Shards of Venus

by Tjalara Draper

  Sagan sat at the end of the kitchen counter, away from the group. His elbows rested on the countertop as his eyes focused on some faraway thought. He played with a section of the black chain poking up from his shirt collar, rolling it between his fingers.

  Since that day at the creek, he’d clammed up. He still tagged along on some of their chores and activities but only observed from the side. Other times he would disappear for hours, showing up again at dinnertime.

  Violet’s apprehension that he would leave altogether grew each day. She hadn’t had the courage to talk to him since that day at the creek, but she didn’t necessarily feel awkward around him. His presence, as well as Gus’s and Autumn’s, soothed the unease that grew inside her every time she was by herself or trying to fall asleep at night.

  Every now and then, her anxiety became so strong she thought she would either faint or throw up. Whenever that happened, she’d force herself to focus harder on her task or get the cousins to tell another story of their mischief from when they were kids. Anything to help push the feeling away.

  “I’m going to my room,” announced Autumn. “Let me know when dinner’s ready.”

  “Sure thing,” said Violet, not looking up from her macramé.

  “So”—Gus lowered his voice so only she could hear—“how are you holding up? You know, after the whole ‘Thane thing’?”

  Violet’s chest pinched. “I’m fine.” She looped a strand of rope into another knot, a little tighter than necessary.

  “Okay, good. I just wanted to make sure, because I know you really liked him, and—”

  “I don’t want to talk about it, Gus.” She looped another knot, yanking it even tighter than the last.

  “Okay,” said Gus in almost a whisper. “I’m sorry for bringing it up. It’s just . . . I’m a little concerned about you. That’s all.”

  Violet dropped the ropes and rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands. “I know, I’m sorry.” She gave him a small apologetic smile. “I just can’t deal with it all right now. I just . . .” She sat up straighter to take a huge breath into her lungs, then slumped with the heavy exhale. “You’re right, I really did like him. There are some days that I really miss him. I miss being with him, and the person I was with him. With him I felt . . . free. Uplifted. But then I think about his tattoo and what that means, and I just . . . I just hate him.” She winced and played with a rope’s fraying end. “You probably think I’m stupid.”

  “No, not stupid,” said Gus. “I think being confused is totally understandable. He took advantage of you and your trust.”

  “Yeah. So did Nathan.” She held back a sob. His betrayal hurt the most.

  Gus’s brow creased and he shook his head. “I still don’t get it. What was his deal? Why would he be friends with the guy that kidnapped you? It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “I know. I’ve been going insane trying to figure it all out.”

  “Yeah, I bet. Well”—he patted his shoulder—“anytime you need a shoulder to cry on, just let me know.”

  Violet chuckled. “Thanks, Gus.”

  “Dinner’s just about ready,” called Skye, wiping her hands on a tea towel. “Sagan, do you mind starting to serve while I set the table?”

  “No problem.”

  Gus hopped up and headed for the back door. “I’ll go get Mom, Dad, and Uncle Cruz.”

  “And I’ll go get Autumn,” said Violet, dropping her macramé thread.

  She went and knocked on Autumn’s closed door, but there was no answer.

  “Autumn, dinner’s ready.”

  Silence. Violet waited a few seconds, then turned the door handle and peeked inside.

  Autumn was sitting on her bed with her legs outstretched. Her laptop rested on her thighs, and she had on her Bluetooth over-ear headphones.

  “Autumn, dinner’s—”

  Violet’s eyes widened when she realized what her friend was focusing so intently on. Autumn held her gold metallic clutch a few inches from her face—the same one from the black light party—and whatever was inside cast a bright orange light onto Autumn’s face.

  “Autumn? What—”

  Autumn looked up, slammed the clutch shut, and stuffed it under her pillow. “Violet! What are you doing? Heard of knocking?”

  “I did knock.”

  “Oh. Maybe knock a little louder next time.” Autumn forced a grin.

  After a few awkward moments, Violet finally said, “Um, dinner’s ready.”

