Shards of Venus

by Tjalara Draper

  “In that case,” he said, “there’s something you should know.”

  Violet sucked in several shallow breaths.

  “I’ve never done this romance stuff before either.” The smile he gave her was so warm, so open, she felt some hard, defensive, unscalable wall inside of her melt.

  Before she could reply, his lips met hers. Bubbles popped and tingled over her skin as they kissed.

  The light in her heart sparked brighter.

  14

  Aphrodite

  A relentless drip, drip, drip echoed off the concrete walls of Nathan’s prison.

  Matthias held a relaxed stance, checking his mobile phone at various intervals, while Sagan leaned rigidly against the wall. The boy’s face remained impassive, but something intense, almost wild, glinted in his eyes.

  Nathan gritted his teeth; the ache in his wrists had worsened. Even though his tough hide prevented almost anything, except Diamantium, from cutting his flesh, he could’ve sworn the metal cuffs were grinding into his bones.

  A few minutes passed before the screech of rusty hinges announced the return of Matthias’s minions.

  A shudder racked through Nathan’s body. He wasn’t sure if it was from the fatigue of denying the haze or from the dread of whatever was coming through that godforsaken door. He dropped his head, feigning disinterest. The pool of blood beneath him continued to spread, but the blue flooding his vision was quickly joined by a pair of black combat boots. A hand grasped a chunk of his hair and yanked back. Nathan suppressed the urge to fight out of the strong grip.

  “I told you not to pass out on me, slith. I have something to show you,” said Matthias, his breath hot and humid on Nathan’s ear.

  The two men, Brecker and Harold, trudged into the room, dragging behind them a large object draped in black fabric. Nathan didn’t recognize the silhouette. Whatever it was, he was probably better off not knowing.

  “Ah, now, there’s a pretty sight,” Matthias crooned. “Allow me to introduce Aphrodite.”

  At a signal from Matthias, one of the minions removed the black fabric, revealing a medieval-like cannon with a futuristic makeover. The cannon’s bulk—about the width of a man and half the height of one—sat on a wheeled frame. A touchscreen was on one side, and a long metallic barrel about the diameter of a soda can was aimed at the center of Nathan’s chest.

  The metal on the contraption had a green tinge—most likely Metallikite. He pitied the other species of shifter that had been forced to produce so much of the metallic byproduct. His own chains and shackles had to be made of the same metal; he could have broken through any other kind of standard steel or industrial alloy long ago.

  Matthias released Nathan’s hair and sauntered over to the cannon. “Isn’t she a beauty?” he whispered, stroking the barrel as if it were a beloved pet. He leaned in, and for a moment, Nathan thought the man was about to plant a kiss on the contraption. Instead, Matthias rested an arm on the body of the cannon and swiveled to face Nathan.

  “Aphrodite has the ability to project up to thirty thousand lumens of concentrated beams, equivalent to those filtered from Venus.” He waved a hand. “Now, I don’t know how many lumens you sliths need to shift. Some scientists in a lab somewhere did all the testing to figure that out.”

  Nathan’s jaw clenched, imagining the types of “testing” that would have taken place.

  “But whatever the number, these clever scientists came together to design and build Aphrodite to make our jobs easier.” Matthias beamed, like a child showing off his new Pokémon cards. “Wanna take a look inside?”

  He pulled a small flashlight from his coat pocket and shone a beam down the barrel. Nathan flinched as the reflected light flashed into his eyes. Once he adjusted to the brightness, he recognized the style of the refracted flecks of rainbow dancing around him.

  Matthias stalked over and tapped on Nathan’s pectoral muscle, just above the stab wound. “How ironic—that nothing can cut or penetrate your thick hides except the death of one of your own.” He grinned, his pearly whites glistening.

  Nathan thought of five different ways to bash the smirk off this Erathi scum’s face.

  Matthias studied Nathan, his scrutiny long and agonizing, as if his intelligent eyes were stripping Nathan bare, exposing every piece of him straight down to his soul.

