Serpent's Kiss

by Deborah Cooke

Thorolf couldn’t stand it when women cried.

  To see Viv crying in frustration just about ripped his guts out. She was always so strong and resilient, always razzing him about being emotional.

  That single tear killed him.

  Chandra had bewitched her and trapped her, once again removing a woman he cared about from his life. It didn’t matter that Viv wasn’t his destined mate. He cared about her. She deserved better than this. They could talk and part ways. She didn’t have to die.

  And he couldn’t believe all that crap about Tisiphone’s vengeance upon the Pyr, not when he saw Viv cry. He and Viv had been pretty good together. If she’d wanted to finish him off, she’d had plenty of chances to do so. There had been lots of nights that he’d slept deeply by her side. She’d had a thousand opportunities.

  That she’d never taken one told him that Chandra was wrong.

  He stared at Viv in the mirror. “You’ve lost some weight,” he said.

  She smiled sadly. “No woman can ever lose enough.”

  “We’ll get out of this and go for dinner,” he offered. Even if his only accomplishment was to get Viv to stop crying, he’d be doing something right. Besides, he was starving. “We were always going to check out that Japanese place a block over.”

  She raised her eyebrows to look him over. “But you have to turn it on a bit to go there. No flip-flops or sneakers.”

  She’d stopped crying anyway. He could work with that.

  He winked and gave her his best smile. “Hey, you think I can’t turn it on?”

  She laughed and leaned her forehead against the glass barrier. “I know you can.” She took a deep breath and raised her hand to the other side of the mirror, spreading her fingers flat. “I’ve missed you,” she murmured, her voice breaking slightly.

  Thorolf hesitated only a moment before he matched his own hand to hers on his side of the glass. He felt a twinge of guilt because he hadn’t really missed her that much. She’d been fun, but not his mate. He had to admit that she wasn’t nearly as attractive as Chandra, never mind as intriguing. He’d been marking time.

  He’d been messing around with Viv instead of stalking Chen.

  He tried not to think of Viv as a distraction.

  But she’d been one. There was no escaping that fact. If he’d done as he’d planned when he came to Bangkok, he would have hunted Chen down and finished him off. He would have done right by the Pyr, and Erik wouldn’t have banished him. He could have achieved something and made a difference.

  Sex with Viv hadn’t been nearly good enough to give up all of that.

  Thorolf hated that he could see the point of his father’s argument. He still didn’t agree, and he didn’t think that what had happened had been right, but there was nothing like a firestorm.

  And he’d walked away from his. Thorolf felt like a failure, no matter how he looked at it.

  He also had the definite sense that Viv wanted something from him, like she was trying to manipulate him. Maybe Chandra was right.

  Maybe he should go back and talk to her.

  But Viv looked like she’d start to cry again.

  “I’ve missed you, too,” he said with a resolve he didn’t feel, then looked deeply into her eyes to reassure her. Darkness flickered in their depths, and he shivered in dread.

  That made no sense. This was Viv. His lover, friend, room mate and fellow partier. He knew Viv. He trusted Viv.

  He really wished she’d stop crying.

  Even if he wasn’t so sure anymore that he should have trusted her.

  Was the firestorm right?

  He kept looking, didn’t even blink, and he felt the mirror ripple under his hand. He stared more determinedly and Viv stared back, neither of them breathing, as the mirror began to tremble. Viv’s eyes brightened and she looked as if she might crack a smile. Thorolf held her gaze, willing her to abandon the tears. The mirror vibrated as if it would shatter at any moment, but he didn’t look away.

  If he’d been better at beguiling, he might have summoned flames in his eyes and convinced her to smile. Thorolf stunk at beguiling, though. He’d practiced when he was with the Pyr, but he hadn’t bothered while hanging out with Viv. Never mind those twenty-two months that were missing out of his life.

  He wished, perhaps for the first time, that he’d learned to better use his innate abilities.

  He wished he could shake the new idea that Viv had been a distraction.

  But now it seemed he couldn’t avert his gaze from hers. He felt snared.