  “Okay, cool,” said Autumn, making no sign of leaving. “I’ll be out in a few seconds. I just got, um . . .” She stabbed a finger at her laptop. “I just got to finish up something here.”

  Violet slowly nodded but couldn’t quite stop herself from glancing at Autumn’s pillow, where she’d hidden the gold clutch. “Okay. I’ll, uh, see you out there.”

  “Cool.” Autumn bobbed her head enthusiastically.

  Violet closed the door behind her and frowned. What was Autumn up to? Making her way back to the kitchen, she realized she was too hungry to focus on unraveling the enigma that was her friend. She might fish for answers later.

  She joined Sagan behind the kitchen counter, her shoulder bumping into his as she reached for a plate.

  “Sorry,” she said.

  “It’s fine,” he replied, cutting into a loaf of warm bread. Tendrils of steam escaped with each new slice.

  Violet reached for Skye’s signature dish of spiced rice—one of her favorites. Star anise and bay leaves, along with a spiraled cinnamon stick, could be seen through the condensation on the underside of the glass cover. A cloud of aromatic steam billowed upward when Violet raised the lid, her mouth watering.

  But when the scent of cinnamon hit her nose, her stomach lurched, and she couldn’t stop herself from gagging. She covered her mouth with both hands, the lid slipping from her fingers and falling to the ground. She barely registered the crash and spray of shattered glass.

  Her world spun. Distorted echoes hammered her eardrums. Sagan’s face blurred before her, his eyes wide and his mouth forming incoherent words.

  And then blackness flooded her vision.

  A steady beeping dragged Violet from sleep. She was nowhere near ready to be awake. She reached an arm out in a groggy attempt to switch off the alarm, but something caught her hand.

  Opening her bleary eyes, she saw an IV tube running from the top of her hand to a machine, which was the source of the beeping. She sat up and blinked, and the infirmary room of the community compound came into focus, the place where Gus’s mom worked and where Sagan had spent most of his time when they first arrived.

  “It’s about time you woke up.” Gus sat in a chair nearby.

  “What happened?”

  He came over and perched on the edge of the bed. “Well, long story short, we were about to sit down for dinner when you decided to pass out.”

  “What?” She rubbed her forehead, trying to remember, then moaned. “Oh, no. I broke Skye’s glass lid.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Gus waved a hand. “She’s more worried about your feet.”

  “My feet?” She winced, now aware of a slight ache in her soles and a tightness that went from her toes to her ankles. She threw off the blanket, the sudden movement making her head spin.

  “Easy,” said Gus. “You better take it slow.”

  She waited a second or two for the world to become still again, then drew her legs up and inspected the neat bandages wrapped around both feet.

  “You stepped on the glass before you totally blacked out. You’re lucky Sagan caught you before you hit your head on anything. He was the one who carried you here.”

  “How long have I been out?”

  “Well, a while. It’s been two nights.”

  “Two nights?”

  “Yeah, it was a bit of a worry. Mom’s been running some tests to find out what happened. She said she should have some news today.”

  The door flew open and Autumn burst in. “Finally! You�
��re awake!” She ran over and wrapped Violet in a hug. “You had me worried, you jerk.”

  Violet chuckled and hugged her back. “It’s good to see you too,” she said through Autumn’s dreadlocks.

  Behind Autumn, at the foot of the bed, stood Sagan.

  “Hey,” said Violet, “I hear you’re the reason I don’t have a cracked skull.”

  He put his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “Your feet are cut up pretty bad.”

  Autumn rolled her eyes. “She’s trying to thank you, doofus.”

  Gus laughed, and Sagan shot them both a look. His mouth twitched, then his eyes found Violet’s again. “You’re welcome. How are you feeling?” The corners of his eyes creased with concern.

  “I’m fine.” Violet nodded, but the movement started the world spinning again. “I think,” she added, grimacing, and slumped back on the plump pillows.

  “What’s wrong?” Gus asked.