  Another tremble convulsed Nathan’s body, and Matthias’s eyes hardened. His nose crinkled and his mouth twisted into a sneer. “Damn prideful, ignorant creatures. You’re all the same. You think I can’t break you?” He whipped the back of his hand across Nathan’s face. The crack of Erathi skin against Veniri hide echoed around the room. “You think I can’t break you!”

  Nathan’s head snapped from side to side as Matthias landed several more blows. Despite the toughness of his hide, his skin still stung with each slap and throbbed with each punch.

  Without warning, Matthias dropped his fist, breathing hard. He shook out his hand and broke into maniacal laughter. “You all think if you resist changing, we can’t harvest your shards.” He poked the flesh between Nathan’s neck and shoulders. “Like the nice big ones that come from here. Or from here.” He prodded the backs of Nathan’s elbows. “And my personal favorites, here.” He laid a finger on Nathan’s knee. “With Aphrodite, I’ll break you, slith. And you wanna know a secret?” He leaned in, his face about an inch from Nathan’s nose. “Even if you die during the harvest, Aphrodite ensures you don’t turn back to your human form.” He groaned. “Lord knows how much of a pain in the ass it was to get a job done with you wretched things dying on us all the time. Of course, we could still use whatever was left inside. You saw that nice necklace my wife was wearing? I harvested the knuckle and wrist bones myself. But it’s your large shards that are in high demand. Like most things in life, size matters.”

  Nathan glared at Matthias. “You done with your monologuing yet? I’d prefer you go back to the hitting.”

  Matthias’s shark grin returned to its full dazzling glory. He shouted over his shoulder, “Brecker, fire her up,” then took a few paces backward, never taking his eyes off Nathan. He winked. “Trust me, you’re gonna love this.”

  Nathan smirked. “Whatever you say, sweetheart. Let’s get this over with.”

  A hum resonated from within the cannon’s barrel, growing louder and louder. Nathan recognized the melodic tune hidden beneath—the song of his connection with Venus, of his energy and the life that Venus gave his inner being. His body shivered as it serenaded his core. With all of his focus on the reverberation through his eardrums, he no longer understood why he resisted the haze. He needed to change. Needed to shed this Erathi form and embrace his true Veniri form.

  A stab of pain in his shackled wrists brought him abruptly back to his senses.

  He couldn’t, wouldn’t haze. Veniri shards were sacred to his race. The dishonor of one’s shards being broken or severed often left one ostracized or even banished by their own family.

  But his race be damned. He owed them nothing. He would remain strong to honor himself, and those he loved most. He would deny Matthias and his goons the pleasure of profiting off his corpse. Drawing on his dwindling energy stores, he fought back the desire to haze that was threatening to overwhelm him.

  The humming grew even louder, and a blue glow from within the cannon’s barrel came to life. A beam of blue light coated Nathan’s skin like the warmth of the sun on a winter’s day. The beam’s energy restored his own inner energy. Blood in his muscles pulsed. His strength slowly returned, and fatigue began to slip away. The gaping flesh around his stab wound itched as the speed of healing increased.

  “See, I told you you were gonna love this,” Matthias yelled over the noise. “Just wait till you see what happens next.” Matthias tapped a few buttons on the touchscreen.

  After a moment, the humming rose to a scream. A piercing screech in Nathan’s ears demanded every fiber and cell in his body change. The blue energy beams seared his flesh, turning from a soft, r
estorative force to fierce, undiluted energy.

  A roar escaped Nathan’s lungs as his body writhed and shuddered, desperate to escape the light and its shrill squeal. The need to haze overshadowed any coherent thought. He was on the verge of accepting defeat when the light and noise vanished.

  The room switched from illuminated teal back to incandescent yellow. Blood—metallic and sweet—flooded Nathan’s mouth as he choked on garbled breaths. He would have collapsed into a heap on the floor if his restraints had allowed it. The pain in his wrists was a relief compared to the torment from moments ago.

  Nathan blinked. The afterglow of Aphrodite’s beam hovered in front of his eyes.

  Matthias’s face moved into Nathan’s view. “Hmm, not even a fang showing. I’ve never seen a slith with the extent of control you seem to have. They all turn within seconds of Aphrodite’s light.” His eyes squinted into slits. “How are you doing it?”

