Page 69 of Rawest Venom

“Her. For your people. For West Side. Make your choice.”

He won’t look at me, though I’m boring holes into the side of his face. A tear falls over my heated cheek as I stare, unblinking. Has he betrayed me?

By the light of the moon, his Adam’s apple bobs slowly as he swallows, then pulls out his two vials, holding them in his open palm, studying them curiously. They’re filled now, which means he must have prepared them again after we used them in the forest near Laurelwood. Full-out panic grips my insides as I fear his current plan.

There’s just… He wouldn’t… If he…

I know that if I die, I’ve lived happiness with him. To die by his hands would be almost worth it. Could I run? There are no trees for cover in the nearest vicinity. I would likely be faster than the figure in front of us, but not my love. He doesn’t have weapons. If he came at me, I’d be forced to fight him.

“I need to see the vials, make sure which you are giving to her.”

Cal’s long legs stride over to the caped woman, but as he nears, he stumbles on his shoe, dropping the two vessels. Neither shatters, but the figure bends to pick them up. Cal straightens with his back taut and stiff. Lifting each small glass underneath her mask, the woman sniffs one at a time.

“Here. This is your venom. This is your anti-venom. Use your poison and make your sacrifice for the survival of West Side and Gnarled Pine Hollow.”

Cal turns to me, his eyes dancing with what looks to be longing or love. As if he’s about to do me a favor.

“No. No, Cal. Wait.” He holds up a finger to his lips as I take two steps back.

“Shh. Jane…” Cal has rarely, if ever, called me that name. If he did, it always seemed in jest with an edge of rancor to it. Holding up a vial to my face, he approaches closely and places his lips to my forehead. His arms wrap around my waist, tugging me close to him. “I love you,” he whispers, the heat of his breath warming my skin. The words caress me and calm my racing heart for only a moment.

Before I react, he takes the vial and downs it himself as I shriek in horror. A peal of laughter echoes as he takes a few steps away from me and widens his arms in a display of showmanship, rolling his hands out dramatically.

“Ta-da!” He bends at the waist in front of the owl, tucking his arms in a perfect bow. Dropping on all fours, I scramble to find the anti-venom vial to give him, but I can’t find it in the dark.

He can’t sacrifice himself! I can’t do this! The terror that I felt among the sequoias threatens my heart again as I frantically search for a solution.

Some ungodly chortled sound escapes from the owl mask as the caped figure clutches her throat with one bony hand. Raising up on my knees, I stare at the scene in front of me, unable to move, while Cal continues to chuckle like he’s never done something funnier. His fingers wipe the tears he’s made underneath his eyes. My head shakes with confusion.

What is going on?

“V, come here. Come here, puppet. It’s over.” Helping me to a stand, his arm steadies me around the waist as the woman in crimson tears off her cloak, some of the fabric tangling around her long arm. She’s struggling to breathe, the wretched mechanical vibrations tearing through her mouthpiece and out into the night like shrieking banshees.

Ripping off her mask and spitting out her voice modulator, she trips backward, collapsing on the ground, still gripping her neck with both hands as if this will help the air enter her lungs. Her black hair whips into her mouth, covering her shocked face before her entire body begins seizing violently. Foam erupts from her mouth like a volcano in erratic spurts as her torso jerks rapidly, each torsion of her body causing more liquid to bubble out of her lips, down her chin. Blue eyes bulge out, seeking any gulp of oxygen and not finding any as they stare straight upwards into the sparkling sky.

And despite the horror in front of me, I can’t bring myself to care even slightly about Alpha dying before my eyes.

Cal swiftly kneels next to her head, but instead of helping her, he mockingly gets close to her face. “This is what traitors get, Daisy. I’ve made the correct sacrifice now. For West Side. Who do you work for? Hmm? Before you choke to death…tell me. Who?”

Her convulsions have quelled, with only twitches lingering in her limbs, and a few raspy breaths escape as she chokes on the last of the liquid in her throat. Eyes fixed and unseeing, she stills. Cal waits by her body forseveral moments, but there’s no movement. The wind blows her long hair away from her face.

“Fuck!” Raking his hands through his hair, he tugs at the ends in frustration. Just as he moves to stand, one last whisper comes from her mouth, the tranquil air carrying the sound out around her until it’s heard clearly.

“Kill Amalthea.”

Twenty-Six

CALUM

Glee? It’s a funny word. One syllable. But it’s better than any hallucinogen I’ve ever tried.

I’m giddy. Two syllables.

No, I am ecstatic. Three!

Fuck, I’m intoxicated. Intoxicated on happiness.

There’s some pleasurable sensation that reaches me in the depths of my sleep. Such an odd state to be in, half conscious. Between wakefulness and dreaminess. Something that eluded me for so many years now seems like a normal occurrence with my Vera wrapped in my arms every night.

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