  “I, um . . . I’m feeling dizzy.”

  Gus grabbed the chart at the end of the bed. “Do you feel sick, like you’re about to throw up?”

  “No. At least, I don’t think so.”

  He read the beeping machine and jotted down some notes on the clipboard, then proceeded to check her blood pressure, temperature, and heart rate.

  “Since when did you become Doctor Gus?” Violet asked.

  “It’s his hidden talent,” said Autumn, beaming with pride.

  “What? I thought macramé was his hidden talent.”

  Gus smirked. “I, ah, started helping my mom out when I was a kid. It began with simple things, like handing her a bandage, but I kind of developed a knack. When I got older, she’d let me do simple stuff if she was busy with another patient, and then she’d check over what I’d done when she got back.”

  He was pulling out a new IV bag from a nearby supply trolley when Dawn and Skye came in.

  “Hey, you’re awake,” said Skye.

  “Glad to see you’re up,” said Dawn, her relief evident in her smile. She and Gus started conversing in a medical jargon Violet hadn’t even realized Gus was fluent in. He offered the IV bag to his mother, but she gestured for him to continue hooking it up himself.

  “There, that should do it,” he said after he was done. He turned to Violet. “As far as I can tell, everything should be okay. You were a little dehydrated and hypotensive due to not drinking enough fluids over the last few days, so I’ve started another IV fluid to correct this.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “You should feel better soon.”

  Violet’s eyes bugged.

  “You poor thing.” Skye pressed a hand to Violet’s forehead. “You’re probably hungry too. I’ll go and whip you up something to eat.” She planted a kiss on the top of Violet’s head before leaving the room.

  “Thanks, Gus,” said Violet, still a little amazed to see him in such a different role. She turned to Dawn. “So, do you know why I passed out?”

  Dawn’s mouth pinched into a thin line. “Gus, Autumn, Sagan, will you give us a few minutes?”

  She received immediate protests from Gus and Autumn, and Sagan looked as if he would rather eat hot coals.

  “It’s fine,” said Violet, raising her voice over the arguments. “I don’t have a problem with them being here.”

  Dawn placed her hands on her hips, giving the cousins a pointed look. Violet had a feeling they were going to receive a lecture later.

  “I did receive some test results today,” said Dawn, turning her attention back to Violet. “Some were a little perplexing, but others make sense due to your symptoms.” She clasped her hands together, and her lips pinched again, this time into a tight smile.

  “Violet, you’re pregnant.”

  Epilogue

  Matthias checked the time again, releasing a low growl at the glowing numbers on the watch face. How much longer did they have to wait for these damned things? He peered impatiently into the surrounding trees, beyond the bright beams and deep shadows cast by the floodlights from the vehicles behind him.

  A soft whimpering issued from a square crate on the ground, about two-thirds of Matthias’s height and made of green-tinged Metallikite. Gradually, the noise grew into a shrill, animalistic squabbling.

  “Shut up!” barked Axel. He kicked the crate again and again, but the sound only grew louder.

  Matthias squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Axel, would you please—”

  A high-pitched shriek quaked though Matthias’s eardrums. His eyes flew open just as Axel yanked his trident out from one of the gaps in the crate.

  “I said shut up!” Axel roared.

  The shriek fell to a quiet sniffling that stopped a few moments later. A small trail of pearlescent liquid trickled out from the crate, pooling among the leaf litter.

  Matthias sighed. “Axel, would you please stop damaging the product. There isn’t going to be much of it left if you keep spilling it.”

  Axel grunted. “Damn noise was grating on my nerves.”

  “And the kicking made everything so much better,” said one of the hunters behind them.

  Axel spun as someone else snickered. He pointed his trident in the direction of the hecklers. “Another word out of either of you and I’ll use you as bait for the next hunt.”

  The snickering stopped, but Matthias didn’t have to turn around to imagine the scornful looks Axel was probably receiving. Axel was a fierce and impetuous hunter, but his brutish personality didn’t earn him much respect from the others.

