15

Venom prowled into the room as the butler scuttled away. He was aware of Holly shooting him a sideways look, but there was no fear in her, only a slight glee. “You enjoyed that, didn’t you?”

“The butler has a repugnant taste for young flesh.”

“Ugh. How come old vampires are so creepy?”

“I’ll ask Dmitri.”

“I’ll punch you if you so much as mention that question to him,” Holly threatened. “I don’t mean Dmitri or Trace or other sane vampires. I mean the creepy ones that just get off on pain and ugliness.” She poked at an ornate gold cushion edged with thick black satin rope. “Money clearly doesn’t buy style.”

Venom watched her take a seat on the equally ornate sofa, a small and deadly woman with acid green eyes who crossed her legs and watched the doorway. Her intense focus would surely terrify Kenasha. Amused by the idea, Venom moved to the left, so that Holly was who Kenasha would see when he walked in.

That happened moments later, the short and thickly built angel blustering in. It really took a lot of work for an angel to make himself unattractive—the angelic race was extraordinarily beautiful. So beautiful that an angel could still sometimes stop Venom’s breath. He didn’t want to own an angel as some vampires coveted. He didn’t even want to sleep with one—he’d been there, done that, but he could admire their sheer physical beauty the same way he could a stunning work of art.

Kenasha, however, bucked the trend. His body was flaccid and without shape—and fat on an angel took serious commitment, as flight burned so much energy. His hair was a blond pompadour that might’ve been in style a few centuries back, but even then wouldn’t have suited his round face.

His wings were patchy. In the three hundred and fifty years or so since Venom became a vampire, he’d never seen such a sight. The only times he’d observed angels missing feathers had been after an accident when they’d lost part of their wing and the feathers were in the process of regenerating. Kenasha, by contrast, appeared as if he’d fallen victim to a disease that was causing his feathers to waste away and drop off.

“What’s the meaning of this?” the angel said in an exaggeratedly angry voice before freezing as his eyes landed on Holly. “Who are you?” It came out slightly squeaky.

Holly smiled slowly and didn’t move a muscle. “Holly. And I really want to claw out your eyes, then crush your glistening eyeballs under the heel of my boot.” Her smile never faded.

Kenasha gulped and took a stumbling step backward.

It took effort for Venom not to laugh. Keeping his expression impassive only through centuries of experience, he stepped out of the shadows. Kenasha swayed on his feet at first sight of Venom, though his wraith of a butler had to have clued him in as to the identity of his visitor.

“We have something to discuss,” Venom said mildly. “You should sit.”

The angel didn’t argue, instead sinking into a large armchair that was a catastrophe of dark red and yellow and green. Ugly. Really ugly. Just like the being who occupied it—and Venom wasn’t talking about Kenasha’s physical appearance. “We found a vampire today who belongs to you. A female. Brown hair, blue eyes, thin.”

“Oh.” Kenasha’s tensed shoulders relaxed. “I lent her to some friends of mine. She isn’t lost. Thanks for coming to check.”

As if Venom was the lost and found. “Holly,” he said, warning in his voice, when he saw her start to uncross her legs.

“Just one eye,” she said in a pleading tone so unlike her that he almost lost control and laughed.

Kenasha, however, took her seriously. “Look here,” he said in a pompous manner, “I have every right to lend out a vampire who belongs to me. I pay for her blood, her room and board. I own her.”

Venom felt the viper within uncurl. “Why is her Contract not registered with the Tower? Who transferred ownership to you?” Because that angel was also in deep trouble.

Tongue flicking out, Kenasha wet his lips. “She is post-Contract. Signed to serve me of her own free will.”

If that was true, the Tower would have no reason to chastise him. But Venom was very, very good at sensing the ages of fellow vampires and Daisy had read as young to him. Extremely young. “Ask your butler to retrieve her papers so I can confirm.” He continued to stare at the other man, unable to imagine how this creature was part of the same race as the magnificent being whom Venom chose to serve.

Kenasha didn’t argue, calling in the wraith and sending him off to his study. They waited in silence, Holly staring unblinking at Kenasha the entire time. The four-thousand-year-old angel flushed, couldn’t stay still in the hideous armchair.

“What happened to your wings?” Venom asked, wondering if he had to alert Dmitri to some kind of new disease. Angels weren’t usually vulnerable to disease, but Charisemnon had gained the ability to infect immortals with disease in the Cascade. His last attempt had caused the Falling, when many angels fell out of the sky to lie broken on the earth. Perhaps he’d gotten more subtle in the intervening time.

“My wings?” Kenasha unfolded one and stared at it, as if he hadn’t noticed the patchiness. “Oh, that. I think perhaps I ate something that didn’t agree with me.”

Venom caught the shiftiness of the angel’s eyes, knew he was lying. But he held his silence and when he glanced at Holly, he saw that though she remained hotly angry, she was in control.

The butler walked in at that instant, the papers in his hand. Venom took them before dismissing the wraith. “This contract is dated four years ago.” To be exact, it was dated a month after Raphael executed Uram, following a battle in the sky that had half destroyed Manhattan.

“Has it been that long?” Kenasha gripped the arms of his chair.

Venom scanned the document. It appeared to be in order—a female vampire named—

Well, that was intriguing.

The woman had agreed to serve Kenasha for twenty-five years in return for the “usual care.” Foolish girl. A smart vampire would’ve asked for very specific terms and conditions.

