Fangs and Fennel (The Venom Trilogy Book 2) by Mayer Shannon

Author:Mayer, Shannon [Mayer, Shannon]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
ISBN: 9781503942103
Publisher: 47North
Published: 2017-01-10T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 11

We took the Viking’s truck and drove as though demons chased us all the way back into town, though there was no one behind us. I drove and Dahlia sat with the silver flask clamped between her hands, her hands on the lid. My two wooden spoons lay somewhere on the side of the mountain, evidence that I was more of a killer than I’d ever thought possible.

Dahlia kept glancing at me. She’d open her mouth as if to speak, but nothing came out. Finally, when we closed in on house number thirteen, she managed to spit out a question.

“What happened back there? Why did they stop chasing us? They don’t give up easily.”

I pulled over, thought better of it, and pulled back onto the road. “I don’t think we should park this in front of where we’re staying.”

“They know where you live, Alena,” she pointed out. “And what the hell happened? Talk to me. There is no way they would have just given up.”

I slowed the truck and backed up, the engine rumbling as I hit the throttle. We reversed so fast I ended up partly on the sidewalk, the truck half in and half out of the road. I slammed it into park and slid out of the driver’s side. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Dahlia met me at the front of the truck. “Why? Did you shift? No, you couldn’t have; you still have your clothes. What the hell happened? You’re whiter than—”

“A bowl of flour?” I offered with a weak smile.

She rolled her eyes. “How bad could it be? I mean, it’s not like you killed any of them.”

I stepped back and tucked my hands into my pockets. “Yeah, it could be that bad.” I took a step and then another, moving quickly toward the house. “Come on. It’s getting close to morning.”

Dahlia fell into step behind me. I knew she wouldn’t be upset that I’d killed them. Surprised, yes, but not upset. She didn’t understand what it meant to me to break that rule.

Being raised to believe that killing was a mortal sin, that my soul, whatever was left of it, would be cast into utter darkness when I died . . . that prospect was not exactly comforting. Besides that, killing people was just . . . wrong. Even if I hadn’t been raised as a Firstamentalist, I would have believed it was wrong. Killing people was wrong.

As if reading my mind, Dahlia touched my arm. “They would have killed you, and then me. I don’t know much about church stuff, but I’m sure there is something about defending your own. Isn’t there? Like looking after your family?”

I hunched my shoulders as I stepped into the house. I listened for heartbeats and picked up two upstairs. Sandy’s by the flutter of the first, and . . . Beth’s. A sigh of relief flowed out of me. She had to have seen what Theseus was up to. That was a weight off me.

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