Page 2 of Renascence

I glance back just in time to see a shudder make its way through her body.Uncle. I knew she had to be family.Placing the box on the counter, I scale it once more, leaving her behind the register.

“What the hell are you doing with all those rats anyways?” she asks in her adorable country-girl twang.

“Mice.”

“What?”

“They’re mice, not rats.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Lots of differences, but let’s just say rats are bigger.”

“Whatever. They’re still gross. What are you doing with them?”

“Snakes.”

Vacant eyes blink up at me while she waits for me to continue.

“I feed them to my snakes, doll.”

“You have a snake?” Her eyes widen in shock, then snap closed as she shudders again. “Eww.”

I chuckle, the memory of her initial bitchiness quickly fading.

“If you like, you can come over sometime and I’ll show him to you,” I offer, choosing not to point out that I saidsnakes… plural.

“Is that some kind of—” Her eyes drop to my crotch, then move back to my face. “—penis joke?”

This time I laugh.

“I’m glad you find me funny,” she adds, sarcasm dripping off her words.

I lean on the counter, getting close to her while bringing my face level with hers. Her breath catches, her lips slightly parting. That’s when I notice how gorgeous they are—plump and naturally red.

“I actuallywastalking about my pet, but I’ll show you whatever you want to see.” She licks her lips, taking a step back and putting some distance between us. “Trust and believe, darlin’, if I was making dick jokes, I would’ve said anaconda.” I lean in closer. “Not snake.”

She gasps, cheeks growing red. Quickly turning away, she grabs a notebook from the shelf behind her and begins flipping through the pages.

“What’s your name?” I ask.

“It ain’t doll, and it ain’t darlin’, either,” she throws sass, keeping her attention on the book.

“Well, if you told me, I wouldn’t need to give you nicknames.”

She glances up, considering my words before replying, “Emily. Emily Pierce.”

“Emily.” I test her name on my tongue.I’d like to test a whole lot more than that.“You already know my name.”

“Yeah.” She continues searching the pages of the book.

“What are you looking for?”

“Uncle Jeff makes notes on who owes him what. I’m looking for you and those—” She looks to the box in contempt. “—rats.”

“You won’t find me in that book, pretty Emily.”

The compliment throws her. Meeting my eyes, she asks, “Why?”