together.”
“Me? I—” She looks at me, helpless. “I can’t. I don’t know how.”
“You have to. Close your eyes and do it,” I insist. “ Instinct will take care of the rest.”
Grace shouts up from the floor, “We believe in you!”
Greer’s eyes widen in terror and then narrow in determination. Come on. Squeezing her lids shut, she opens her mouth and sinks her teeth into the creature’s shoulder.
I didn’t see her fangs descend. But when the monster disappears beneath them three beats later, sending Greer into a heap on top of Grace, I know she did it.
Gasping with exertion and adrenaline and recovered breath, I grab Greer with my good arm and roll her off Grace before collapsing onto the floor next to them.
For a long time we lie there, side by side and panting, trying to absorb what just happened. If they hadn’t shown up, I’d be monster meal right now, some beastie’s one-way ticket out of the abyss.
Grace was right. Things are changing and I can’t do this alone anymore. Without Ursula—I mean Euryale—around to help me figure things out, I need my sisters even more. And I need to tell them that. My near-death moment has made me realize that I’d better say what I have to say before I lose the opportunity.
“I was going to call you two,” I say, swallowing my pride. “Tomorrow, I was going to call and apologize and say we should train together. We’re sisters and it’s my duty to make sure you’re safe. Training you to protect yourselves is the best way to assure that.”
“Really?” Grace squeals, pushing herself up to a sitting position. “I was going to come tell you the same thing,” she says. “Tomorrow.”
“Looks like the monsters moved up our timetable,” I reply with a laugh.
We both turn to look at Greer, who hasn’t responded. She is lying there with her eyes closed and a completely disgusted look on her face, but otherwise looking like her normal icy self. Maybe she’ll need some convincing after this. A manticore would horrify anyone who saw it on the street. Let alone having to fight it.
“All right,” she finally says. “I’m in.”
I release a relieved breath and sense that Grace does the same. Neither of us wants her to walk away.
“On one condition,” Greer adds.
“What’s that?” Grace asks.
“This monster fighting gig cannot,” she says, “interfere with my social schedule.”
She hasn’t moved, hasn’t altered her expression. She’s lying there in bare feet and what are probably designer clothes. She’s just sent some hideous unknown monster back into the abyss. And she’s worried about her social schedule?
I’m on the verge of telling her to stuff it when she cracks a smile.
Grace and I burst out laughing.
Thank goodness.
“I’m joking.” Greer sits up. “Mostly. But I’m also kind of serious. I have a lot of responsibilities that don’t involve”—she makes a vague gesture that kind of encompasses the whole room—“any of this. I can’t cast them aside.”
My laughter dies.
She’s right. This world might have been my whole existence for the last four years, but Greer and Grace have been living real lives. They have people who care about them and others who depend on them. They’re not alone, like me. It’s not fair to ask them to give up all that for something they didn’t choose.
“Fine,” I say reasonably. “We’ll work around all the other stuff whenever we can.”
“Excellent.” Greer pushes to her feet. “Now, do you have any mouthwash around here? That monster tasted nasty.”
I point her to the bathroom, and she disappears to wipe out the taste of beastie. I don’t blame her—monsters taste like rotten garbage, and the sweet taste of our venom is never quite enough to counteract it. You learn to deal, but you never get used to it. Not really. Monster is not an acquirable taste.
“Were you really going to call us tomorrow?” Grace asks quietly.
“I was.”
She’s silent for a few seconds before asking, “Why?”
I’m ready to shrug off the question, as if it’s nothing major. But when I look in her eyes, I can tell it’s a very big deal.
“Because we belong together,” I answer honestly. “What-ever kept us apart all these years, I think we belong together in the end. Things are changing, and although that scares me a little, it’s obviously part of something bigger than all of us. We have a destiny to fulfill, and I don’t want to fulfill it alone. I don’t think I can.”
Oh, she mouths.
Then, before I can react, she lurches forward and throws her arms around my neck in a tight hug.
“Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!” I scream.
“What?” she gasps.
“My shoulder,” I explain, my eyes clenched against the sharp pain. “It popped out of the socket when I skewered the beastie’s tail.”
“Oh, what can I do?”
I give her a quick lesson and then, before I can take a fortifying breath, she shoves everything back into place. I gasp at the shock, but can tell that she did a fine job.
“Okay?” she asks.
I nod.
“Can I hug you now?” When I nod again, she wraps her arms gingerly around my shoulders. “I’m so glad you realized we belong together.”