  When he saw the tear of blood form in the corner of Viv’s eye, he didn’t believe his own eyes. The mirror began to shake violently. It seemed to be rippling, like the surface of the ocean.

  A tear of blood formed in the corner of the other eye, and he fought the power of her gaze. He was mesmerized, though, unable to look away, unable to avoid seeing her transform right in front of him. The mirror’s surface bucked under his hand, and he heard the first crack.

  Then to his horror, Viv wept tears of blood.

  Thorolf seen tears of blood only once before.

  In that vision.

  The one in which Viv was one of the Erinyes, hunting the Pyr.

  Chandra was right.

  “No!” he shouted, but it was too late. The mirror shattered into a thousand pieces, shards flying everywhere as Viv erupted from its imprisonment.

  En route, Viv shifted shape to one of those old women with bat wings. The blood ran down her face onto her sagging breasts and her hair turned to a nest of writhing black snakes. Thorolf stumbled backward over the shards of mirror as she burst forth. He was shocked when she laughed and bared her fangs.

  “They do say no good deed goes unpunished,” she said, then changed shape to a green serpent that rose from its coiled tail, poised to strike.

  It was a huge snake, one that Thorolf had seen before. It hissed and its eyes glittered. Its fangs were enormous and dripping with venom.

  Snakes!

  He turned to run but the serpent launched itself at him, its substantial weight landing on his back. They fell together, the serpent’s tail winding quickly around his legs to trap him. Thorolf struggled as he panicked. He caught the viper’s head in his hand and tried to crush its skull. It thrashed in his grip as venom dripped from its sharp fangs. The drop of venom hissed and burned where it landed on his skin. It sent a frisson of heat through his whole body, both electrifying him and paralyzing him.

  It was happening again.

  Thorolf saw the apartment he’d shared with Viv. This was the serpent that had bitten him twenty-two months before.

  The serpent that was really Viv.

  Chandra hadn’t lied to him.

  And he’d been too stubborn to believe in the firestorm.

  Thorolf rolled and slammed the serpent’s head into the ground, just as he had once before. The viper hissed and writhed, more slippery and powerful than he’d expected. Its tail jabbed into his jeans, driving into his genitals so hard that he loosed his grip. It wriggled free, then rose over him. It seemed to laugh, and Thorolf saw a ghost of a gleeful Viv above him.

  Then the serpent dove for his throat, fangs bared.

  Thorolf recalled the same viper diving for him in the apartment. He knew exactly where it would strike, because he felt the old wound from the fangs burn on his arm.

  The instant lasted forever, stretching out to feel longer than it really was, as if the serpent would taunt him with his powerlessness. Thorolf was reminded of a car accident he’d been in once, the whole incident happening in slow motion, inevitable and inescapable. He couldn’t do anything, couldn’t escape, couldn’t shift shape, couldn’t save himself. That first drop of venom had immobilized him on contact.

  He heard Chandra shout, but her voice could have come from a thousand miles away. “She’s mine!” she cried, and he had no doubt she was in her Valkyrie form.

  Then the serpent fell on him, crushing him beneath its weight. The fangs sank into the same two wounds on h
is arm and the wounds burned as the venom poured into his body. Thorolf closed his eyes and would have screamed, but he couldn’t make a sound.

  This definitely would be his last mistake.

  * * *

  Chandra feared she was too late.

  She saw Thorolf fall backward and the serpent poise to strike. She wished for her crossbow, but it was gone forever, thanks to Chen. Instead she had only the knife jammed in her belt. She flung it at the serpent, cursing herself for letting Thorolf be alone for even a moment.

  If anyone could find trouble in Myth, it had to be the dragon shifter chosen to save the Pyr.

  “She’s mine!” she shouted, hoping her presence would give Thorolf more encouragement to fight.

  He didn’t move.

  Her knife flashed as it spun end over end. She kept running toward him, determined to wrestle down the serpent and smash its head if necessary. Her shot was sure and the blade sliced the viper’s head cleanly from its body. Its body continued to twitch, even as blood spurted from the wound. The serpent became Tisiphone, then Viv, then the snake again. All versions of Viv were decapitated. Only when the body stilled and the shifting stopped did Chandra heave a sigh of relief.

