Page 81 of Home to the Hollow

The Queen Bee emerges from an office near the back, arms crossed over her chest as she stalks towards me. Her platinum hair is natural, as are the perfect button nose, wide blue eyes, and bow shaped mouth. Amy won the genetic lottery in her family as she’s naturally built like pinup Barbie while her sisters, Henrietta and Jasmin, had to have surgery to achieve the same look. Her father is also ethereally beautiful, a fact that couldn’t have hurt him in his career as a diplomat.

“Well, well. If it isn’t the Hester Prynne of Whistler’s Hollow.” She looks over at the entirely female, extremely chic staff of her tiny hometown paper as if they’re the editorial department of the Times. “Ladies, it isn’t often we have such an infamous visitor. Did you make her feel welcome?”

“None of us have a dick, so doubtful,” mutters another blonde, standing immediately to Amy’s right.

My eyes narrow. That’s her lieutenant—just as Reese was in high school. This woman serves as the right-hand toady to Amy’s army of Skippers. I haven’t seen her ex-capo since I arrived, but I assume that much like OJ and Sherilynn, Reese and Jillian will make themselves known eventually, probably with their own little cadre of sycophants. “I have no idea who this flea is, Amy, but you’ve made a grievous error with this stunt. I’ll have your paper, your family fortune, and everything you’ve ever held dear by the time I’m finished with you. I amnotthe powerless girl you tortured in the past.”

Her laugh tinkles like a vicious fairy as she strides forward to stand less than a foot from me. Amy ignores Kali’s escalating snarls and Jekyll’s angry cat noises; instead, she bats her lashes at me. “Jolene Whitley, you are and always have been an overfed peon. Your love affair with undesirables put you on my radar, but I’ve enjoyed every moment of your comeuppance. Today’s headlines are just the beginning of a delicious campaign to run you out of my town for good.”

That does it.

My vision goes black and the fury inside of me feels like it's bursting free. Before I can pass out, shrieks fill the air and I blink, clearing my eyes enough to see an enormous black constrictor snake with almost metallic looking scales fall from the ceiling onto Amy. The women around her scatter, too chickenshit to help as they scream loud enough to wake the dead generals. I watch as the snake coils itself around her from head to toe—putting its length at a minimum six feet with a body as thick as my thighs—and her horrified pleas turn to gasps and choking.

Goddamnit, the fucking thing is going to kill her and I’m going to get blamed for sure.

Considering she printed a headline in this morning's paper declaring me a ‘Southern madam’ running a ‘cathouse’ who is a danger to the morality of our town and its children, there’s not a snowball’s chance in Hell that people aren’t going to light pitchforks to come after me. I shake my head, trying to clear the burning rage so I can focus on the situation at hand.

Snakes can’t ‘hear’ externally, so to speak, but they sense vibration through their jaws. Or, that’s what the yogi in India taught Seer and me, and I’m hoping he wasn’t full of shit. Amy’s screams are loud enough to make it panic and squeeze tighter, and I’m not even addressing the choir of women plastered against the walls or standing on desks yelling. We’ll never get this thing to let her loose before she suffocates if they don’t shut the fuck up and let this large exotic animal have some goddamn space and quiet.

“Hey, buddy,” I say, taking a cautious step towards my idiotic enemy. “She’s not worth it. Someone will insist you be euthanized if you kill her. You gotta loosen up so she can breathe.”

“What… what... is… she…” Amy gurgles, but I ignore her as I focus on the serpent, studying me curiously.

Another step, followed by another, has me close enough to look into its reptilian eyes. I lay my hand on one of the thick coils gently, trying not to spook it. I’m hoping the vibration from my voice will transfer through my fingertips because Amy is damn near blue in the lips. I have little time and it doesn’t seem like anyone is coming to save me.

“Release her. Let her go and I will deal with her nastiness. She hasn’t harmed you and her words no longer hurt me. The bike inside of people like this eats them from the inside out, much like your venomous relatives,” I murmur to it.

