Looking back, her words were rather prophetic.
The Firstamentalists had protested and petitioned to have all supernaturals wiped out; their rallies were epic, according to my mother. The rise of the Aegrus virus in the early 2000s had served them well, producing enough fear that in the end it had enabled them to get a Wall built along the forty-ninth parallel, mimicking the two Walls in Eurasia. The supernaturals were asked nicely to stay on their side of the border while the humans stayed on the other. For the most part, it worked.
I’d always lived on the southern side, of course, in Seattle, and while there was some crossover, it was not so much that I’d ever noticed. Like the nurse in Whidbey had said, there were only a few reasons supernaturals were allowed to cross the Wall. Specific jobs being one of them. They weren’t allowed to just roam into town to grab a coffee from Starbucks and then head back on over the Wall by lunch.
As far as I knew, no one in my life was a Super Duper.
Until the old man who started sitting outside my bakery. Every morning he was there, his eyes reminding me of my brother, the deep, dark brown so soft and gentle. Even the clothes he wore with his hoodie and torn-up jeans reminded me of Tad. So every morning I gave him the leftovers of my baking from the day before. I didn’t know he was a Super Duper; I learned that later in the worst way possible.
The last time I’d seen him, he’d clutched at my hand. “Bless you. You are an angel in disguise. A merciful angel. I wish—” He’d coughed and slid back to his spot holding up the wall. I’d waved him off with a smile, feeling like I’d done my charitable duty, more than I would have ever done as a Firstamentalist. I handed him the bagels I’d brought out for him and went back into the warmth of my shop. Of course I’d washed, but the virus . . . it worked so fast it was already in me just from that small contact. It had been too late for me the moment I’d handed him the bagels.
My dreams shifted and faded, grew in intensity and color until it felt like I was inside a rainbow, swimming through the colors as they washed over my bare skin. Waves of pleasure rolled through me, and I arched toward the sensation, the warmth trickling over my limbs like fingers plucking at a harp. Roger, was I with Roger? No, sex had never been this good with Roger; this thought-numbing sensuality was like nothing I’d ever experienced. I went with it, let it flow through me, embracing it for all it was worth.
I wanted to clutch the sensation to me, and a low, deep laugh rumbled from nearby. “Alena, you are going to be my finest work. A goddess in disguise. Beautiful and luscious in every way. Submissive, malleable. Sheer perfection.”
The man’s voice slipped away and I slid back into my dreamland, fading in and out. Perhaps this was death? Had I died and not realized it? Consciousness slowly grasped hold of me and pulled me out of the fog. Not dead, then. I’d been sleeping. My skin was hot and flushed from the wild sensations, and I ran a hand down my side, the skin as soft and smooth as whipped butter.
Naked. I was naked. I groaned and slid the same hand up and over my chest.
Flesh and muscle twitched under my fingers, and I opened an eye. Above me a ceiling fan swirled lazily enough that a few flies played dodge the blade with it. I sat up and my sheet fell to my waist. I glanced down and my jaw dropped.
“Oh, my.” I had a waist again. I had breasts again and they were stunning: at least a C cup with gravity-defying perkiness that I’d only ever dreamed about.
Merlin hadn’t been kidding. Perfectly formed, I skimmed my hand over my body, reveling in being able to move, to feel my skin without worrying it might tear or hurt. I tipped my head, and a swath—yes, an actual swath—of straight blue-black hair slid over my back and shoulder. A shiver of pleasure cascaded through me on the heels of the hair. I’d been a brunette before, a dark brunette, but I’d never dyed my hair despite always wanting that perfect midnight tone.
My mother would have had a fit of epic proportions if I’d—
I lifted a leg and the sheet fell the rest of the way off. My legs were longer. How was that possible? Longer, muscular yet still unbelievably feminine. I pointed my toes and let out a soft sigh. I was going to look fabulous in heels.
I’d always wanted to wear heels. Another no-no taboo I was about to break. Even after I was kicked out of the church, I’d tried to live the tenets. Just in case they let me back in.