  Nathan glared. “Just kill me and get this over with,” he said, his voice hoarse.

  A corner of Matthias’s mouth curled. “Don’t tell me you’re giving up so easily? I know you’ve got more fight left in you.”

  Nathan closed his eyes and rested his chin on his chest. He would die soon, and he was done wasting his last few moments on these twisted games.

  A woman’s face flashed in his mind—delicate features, hazel eyes staring lovingly into his, a warm hand on his face and him turning into her palm to kiss it. The memories sent a stabbing ache through his heart. His usual reaction was to push them aside; the pain always became unbearable if he allowed his mind to linger. But in this moment, these memories were heaven.

  “Fine,” said Matthias. “If you won’t fight for yourself, then how about for her?”

  Her? Nathan’s eyes flew open.

  Matthias held out his phone, allowing Nathan to study the screen.

  “No,” Nathan breathed.

  On Matthias’s phone was a digital bounty order with a photo of Violet.

  “No!” Nathan lunged. His chains rattled, jerking him to a stop an inch from Matthias’s face.

  Matthias’s demented grin widened. “There, that’s what I want to see.”

  “Stay away from Violet!” Nathan roared, as loud as his damaged vocal cords would allow.

  A flash of movement against the far wall caught Nathan’s attention. Sagan was now standing straight, his gaze fixed on his father.

  “Please don’t let him do this,” Nathan said to Sagan. He didn’t care if his tone was begging and desperate. “Don’t let him hurt Violet. She was your sister’s best friend. Please, don’t do this.”

  Matthias chuckled. “I won’t do this, but the man I’ve sent after her will. In fact, he’s probably at her college right now.”

  “You’re lying,” Nathan hissed.

  “Dad, is that true?” Sagan asked.

  Matthias ignored him. “Don’t worry. I’m sure my man will make it quick. It’s likely she won’t even feel it when he slices her throat in her sleep.”

  Sagan flew to his father’s side and said in a loud whisper, “What happened to ‘we don’t kill our own’?”

  Matthias glared down at his son. “I’m fully aware of the code, son.” He leaned into Sagan’s face. “And what do you care, hmm?”

  “She . . . she was Lyla’s friend,” said Sagan, still in a whisper. “She was there for Lyla when she—”

  “You mean she was there when Lyla was butchered?”

  “But we don’t kill—”

  “Don’t lecture me, boy!” Matthias roared, spittle spraying with each word.

  “But, Dad—”

  Matthias backhanded him. Sagan’s head snapped to the side, and he sprawled back into the concrete wall. The force of the blow sent the phone flying out of Matthias’s hand, and it hit the wall above Sagan’s head. In any other scenario—one that didn’t involve him being chained in a concrete room with psychotic hunters—Nathan might have been impressed with the shatterproof case that allowed the device to bounce off the wall and land unharmed at Sagan’s feet.

  “Brecker!” Matthias barked. “Turn that thing back on, and this time, make sure it’s at double strength. We’ve got harvesting to do.”

  Sagan scuffled into a position that reminded Nathan of a cat about to pounce.

  In a whirl of black, Matthias spun and threw his Diamantium dagger directly at Sagan. It sped through the air in a glittering blur, embedding into the concrete wall next to his son’s head. Sagan’s blue eyes glazed in shock. He raised his hand to his ear and inspected the crimson blood smeared on his fingertips.

  Matthias pointed at him, his jaw set in an expression of pure arrogance and victory. “Stay down, boy, or the next one goes through your throat.”

  Nathan fixed a glare on Matthias. Surely the guy was bluffing. But something in his expression suggested otherwise.

  The boy fisted his bloodied hand and resumed his slouch against the wall.

  “It’s ready,” said Brecker.

  “Good.” Matthias rolled his shoulders back. “Now. Where were—”

  A man burst into the room and ran over to Matthias.

  “What did I tell you about interrupting me,” Matthias hissed.

  “But, boss,” said the newcomer, “he’s here.”

  Matthias held up one hand to Brecker, who paused. “What do you mean he’s here?”

  “I mean he’s actually here. He says she found them and wants to set up a meeting.”

  Matthias’s whole countenance lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. “Take me to him.”