I have no idea why I feel like I should justify myself to this random murderous snake, but I have a soft spot for almost any animal, and I’m worried that this attack will get it killed. I can’t prove it crashed through the vent to defend me, but the timing is hard to ignore.

“Is she some sort of Harry Potter reject? What isgoing on? Get the mayor! Get Chief Barrington to throw her ass in jail and shoot this thing!” one of the Skippers shrieks.

Before I can tell her to shut her fucking yap, the door bursts open and my guards let out territorial snarls and yowls. My head whips around, hoping it’s Teddy or one of my boys—hell, even Seer would be helpful at this point—but it’s Doyle. The hero of the hourwouldbe the snarky Irish asshat that got me into this bloody mess. The picture of us isn’t pornographic, but it’s detailed enough for everyone who reads this godsforsaken paper to know what we were up to in that alley. His arrival doesn’t do a damn thing to quell the rumor reported as fact in this paper, and I want to kick him in the balls for not being smarter.

“Aye, lass. Looks as though you’ve got a bit of a cat on a melodeon here. Allow me to assist,” he says, giving me an infuriating, mischievous grin.

Ugh, why, oh why, do Ialwaysattract trouble like a magnet?

“Doyle, baby, stop this freak from killing Amy!” the annoyingly brave Skipper shrieks.

His brow arches in that way that only those of us with the dominant gene seem to as he looks at her. “Bambi, I am not, nor have I ever been, your baby. I wasn’t even my mum’s baby for very long. Now shut up and let the adults handle this, you twit.”

I have to struggle with whether I should laugh that this idiot is actually named Bambi or that he basically sent her to the kiddie table in front of everyone. My smug delight wins the war and I smirk at her, turning to my reluctant savior. “Well, Lucky, I woke up this morning, and decided since the paper called me everything short of a snake charmer, I’d try my hand at the hat trick.”

His laugh booms through the room as he comes over and whispers in my ear, “I believe you already know exactly how to accomplish that feat, but let’s try it on the real one together, aye? Talk to the git before the melters in here get their friend killed.”

I wrinkle my nose, wondering why he thinks my voice is going to soothe this fifty-pound monster. Humoring him seems to be the best way to stall for time, so I nod. “Come on, dude. Amy won’t even taste good. You’re not going to squeeze the bitter out of her, and when you go to chow down, she’s gonna give you indigestion. Hell, she gives me an ulcer and I’m not even trying to digest her mean ass.”

The serpent tilts its head, bobbing it back and forth for a moment as its tongue flicks in the air. I know that means it’s scenting because snakes use taste as one of their main hunting tools. One coil at a time loosens after it dances for us, slowly letting go of my childhood nemesis until her lips pink up. Eventually, the shiny black and rainbow python lets go of her completely and slithers over to me. It winds its way around my left leg and up my body until it’s wrapped around me like I’m in a Brittany Spears video.

Oh, just fucking great.

“Looks like ye found another admirer, Tíogair. I have to admit; I’m a lot more fond of this one than the giant feathered git or the doggies,” Doyle murmurs, his eyes dancing with mirth.

“Of course you like the snake and cats. If you were some sort of Wuzzle, you’d be a mix of those animals, Lucky.” I sigh, looking back at the gasping Amy and her fawning Skippers. The thought of dealing with her or the fallout of this is exhausting.

“Why hasn’t anyone told this bitch? She’s dangerous!” Amy shouts, pointing a shaking finger at me. “The Mayor should have herlocked up like a zoo animal!”

The rage builds again, and Doyle takes my hand, squeezing it as if to calm me. I don’t know that his presence is so effective just yet, and I open my mouth only to close it immediately when Teddy comes barreling through the door with Wolfie, Presley, and Benjy. I don’t know who called my guys or why in the hell they brought the biggest dude in the entire town with them, but I’ll take it.

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