I caught my lower lip with my teeth. Maybe this was it. This was the slide into a den of depravity I’d always been warned about. First I’d dye my hair, then I’d wear heels. The next thing you know, I’d be shooting people and taking their money while I whored myself on the street corner and kicked puppies as they ran by.
“Stop it, you know that’s ridiculous,” I said out loud. I slapped a hand over my mouth. My voice wasn’t even my own. I pulled my hand off and cleared my throat. “Alena.”
Saying my name didn’t sound right. My tone was huskier, and sensual, like my voice should have been whispering naughty things into the confessional closet at church. Things that would make Pastor Wrightway want to renounce his vow of celibacy.
“I’m going to hell,” I purred.
I sat like that for a few minutes, not thinking. Just breathing and taking the fact in that I’d actually allowed myself to be turned. That I was one of the monsters now. Tears prickled at the corners of my eyes and dripped down my nose.
“What have I done?”
The whoosh of a door opening, reminding me far too much of my hospital room, brought my head up. Merlin stood in the door, deep-brown hair slicked back as before. No suit jacket, though, just the white shirt and bright-red tie. The throat of his shirt was open, showing a little of his skin, and the tie was loose as though he’d just gotten off work. I realized I sat there naked as the day I’d been born. That is, if I’d been born a fully grown and rather well-endowed woman.
An undignified “Eeeek” escaped me as I lunged for the sheet on the floor, yanking it up to my neck.
Merlin smiled. “I’ve seen it all. Some of my best work, I believe.”
“You’ve seen me naked?” The words were a strangled squawk of disbelief and horror. “I’m a married woman!”
“Well, not really. You see, there is a fine point of the law.” He stepped farther into the room and began a slow pace back and forth. “Even though you didn’t die, the government can’t acknowledge you are still alive. If they did, they’d have to acknowledge there is a cure for the Aegrus virus. Which is why part of the deal when I turn someone is I have to make them look different enough that they won’t be recognizable. To those who know you well, they’ll know you. But to the world, you are no longer Alena Budrene. Just Alena now.”
Merlin stopped and held a hand out to me. “But that’s not really the point. The point is by law you are now a widow. Even though you were the one who died.”
Widow. “But I’m not dead. So my marriage vows still count.”
He shrugged. “Not in the eyes of the law. And now, you don’t own your house. Or your bakery. Or the bank account with all your money in it.”
I put a hand over my mouth while still clutching the sheet to my chest. Oh my word. What had I done? I didn’t even know what the judicial and penal system held for me as a Super Duper. A small part of me protested that Merlin had lied to me. He’d told me I could have my bakery. But now he’d just said that I didn’t even own it anymore.
Merlin walked across the room to a small door and flung it open. “Much as I personally love the look you have going on with the Greek goddess and a mere toga, you can’t go out like that. You’ll cause a ten-car pileup. Pick something out here.” He pointed at a closet. “It’s part of the deal, and we’ll get your starter package ready for you at the door.”
I slipped off the bed and wobbled a little as I walked to his side. He was a couple of inches taller than me, but I had no idea just how tall I was anymore. Maybe five ten, maybe taller. Closer to six feet actually, if where my head came to the closet door was any indication.
Inside the clo
set was an array of clothes in every color and kind of material. I reached out and brushed a hand over them: satin and silk, brushed cotton and leather. The selection of colors was big, but not the styles. “They’re all shirts. How am I going to make that work, exactly, without any bottoms?”
“They’re all dresses,” he corrected.
My jaw dropped and I spluttered, “I can’t wear these. I’ll be showing all my bits!”
He chuckled. “Buy what you want when you get out of here. But you have to wear something in order to leave. Unless you want to go naked?”
I reached out and touched the first dress that caught my eye. A tan color my mother would have chosen for me because of my brown hair and eyes.
“Not that.” Merlin pushed my hand away. “You have green eyes now, that color is far too bland for you.” He rifled through the closet a moment before pulling out a dress and shoving it at me. “Just try it on.”
I clutched the material to me and stared as he walked out of the room. At the door he paused. “And put on heels too. You’ve got a great ass, show it off.”