  “But, boss, what about the slith?” Brecker asked.

  “Start without me.” Matthias strode out of the room without a backward glance.

  Nathan sized up the three remaining men. Sagan had slid to the ground, an image of defeat, his arms crossed over his chest. A trickle of red made a path down his neck and over the black chain visible above his shirt collar.

  Brecker lounged on the cannon and smirked at Nathan, his hand poised over the touchscreen. “Oi, Harvey, get the crystal cutter ready.”

  “Hold up, I’ve got ’em here somewhere.” The man disappeared behind the cannon, and a clatter of bangs and clangs ensued, followed by the reverberant ring of metal being dragged across concrete. Harvey brought out what looked like massive bolt cutters, the tips caked in dried Veniri blood.

  Dread pulsed through Nathan’s chest. He needed to get out of here. His wretched Aphrodite experience had given his body a small surge of restoration, but he was over-buzzed, as if he’d just been pumped with a hefty dose of caffeine and methamphetamines.

  He tugged on the chains—definitely Metallikite. There was no point attempting to break them. His best chance was to take out these hunters before they hit the switch, but he was out of reach. Even a kick would only hit air. Swinging might gain him a few inches, but they would guess what he was up to before he achieved enough momentum to do anything.

  They would have to come to him.

  Of course, if he succeeded in incapacitating these three, there was still the problem of breaking free of the chains. But forget that for now. One problem at a time.

  Nathan flexed his tingling fingers in a useless attempt to get the blood recirculating. Wincing, he grasped the chains just above the cuffs, then tested his numb hands’ ability to hold up his body weight. Brutal pain shot from his shoulders straight down his spine, but it was nothing compared to the impending onslaught of Aphrodite’s light.

  Once he confirmed he could hold himself up, he stood on one foot and kicked at the puddle beneath him. A gush of blue splattered over Brecker.

  The hunter bellowed and held his arms out like a scarecrow. Trails of Nathan’s blood trickled down his face and dripped from his beard, and his features twisted into a look of pure revulsion. He tried wiping his mouth on his sleeve, then realized the fabric was also coated in gore.

  Harold rushed out from behind the cannon. Upon seeing the state of Brecker, he barked out a laugh. Brecker turne
d to him, lips pursed, as Harold continued to point and jeer.

  Nathan kicked at the puddle again, this time aiming for Harold.

  The laughter died, cut off by a gargled outburst. Harold stood frozen, his gaping mouth displaying a tongue that was now a solid shade of teal.

  It was Brecker’s turn to bellow with laughter.

  “Why, you filthy—!” Harold spat and sprayed gore and saliva, punctuating a furious string of profanities. “Ugh, who knows what kind of diseases are in that filth?” He fixed his gaze on Nathan, his nostrils flared and his jaw jutting forward. “You’re gonna pay for that, slith.”

  A corner of Nathan’s mouth twisted into a sneer, and he kicked the puddle again. Harold roared with rage, then rushed him.

  “Oi, now, Harold!” Brecker stepped between them and shoved a firm hand against Harold’s chest.

  “Outta my way! I’m gonna gut him!”

  Harold tried to push past him, causing Brecker to slip back slightly on the slick ground.

  That’s it, thought Nathan. Just a few more inches and he’d be able to—

  Brecker punched Harold in the face. “Pull yourself together! He’s baiting you.”

  Harold stumbled back, moaning and clutching his nose, and Brecker grasped the front of his jacket. “Stop mucking about. You can gut him after he’s been harvested.”

  Harold glared at Nathan.

  Nathan grinned back.

  A tinkling melody echoed around the room. All eyes turned to Sagan. Matthias’s phone was still on the ground at his feet, vibrating softly.

  “Oi!” Brecker called over to him. “You gonna sit there and sulk all day, or you gonna make yourself useful?”

  Sagan ignored him and picked up the phone.

  Brecker tsked and shook his head. “Useless kid,” he mumbled.

  Panic began to surge through Nathan as Brecker repositioned himself back at the touch pad of the Aphrodite cannon. His dirty trick with the blood hadn’t worked, but he chanced another go and kicked another spray of blue.