  Her quest was completed.

  She’d saved the Pyr from Tisiphone’s vengeance.

  She could leave Myth and the mortal realm, get another assignment.

  She was shaking when she turned to Thorolf, expecting him to give her a hard time about how long she took. She was ready to give him a hard time for getting into trouble, even in Myth, probably for the last time ever, but the words froze on her lips.

  He was out cold.

  No, he’d been bitten.

  She had arrived too late.

  Those two holes in his arm were brilliantly red, burning red, swollen and angry. She could see the glisten of venom on the wound and knew it was inside his body as well. She fell to her knees beside him and closed her mouth over the wound. She sucked then spat out venom, repeating the move over and over and over again.

  Snow cried out three times in rapid succession, and Chandra recognized her brother’s sign. It might be time to leave Myth and this realm, to return to Asgard, but she ignored the bird. She had to help Thorolf. She tried to surround the wound with her hands, keeping the venom from spreading, but she could see that she was failing.

  She worked, aware that he was becoming colder with every passing instant. His breathing became more shallow and his heartbeat both slowed and became fainter. She heard Snow make a different cry, but didn’t have time to attend the falcon. She put her hand on Thorolf’s chest and the silvery radiance of the firestorm sputtered to mere sparks.

  She pulled the last arrow from her quiver, worked the point free and discarded the shaft. Berkana was the rune carved on this one. She felt it beneath her thumb. A rune sacred to her, a rune symbolic of regeneration and new beginnings. Once again, it was perfect for her purposes. She put it in Thorolf’s mouth and held his jaw closed, willing him to take power from the stone.

  Was it her imagination that the firestorm flickered with new life?

  It must have been because a heartbeat later, Thorolf began to shift shape, rotating between his human and dragon form. Chandra knew that was a sign of distress, but it was better than him being dead. She placed both of her hands on his chest, desperate to revive him. The sparks of the firestorm sputtered and faded to mere embers.

  “No! You can’t die!”

  “But he will die,” a woman said from beside Chandra. She jumped in shock, then looked up to find Chen beside her in his female guise. The woman in the cheongsam with the red fingernails held Snow’s tethers in one hand, while the bird flapped in a futile effort to escape. Chen seemed amused by the falcon’s efforts, then turned that cold smile on Chandra. “Even better, he’ll die slowly.”

  “How did you get here?”

  “Either you left the door open, or the Pyr are a step closer to becoming myths themselves.” Chen didn’t seem troubled by that possibility.

  “Won’t that doom you, too?”

  The woman laughed lightly. Her eyes were hard, though. “Don’t worry about my survival. I have everything I need now.”

  To Chandra’s horror, Thorolf stopped shifting. He remained unconscious and in human form, looking so pale that she feared he really was dead. The tattooed spirals covered his torso and his arms, darkening and thickening of their own accord. Chandra was alarmed to see that his skin would be completely black with the tattoo soon. What skin was still visible became paler and paler. The two marks on his arm from the serpent’s bite glowed red, pulsing in a way that was just not right. He looked sepulchral, as far from his usual vital self as possible.

  “I’ve been close enough to taste immortality before. Now I have the last piece of the puzzle.” Chen flung Snow into the air, then shifted shape in brilliant blaze of blue.

  He was in his dragon form again. His broken horn had healed, and had healed so well that it might never have been injured. He watched her look, then bared his dragon teeth to make a hungry smile. He swept her aside with his tail, then bent and picked up Thorolf, cradling him with the care one would show to an infant. “I doubt we’ll meet again,” he said and inclined his head to Chandra with a formality that grated on her nerves.

  As if she didn’t count.

  As if she couldn’t touch him. Chandra desperately wanted to prove him wrong.

  Snow screamed, then circled back toward them with talons extended. It was time for Chandra to go to Asgard before the portal closed.

  But Chandra wasn’t returning to Asgard. Not this time.

  She was going with Thorolf.