The door closed behind him, and I stood there clutching the frilly concoction he’d shoved into my hands. I dropped the sheet and pulled the dress on, moving on autopilot, doing as I was told. Strapless, the bodice was tight enough to push my new breasts into perfect cleavage. But it was the bottom that had me smiling.
Sure, it was too short and stopped above the middle of my thigh, but the skirt was fabulous. Black crinoline held the green material of the dress out just enough to accentuate how tiny my waist was now above the swell of my hips. The skeletal image I’d been only a short time before was replaced with a soft hourglass. I smoothed the dress along my new curves and peeked into the closet. At the back was a pair of four-inch green heels that sparkled with glitter.
“Oh my heck, Mom would flip out if she saw me in these.” I grinned. “Fricky dicky, why not?” I grabbed the shoes and slipped them on. With only the slightest of wobbles, I walked to the door and took a breath. “New life, Alena. New life, new you. You can do this.”
Right, as if it could be that easy.
I put my hand on the doorknob, turned it, and pushed it open. I stood in a long wood-paneled hallway. The ceiling was easily ten feet tall, and from it hung a skinny chandelier with mismatched gems that cast light here and there. As the only light source it didn’t actually illuminate the entire hallway, only the center. I stepped forward, my heels clicking on the wood.
The steady thump of music and distant sounds of laughter and voices tugged at my ears and reverberated in my chest. A pulse of life that called to me, even though the music was anything but proper. The words were low and seductive, the rhythm that of things done in the darkest of the night between sheets of silk. My whole body flushed with the imagery that ran through my head.
Focus on something else. Anything to stop hearing the music so clearly. To my right hung several old paintings of men in black robes with severe faces and Merlin’s nose.
Where was this place? Was it his house?
The hall ended in another door, this one with no knob. On the other side, the music played and the voices were clearer. A party, then? I put my palms against the door and pushed.
The door flicked open, and several faces turned toward me. All men, all Super Dupers by the teeth, eyes, and claws I caught glimpses of. A fricky-dicky den of iniquity.
I was going to hell in a handbasket woven with my own fingers.
Eyes widened, and two of the men grinned as they stepped in my direction. The door swung shut and I let it. I took several steps back into the hall before I forced myself to stand still.
That was the old Alena. The one who would have run from any Super Duper for fear of what it would do to her soul. “You get out there. You’re one of them now,” I whispered.
The words didn’t really help.
Like diving into the coldest part of the river, I stepped forward and pushed my way through the door. Several of the men whistled.
A hand grabbed my wrist. “Beautiful, where the fuck have you been all my life?”
“Don’t you use that language with me.” I jerked my hand out of his. That was what I thought I was doing. But he hung on to me, his fingers digging into my arm. Taller than me by a foot, he was easily the biggest man in the room. Or not so much a man. A faint, musky odor permeated the air, and I breathed it in. A picture flickered in my mind.
Thick fur, big paws, rounded ears, sharp claws and teeth.
Maybe some sort of bear shifter then, because obviously he wasn’t only a bear. Even I knew that much.
“Now, now. Don’t get sassy. Merlin said you’re a good girl. Obedient. Well trained. He said you would be as submissive as they came—”
I jerked my hand again, this time putting my weight into it, flexing my new muscles for all I was worth. Bear Boy gripped me, but that did him no good as he sailed through the air, all the way across the room and into the wall. He hit a picture about five feet in the air and slid down in a groaning crumple.
The room went silent and I swallowed hard. Time to make myself clear. “I said, don’t use that language with me and don’t touch me.”
The men backed up a step. Except for one.
Merlin. He grinned at me. “What did I tell you? Beautiful, exotic, and they all think you’re human.”
“Shit, you didn’t tell us she was one of us.” A blond man grumped. His blue eyes roved over me as he put a tongue to a fang. Vampire. I couldn’t stop the gasp.
“I’m leaving. And I am not one of you.”
Laughter followed me as I strode across the room to the only door I could see. Of course it was locked. I looked over my shoulder at Merlin. “Either open it, or I’ll open it for you.”
