Author: Kalayna Price

I grimaced. He was reaching.

The swish of scales on cement sounded behind me, and I realized I’d been hearing it for quite some time. The scent of snake musk grew stronger, and I ripped my gaze away from the center of the room and the master vampires about to erupt in what I could only guess would be a bloody war.

Akane, still in the form of a giant, eight-foot serpent, drew herself up behind me. Her V-shaped head darted forward, flashing fangs as large as my fingers. I reeled back, my shoulder crashing into Nathanial’s back and bouncing off like he was a stone wall. I was vaguely aware of him whirling around as the snake latched itself to my left bicep.

Pain tore through my arm, pulsed down to my fingers, up over my shoulders. A scream ripped from my throat, tasting of equal parts fear and fury.

Nathanial grabbed the snake. He tried to rip her free but only managed to jerk me forward. I lost feeling in my left arm. The numb tingling rushed over my shoulder, spreading fast. I screamed again and pain shot through my right hand.

The joints in my knuckles snapped, bent backward, and the skin at my fingertips split as my claws burst free.

I didn’t wonder. I didn’t hesitate. I just struck.

My claws slid through Akane’s thick scales, opening four large gashes. The snake jerked, her fangs taking a chunk of my skin with them. She slithered backward as I pressed my clawed hand over the gaping bite.

The snake bunched, drawing herself in until she was the length of a five-foot woman again. Then the skin down her belly split, and a woman tumbled out, the cast-off skin once again just the shed hide of a reptile. Blood dripped down her back from four gashes in her shoulder. A stream of foreign words spilled from her mouth.

“Is this your declaration of war?” Tatius asked the Collector, his voice a quiet blade that cut through the tension and heralded worse violence. Nuri, Cormac, and Mama Neda had moved forward sometime during the attack to cover Tatius’s sides and back. “You’ve accused my people without proof, but your snake undeniably attacked my companion.”

“No.” There was true franticness in the Collector’s voice now. She threw her arms out, her palms parallel to the floor.

“Back down, all of you.”

The numbness in my arm spread across my shoulder blade, and my ribcage tightened in a vise of tingles. Dark blotches filled my peripheral vision and blocked out the vampires on either wall. Nathanial was an arm’s length from me, and I forced my suddenly leaden feet to lift. I stumbled on the first step as darkness crawled across my vision.

Arms wrapped around me, keeping me from falling. The silky material of Nathanial’s tux brushed my cheek, and I clung to him. My vision cleared enough that I could read the concern written on his face when he tipped my head back.

“Is she well?” Tatius’s voice was closer than I expected.

I jumped and regretted the motion immediately as the numbness traveled to my legs—which promptly gave out beneath me. Only Nathanial’s arms kept me upright.

“I feel…” I shook my head, pressing my face harder against Nathanial’s chest. His heat barely reached me—or maybe my cheek was going numb. “Poison?”

“Impossible,” the Collector said, or at least, I thought it was her, but her voice sounded far off. “Vampires are immune to intravenous poisons.”

I blinked, trying to clear my vision, but it was dark.

Immune? Maybe to normal poisons, but what about supernatural poison? I had the feeling I’d be the first to find out.

“Hermit.” Tatius’s voice sounded like he was yelling from deep inside a cave. “Take her to my—”

It was all I heard before the suffocating darkness pressed down on me, and the world vanished.

Chapter Fourteen

I was having one of those dreams where I thought I was awake but I wasn’t. Or at least, I hoped it was a dream.

A woman I didn’t know knelt beside me, intently darning something out of my view. She’d killed what looked like a seal and wore the skin around her shoulders like a hooded cape.

So intent on her work, she didn’t notice me studying her, and I watched as she pulled a wickedly large needle up and straightened the crimson thread.

“Who are you?” I mumbled, my lips too cracked, too thick, to form the words.

The woman jumped. “She’s lucid.”

Who is she talking to? I tried to turn and see, but my head lolled uselessly to the side. A hand caught my chin and Nathanial’s face snapped into focus. Strands of his long hair had fallen loose of his ponytail and hung chaotically around his face. Blood stained the once-white tuxedo shirt.

“You okay?” I asked.

Some of the tension lines between his eyes eased as he leaned down and kissed my forehead.

I tried to pull away. “Stop that.”

“You are most definitely yourself again,” he whispered into my hair. Then he straightened enough to give me a haggard smile. “Drink this.”

Nathanial lifted a large thermos to my lips. I tried to take it from him but couldn’t figure where my hands were. Okay, now that’s disturbing. Nathanial ignored my distress as he upended the thermos. Room-temperature blood poured into my mouth.