  She ducked the bird and evaded its grasp. Snow cried and circled around again, swooping low with a gleam in her eye that meant she wouldn’t miss this time. Apollo must have instructed the bird to ensure that Chandra wasn’t left behind.

  When Chen shimmered blue, Chandra guessed that he was going to disappear and spontaneously manifest elsewhere.

  He wasn’t taking Thorolf without taking her. She leapt toward Chen and locked her arms and legs around Thorolf. Chen screamed but he’d already started to shift through space and time. He wasn’t going to forsake his prize, not anymore than Chandra was going to be abandoned. He cuffed her and she kicked him. She held fast to Thorolf though, hoping it wasn’t her imagination that she felt his heart skip a beat.

  She felt Snow’s claws slide through her hair, then the whirlwind caught her up in its dark circuit again. Chandra hung on tightly, certain that if this was the last time she endured this journey, it would be plenty.

  She felt suddenly free.

  She’d been a hostage in Asgard for so long. She’d been dutiful for so long. She’d done what she was told and pursued what she should. She’d been a mission machine, but now, she was choosing with her heart.

  And she was glad.

  That was when Chandra realized the full import of her situation. She’d declined Snow’s collection of her, which might mean she could never return to Asgard. She might never see those of her kind again. She was surprised by how little it mattered to her. In fact, she felt relieved.

  Maybe it was time for a new adventure.

  One as the mate of a dragon shape shifter.

  Provided she could help him to survive.

  One thing was for sure: she was off the map, and there were definitely dragons here.

  * * *

  Spontaneous manifestation wasn’t gentle, that was for sure.

  They landed hard in a dark cavern, slammed into a stone floor so hard that Chandra knew she’d be bruised from head to toe. The impact didn’t awaken Thorolf, which couldn’t be a good thing. The flames in the wall torches simultaneously leapt high on all sides, as if welcoming their hero.

  Chen. It had to be his lair.

  Chen was still in dragon form, his scales shining in the firelight. He snatched Chandra up, then flung her into a cage at the farthest point of the cavern. The firestorm’s spark died, a
nd she knew she didn’t imagine that he smiled.

  “I’ll let you watch,” he said to her, his eyes shining in anticipation. “Either my magic will triumph and he’ll turn Slayer, or he’ll die.”

  Chandra bit her tongue, as much as she wanted to antagonize the old Slayer. She managed to look fearful, hoping to feed his confidence that he was winning. She could see the broken arrow lodged between his scales, though. He’d pulled out the shaft and broken it off at some point after their fight, but his scales looked disrupted there. Chandra believed there was even a shard of the arrow head left in his skin.

  If there was, she could work with it. Chen wasn’t the only one with ancient magic on his side.

  He settled back on his haunches, his gaze flicking between her and Thorolf with satisfaction. His golden eyes shone like gems in the night as he breathed slowly, and Chandra knew that he was completely surrounding Thorolf with a dragonsmoke barrier. She crouched in her cage and took stock of the situation.

  They were in a cave, clearly, and one that she sensed was far beneath the earth. She had no idea whether it was in Myth or in the realm of mortals, but it didn’t matter. It was filled with old magic, dark magic, magic evil enough to make everything inside her clench. It was snatching magic, selfish magic, magic that changed the world and didn’t care about the consequences. She preferred more earthy magic, magic that accepted the rhythms of life but encouraged them in chosen directions.

  Chen was mortal. He might have longevity, thanks to his nature and to the Elixir, but ultimately, he had to die. It was the rhythm of life.

  She would encourage that death to happen sooner.

  Chandra didn’t like that Thorolf was in the middle of a spiral burned onto the stone floor. It gave her a bad feeling.

  That might have been because there was another spiral burned into the floor of the cavern. There was a dragon in the center of it, but he was certainly dead. He looked to be a shell of his former self, a faded husk sucked dry. She wondered who he’d been, and why he’d been sacrificed.

  Thorolf still looked dead, and she suspected he was supposed to share the first dragon’s fate.

  Even given their dire situation, even knowing that she could have left and returned to the other gods, she knew she was in exactly the right place.