Hisses and Honey Page 43

“We can’t get in. The door is steel,” someone said.

Of course it was. I gently took the woman’s hands from me. “Let me see if I can get it open.” Damn Merlin. I thought he was better than this. And what the H-E-double-hockey-sticks had happened that all these people were not only sick, but not in quarantine?

I ran to the door and with one well-placed kick busted it down. The door banged open, the handle and lock torn from it. I stormed inside, ready to drag Merlin out by his heels to help . . . but the second I stepped inside I knew the place was empty except for one person, and it wasn’t Merlin. I could smell her. She sat at the table, her blond-and-black ringlets cascading down her back as she played with a deck of cards.

I jerked to a stop and immediately braced myself for her to launch at me.

“Oh, please. Don’t act like you know how to fight.” She snorted and carefully dealt out a hand of solitaire. “You know, everyone is laughing at you.”

“I don’t know your name, unless Hercules was right,” I said, eyeing her up and down. I’d seen her in her human form only once, when Merlin had shown her to me, to warn me that he’d raised a Hydra.

Her eyes flicked to me, black as night, as though there was no soul in her. Maybe that was just my imagination.

“You can call me Angel, that’s my prison name.” She flicked a card over and slid it into a pile. I didn’t dare take my eyes from her. She had a strange heartbeat; it sounded like there were multiple hearts in her chest . . . nine, to be exact.

“Why aren’t you attacking me?”

“I underestimated you. It won’t happen again. I want to talk. I want you to know that I am going to enjoy killing you.” She grinned at me, flashing a mouthful of sharp teeth. The Drakaina rolled through me, and I couldn’t help flashing my own set of hardware, the fangs curling down from the top of my mouth and hanging low past my chin.

Angel laughed and shook her head. “Your venom is powerful shit. I’m still healing, if you must know. Hercules thinks he’s in charge of me, but he’s a tool.” She leaned back in her chair. “I was born to be a killer; I’m good at it. If you hadn’t noticed.” She winked. “Dear Mommy went down in a heap, didn’t she?”

I didn’t relax my stance, anger growing. “You will—”

“Pay for that? Oh, please. We both know you’re a weakling. You would have died if your friends hadn’t helped you. I, on the other hand, healed on my own. I’m a survivor, Drakaina. Unlike you. Do you know I killed my whole family?”

I clenched my fists, doubt riding me hard. Could I take her? I wasn’t sure. “Is that why you were in prison?”

She grinned. “No, I never got caught for that. I fed them to the pigs and buried their teeth after they were shit out.”

Cold chills swept through me, and for the first time I was afraid. Angel wasn’t like Achilles or Theseus, or even Hercules. She was a true psychopath.

She was nodding to herself. “Yes, that was fun. I meant to kill your mom too, if you must know. It was no accident.” She winked at me and grinned again. Her eyes . . . wobbled, for lack of a better word. Like they all of a sudden couldn’t look at the cards, or me, or anything completely as they sought out something that wasn’t there. All the monsters had their weaknesses, and it hit me suddenly what Angel’s was.

“Having trouble with nine sets of eyes stuck in one head, huh?” I knew I would have a chance, if I was brave enough to take it. I knew her weakness, and in her human form, I would have a chance to take her.

She glared at me, or tried to with her wobbling eyes. I flicked my left hand out to the side, and she followed the movement. I took the opening. I leapt at her, smashing into her body and taking us both crashing to the floor.

She screeched as we went down, and I jammed a hand up and under her jaw, pinning her head back to the floor. Her legs wrapped around my waist as her hands scrabbled at my arms, huge gouges drawn through both layers of skin. I hissed at her, and her bottomless black eyes met mine.

“You don’t deserve to live,” I whispered. “You killed my mom.” I choked on the words.

“I’d do it again,” she snarled back at me.

I saw her start to shift, and I pulled her head up. If I could knock her out, I could keep her from—

Something slammed into my head from the side, sending me flying off Angel. I hit the wall and slid down as I struggled to get my bearings. The world spun as though I’d been on a carnival ride for days.

“Get up, Angel. I told you we weren’t attacking her until I was sure it was the right thing to do.”

Hercules. That was Hercules. And his shield.

I blinked in time to see him yanking her off the floor and putting her over his shoulders. His eyes met mine and he nodded. “We will meet on the battlefield, Drakaina. But not today. I need to be sure of things before we fight again. Two days from now, we will face each other to decide the fate of the world.”

I pushed myself up and stumbled after them. They disappeared into the crowd of sick people . . . and protestors.

“Oh my God, what are you all doing?” I put a hand to my head. Hercules’s shield had rung my bell something fierce. Something about heroes’ weapons really hit home hard.

I recognized the protestors in front of Merlin’s because of the petite leader with the dark curls and Irish lilt to her voice as she distributed water, food, and blankets. I’d met her at the Wall only a week or so before and saved her from a rampaging werewolf.