I coughed, nearly choking on the wash of blood. “Who did you kill?”

“It is from a blood bank. Drink it.”

He lifted the thermos for me again and I swallowed another mouthful. It was terrible: lukewarm and full of chemicals. Anticoagulant? Maybe. I swallowed another mouthful and gagged. Like drinking pond sludge.

I forced myself to swallow another mouthful. What is going on? Where am I? The last thing I remembered was the snake woman. She bit me. Poisoned me.

I twisted away from the thermos. “What happened? After?”

“Do not worry about it right now. Drink.”

I shook my head and tried to push the thermos away. Or I would have, if either of my arms would have worked. What the—

I looked down. I was in a large, freestanding tub. Thick ropes bound my right arm to a metal handrail. The seamstress leaned over my left. I paled, gawking at the slit she was stitching that ran from my armpit to my wrist. And I was wrong—she wasn’t a seamstress.

“What are you doing? Who are you?”

The skin-clad woman looked up from her work. “You can call me Biana. Gil asked me to help.” She noticed me looking around the room and shrugged. “She got a little green when things got bloody. Once I’m finished I’ll fetch her.”

Biana didn’t have a drop of blood on anything other than her hands, but I was certainly bloody. My dress was a mess: the vinyl stretched, torn, and covered in gore. The corset was missing completely. Blood covered my legs and coated the base of the blue tub.

There were also splashes of blood on the tiled bathroom floor. I frowned. A bathroom I didn’t recognize, but the design was familiar enough. The large tub took up most of the room, leaving just enough space to comfortably walk around the rim. A walk-in shower stood recessed in one wall. There was no toilet or light fixture. A small, floating globe over Biana’s shoulder provided the light she sewed by. I’d never seen the room before, but it bore Nathanial’s taste preferences—not Tatius’s.

“Where are we?”

“How much do you remember?” Nathanial asked, opening another bag of blood.

“Akane attacked me.” The only memories I had after that were vague flashes of fear and rage. A nightmare? Nathanial didn’t say anything, and I frowned at him. “You look like you’ve been through a fight. Did the Collector attack? What happened? Why am I sitting here in my own blood like a butchered pig?”

Biana and Nathanial exchanged a glance. Neither answered me. Okay. Gritting my teeth against the pain, I attempted to lift my mangled arm. My fingers flexed, but the twitchy movement was all I could accomplish—too much muscle and tendon damage.

“Don’t squirm,” Biana snapped without looking up from her work.

Nathanial forced the thermos at me again. I drank as much as I could stomach. This is ridiculous. “If you aren’t going to tell me anything, can you at least untie my good arm?”

Nathanial nodded as Biana knotted her thread. She backed away a little too quickly. “I’ll fetch Gil.” She all but ran from the room, letting the bathroom door slam behind her.

I frowned after her, but Nathanial didn’t comment. As he leaned over me to undo the rope, I stared at his ruined tux.

Is all that blood mine? This close I could smell the blood clinging to him. Most of it smelled acrid, like the snake woman, but a warmer, fresher scent also reached my nose.

“You’re bleeding,” I whispered.

Nathanial cut his eyes toward me, his agile fingers still fighting the rope. “Not badly.”

“What the hell happened, Nathanial?”

The bathroom door cracked open and Gil peeked into the room. “Are you sure she won’t go psychotic again?”

Psychotic?

“Kita will be fine.” Nathanial sent Gil a cold look. “Come in or out.”

Gil and Biana crept into the room, but they lingered around the door. The air filled with tension as the rope fell to the floor. What? Did they expect me to jump up and attack them?

Nathanial’s fingers massaged the skin the rope had bitten, and feeling returned in tingles of pins and needles. Still no one answered my questions. I growled under my breath, and Gil and Biana took a step back.

“Is anyone going to tell me what happened?”

“You were poisoned by a hebi no josei,” Biana said.

Oh yeah, that clears everything up. “A what?”

“A hebi no josei. We thought they were extinct.”

I frowned at her. “You’re a scholar like Gil, aren’t you?”

Biana cocked her head to the side and shrugged one shoulder. “Gil is a scholar-trainee; I’m a scholar. I graduated from the university a hundred years ago. I specialize in studying skinwalkers.” At my blank look she fingered the seal-skin around her shoulders. “There is little known about the skinwalkers, and they are quite rare. Some myths exist in human tales. Have you heard of selkies?” I shook my head, and she stroked her fur cape again. “Well, the point is that you were poisoned. A single drop of the hebi no josei’s poison is lethal to most living things. If you were mortal, you would be well and truly dead.”