“Look at her, getting all tough chick. Two minutes as a Supe and she’s bossing us all around.”
Merlin walked toward me, a key hanging from his finger. “Your benefactor isn’t going to like you leaving before he can say hello. And don’t you want your welcome package?”
That did stop me. “You aren’t going to tell me who it is?”
“No.” He grinned. “Which means if you want to meet him, you need to stay here.”
A slow, low hiss slipped out of me, a noise that came out of nowhere and sounded a great deal like . . . no. That wasn’t possible, because there was no Super Duper that was reptile, not that I knew anyway. I put a hand to my throat.
“What did you do to me?”
Merlin took a step back. “You are my special snowflake, Alena. One of a kind. Or close to it.”
Behind us the door opened. “That wasn’t the deal, Merlin. You were supposed to make her a naga, like me.”
I knew that voice. Five years, a hundred years, it wouldn’t matter. I knew him.
CHAPTER 5
I spun around and stared. His hair was jet black and his eyes green; his facial structure was different, as was his voice, but I would know him anywhere. My best friend was alive and standing right in front of me. I flung myself into his arms. “You’re alive.”
“That’s what they tell me.” Tad patted my back and then set me away from him. “Damn, sis, Merlin did good on you.”
I frowned. “You saying I was ugly before?”
The men behind us laughed, and Tad shook his head, his hands raised in surrender. “I meant I wouldn’t recognize you. Even your voice is different. But we still look like siblings.”
He was right. His voice was familiar to me, but he had the same shift in coloring that I’d had. Brown hair and eyes had slid into black hair and green eyes. He grinned, showing off a pair of tiny fangs. Oh dear, that wasn’t going to be good. Fear clutched at me, and I fought to keep myself from cringing away from him.
“You’re a vampire?”
“No. A naga. Different species altogether.”
I blinked stupidly up at him. “A what?”
“A snake man. Same as Merlin made you, right, Merlin?”
Merlin nodded, bu
t I thought I caught a twinkle in his eyes. “Of course. You asked for her to be a snake girl like you. That’s what I did.”
Tad patted me on the arm. “Listen, it’s a pretty good deal. I can shift, don’t have to drink blood, and am somewhat long-lived.” He slid an arm over my bare shoulders and tugged me tight to his side. “Thanks, Merlin.”
“You know the deal,” Merlin said. “You owe me.”
I pushed away from Tad. “Wait. Stop.” I turned and pointed a finger at Merlin as my questions tumbled out of my mouth. “You paid for this? How? Where did you get that much money? Why didn’t you come home? Where’s Dahlia?”
Merlin shook his head. “She’s not your friend anymore, Alena. She’s a bloodsucker, and they stick to their own kind. You can’t talk to her.”
“Why not?” That was stupid; what reason could he possibly have for me not talking to her?
The blond vampire leaned back in his chair and put his legs on the round table in front of him. “Because every supernatural group sticks to their own kind. Vamps to vamps, wolves to wolves, witches to witches. There is no crossover. Except here when Merlin has his poker nights.”
The men in the group all nodded in unison. Poker night. I looked closer at the scene in front of me. The chips on the table, the cards, the drinks.
I backed up, bumping into Tad. He put a hand on my shoulder and steered me to the door. “Come on, I’ll explain everything.”
I let him lead me out of the room, through the door, and into the street. The house we stepped out of was tall and narrow, painted a deep red with a black door. The windows were shuttered and nailed closed. On the lawn was a sign: “Merlin for Hire.”
My brother dragged me down the street as Merlin waved from the doorway. “You forgot your welcome package.” From inside the house the men laughed, a rolling sound I knew I shouldn’t have been able to hear from that far away. “Come back when you want it. We can discuss things then.”
“What could I want to discuss with him?” Dang, it was like I couldn’t stop with the questions. And no one was answering me. “Tad, stop, I want to know just what is going on. What did he turn me into? Back there I . . . hissed. Like a snake. Am I a naga thing like you? That’s what I am?”
[Venom 01.0] Venom & Vanilla Page 5
