Page 97 of Nightshades

Rhett shoves the guy next to him, the one with grey skin and purple scales and smoke coming from his mouth.

“Put the dragon away. be nice, Creed. This guy could kill us all.”

Yes. I could.

I’m dying to. It’s been a week since I’ve killed, and I’m thirsting to do it again.

“I’m Creed,” he bites through clenched teeth. “My mate is Demi, the diner owner.”

“Tell him what you are.”

“No,” Creed argues. “I’m only here because Demi made me.”

I respect him more for that. I’d be the same way.

“Listen, we don’t have time for this bullshit.” Rhett’s concrete wings spread out in annoyance. “Hell’s Harvesters will be here any minute because of your crimes. You can’t go around killing humans any time you want.”

I frown. “Why not?”

“It’s bad.” Rhett pinches the bridge of his nose. “Moving on because you’re a lot like Creed, and I only have patience for him some of the day. People see you in human form due to the rain being spelled.”

Ah, that makes sense.

“Sorry, Shadey. I meant to tell you,” Lula says.

She started calling me Shadey a few days ago, and I love it. It fits. And I’ve never had a nickname. If anyone has the power to make me feel human again, it’s her.

“It’s okay. A lot has happened. You don’t need to explain a thing.” I cup her face, not wanting her to feel for one minute that it is her fault. My skin slithers with my roots, hating that they are there. “Listen, I only have so much tolerance for…people. My nightmare is clawing at my skin, and it’s because of you.”

“That’s so fucking wild,” Fitz beams.

An odd human.

“Anyway, I wanted to extend a job offer to my garage. Snapdragons. You have clear talent.”

“Do I have to socialize?”

“Shade, sé amable.”

“I am being nice,” I grumble, cracking my neck as the nightmare slithers under my skin.

Lula’s hand touches my arm, the simple, innocent touch calms me instantly, the evil only lurking through my eyes instead of trying to pry from my body.

“You’re okay. You won’t hurt them.”

“I want to,” I bite, cutting my eyes to the monster with fire, Creed. I don’t like him. I wonder what he is afraid of. If he is afraid of anything.

“I know, but they aren’t here as a threat, Shadey. They are here so we can be friends. It would be good for our little parasite to have friends, and they have kids,” she points out.

I growl, not liking that she is right. I don’t want my kid to be alone. “Fine. Yes. I’ll take your offer to work at the garage. These are human bones though. Can I provide those? I already have the beetles I need to clean the bones.”

“You won’t be building human bone bicycles. Oh my god, you’re just like Creed. Okay, you’ll be building the bikes the customers want. What the humans want.”

I curl my lip, take a step back, and look Rhett up and down. The audacity to come onto my property and say I have to listen to humans.

Hay, Dios mío.

That’s what Lula would say. I hear her voice in my head because I hear it all the time. She says it when she wakes up sleepy, mad, laughing, stubbing her toe, whatever, she says it a hundred times a day, and if anyone ever made her stop saying it, I would kill them.