  Twigs and leaves snapped and crackled under Axel’s heavy boots. “How much longer are we going to stand here? We’ve been waiting for hours. Bet those blasted things have gotten themselves lost.”

  Matthias inhaled sharply through his nose and spoke through gritted teeth. “What are the chances of them being lost when the whole damn forest knows exactly where we are from all your racket?” He gave Axel a pointed stare, and the man was at least smart enough to don a sheepish expression and cease fidgeting.

  “I’m just saying,” said Axel in a more hushed tone, “I think we should pack up and leave, take the product to one of our established clients. You know, stick with our own. Since when do we make deals with our prey anyway? First the human girl, now this.” He kicked the crate again but with less force than before. “Do we even know what they’re going to do with it?”

  Matthias raised his shoulder in a half shrug. “As long as they’ve brought our payment, I don’t care what they do.”

  Axel grunted. “Even if they plan to use it against us?”

  “How could they possibly use it against us?” Matthias didn’t care for Axel’s conspiracy theories, but even pointless conversation was better than this damned monotony.

  Axel scrutinized the crate. “Well, you know what they say about the Yranum and immortality. We can’t have our prey figuring out how to become immortal, now, can we?”

  Matthias scoffed. “We haven’t figured it out yet. What makes you think they will?”

  “But—”

  “I see something. Over there,” said one of the hunters behind them.

  Matthias flicked his attention to the trees ahead.

  “I see it too,” said another hunter.

  “There’s another over there.”

  The murmurs and chatter picked up as movement in the shadows advanced toward the clearing. Matthias became hyperaware of the crystal machete strapped to his back and the collection of other weapons secured to his body.

  After several seconds, the shadows solidified into a number of humanoid silhouettes that stepped into the floodlights.

  Axel gave a low whistle. “Look at all that glitter.” He leaned in closer to Matthias and whispered, “I say we take ’em. That’s more than enough Diamantium for my retirement fund right there.”

  Matthias ignored him, examining the Veniri. Maybe twenty stood before them, with likely double that number hidden out of sight. All the ones in plain view were in full shifted form. He had to give them credit; it was m
uch harder to track a slith without knowing their “human” identity.

  Not impossible though.

  None of the Veniri wore any clothing; their iridescent scales and Diamantium shards were on display, from head to toe. Tiny rainbows glinted across the ground, tree trunks, and foliage from the plethora of large spikes extending from the creatures’ knees, elbows, and collarbones.

  The dazzling glimmers pulled an image to the forefront of Matthias’s mind: a young girl’s face, her expression anguished yet hopeful. She reached out to him, but before she could touch him, the sentinels of his ambitions and deepest desires locked the memory away. Only her shrieking scream lingered in his mind.

  Daddy, please!

  Matthias’s hands clenched into tight fists at his sides. He forced his attention back to the scaled demons before him. Hate churned with ferocious potency in his chest, and his fingers itched to take hold of his own Diamantium spike holstered by his hip.

  After he got what he wanted, he would slaughter every last one of these abominable creatures on this goddamned earth.

  Several Veniri flicked their tongues out of their triple-fanged mouths. Others hissed, their otherworldly eyes locked on Matthias. He frowned, scanning the scaled creatures a few times. Something wasn’t right.

  All of them were male.

  He folded his arms. “Where is she? I made it very clear she was to be here this time. No queen, no deal.”

  Two of the Veniri broke rank and walked forward on their three-toed feet, their movements lithe and slick. A few hunters had described them as raptor feet, like in dinosaur movies, but to Matthias they were just oversized chicken feet waiting to be lopped off at the knee and served up as entrees in Yum Cha restaurants.

  They halted about a foot away from Matthias, close enough for him to make out the complex patterns of teal, white, and black scales on their hides. The bright illumination at the base of each Diamantium spike almost made him squint.

  Matthias shifted his hands to his hips. With three swift moves, he could have these things gutted and twitching out their last moments of mortality on the ground.