Her signature was shaky, however, and the sole witness the wraith. “This contract is invalid.” He threw the papers on the floor. “Your butler is not an impartial witness.” The Tower did not meddle in the affairs of vampires who’d served out their Contract—they were adults who’d lived a hundred years already and were considered capable of making their own decisions.

However, despite the Tower’s hands-off policy, there were certain rules in place to protect all parties. One of which was an impartial witness to any such contract. “Explain yourself.” He walked close enough that he was looming over Kenasha.

The angel went red. “This is an outrage,” he squeaked out. “I’m an angel. Your better.”

Venom could’ve displayed very easily why this man was a bug to him, but he didn’t want to play games. “Would you rather talk to Dmitri?” The leader of the Seven terrified most people—it was useful on occasion.

Kenasha lost all color in his face before slumping in his seat. “I found her,” he confessed in a whisper, his throat moving as he swallowed. “She was half dead and in the Hudson. I saw her one day while I was flying and got curious, pulled her out.” He shrugged. “I don’t know why. I just thought it might be interesting to see a corpse.”

It was a repulsive thing to say, but Venom didn’t expect much else from Kenasha. “But she wasn’t dead?”

“No, she was alive. And she was pretty then.” He twisted his hands together. “I brought her home without thinking much about it.”

“Liar.” Holly’s silken voice came from behind the angel.

Kenasha jumped, having clearly taken his eyes off her when Venom came closer.

Leaning over, Holly whispered in the angel’s ear. “You wanted to fuck her, didn’t you?”

Kenasha had frozen at the realization that he was surrounded by predators, but now jerked his head up and down. “I thought she’d be grateful I’d rescued her, and do things for me. That’s not bad,” he added. “I saved her life.”

True enough—vampires couldn’t drown, but a lack of blood would’ve eventually made her so weak that the water and its creatures would’ve separated her head from her body. “How did you end up owning her?”

The angel’s eyes shifted right. “She asked.”

“Liar, liar,” Holly whispered in Kenasha’s other ear while scraping her nails delicately over his jugular.

Kenasha began to hyperventilate. “I wanted her!” he almost screamed. “She had something inside her that I wanted! I drank her blood and it was delightful! So I kept her!”

Venom’s eyes met Holly’s over the top of the angel’s head. She looked as confused as he felt. “You drank her blood?”

“Yes. I’ve always liked a little blood and her blood smelled so good that I took a sip while she was unconscious.” He shuddered in gross ecstasy. “It tasted so good, made me feel so powerful that I couldn’t let her go.”

“So she didn’t agree to be your slave?”

Kenasha gave him a sly look. “It’s her word against mine.”

Leaving that for now because the not-very-bright angel had already incriminated himself many times over, Venom focused on the more interesting fact. “You felt good after drinking her blood? Any other effect?”

Kenasha opened out his wing again. “This. I didn’t realize it until later, but my body couldn’t process all the blood I was taking. That’s why I started lending her out. When she’s here, I can’t stop feeding from her.”

Venom saw the rage on Holly’s face and shook his head slightly. She hissed but turned away to stalk to the other end of the room.

“Do others feed from her?” Venom asked.

“I never gave them permission for that!” Kenasha’s tone rose. “I just told them they could use her as a toy. Her blood is mine!”

Obviously, the Tower techs needed to test Kenasha’s blood and feathers to see why a young vampire’s blood had caused such a strong negative reaction. That could be arranged easily enough. “Can you fly?”

“I’m weak,” the angel admitted. “But I can get across the Hudson.”

“I want you to go to the Tower and present yourself for blood and other tests. If you don’t, I’ll come to take the samples myself. Understood?”

“I’ll do it now.” A long breath, a shaky exhale. “It was so good. If you’d tasted her blood, you’d want to keep her, too. And, after a few months, she stopped fighting.”

Venom didn’t stop Holly this time. She sank her small, venomous fangs into Kenasha’s neck and when she tore them back out, spitting on the floor to rid herself of his blood, the angel’s body began to convulse in his chair, his eyes bulging out and his face a rictus of pain.

Venom stayed only long enough to make sure the angel was in no danger of death, then told the butler to take care of his master. “He will be expected at the Tower before dawn. Make sure he’s there or the consequences will be infinitely worse than what he’s currently experiencing.”

The wraith bobbed his head so hard that Montgomery would’ve been mortified for his lack of poise. “Yes, sir.”

Venom deliberately took Holly’s hand as they walked out of the room. He didn’t trust her not to go back and have another go at Kenasha. She actually curled her fingers around his palm and held on tight, as if she didn’t trust herself, either.

Going out to the car, the air currently clear of rain, Venom opened the passenger door and waited for her to get in, then shut the door and made his way to the driver’s side. “Feel better?”

She wiped the back of her forearm across her mouth. “Yes, except for the taste of el creepo I have in my mouth.”

“Open the dash. There should be a bottle of energy drink in there.”

Holly found it, took a swallow, and swirled it around her mouth before opening the door of the not-yet-moving car and spitting the mouthful on the ground. After shutting the door, she nodded. “That’s better.”

Venom started up the car, turned it, and headed back down the drive.

The dangerous woman in the passenger seat looked at him. “Why did you let me do that?”

“I didn’t want to get the taste of el creepo in my own mouth.”

Holly’s laughter filled the car, and the otherness in Venom sat up and took notice all over again of this broken girl who’d become a fascinating, strong woman while he hadn’t been looking. “There’s one thing, Holly,” he said, telling himself once again that she was far too young for him to play with.

“What?”

“The vampire’s true name? It’s Daisy.”

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