Page 15 of Venom (St. Sebastian’s at Cravenmoor Academy #1)

Viper

T he walk back to our room is in a stony silence.

She is fuming, but I can see the relief cutting through.

She hates me for this, but if she hadn’t gone, it would play on her mind, and that would make her sloppy.

It would make my job twice as difficult, and it’s already turning into one of the most challenging things I’ve ever had to do, and that’s fucking saying something.

She pushes open the bedroom door, and I follow her in, closing it quietly behind me. She rummages through her bag and brings out a pill bottle.

I stride over to her and snatch it out of her hand before she can open it.

“Hey!” she snaps and tries to take it back.

She is so tiny, even in her heels, so to infuriate her, I hold it above my head to read the label. Temazepam. Sleeping tablets.

I glare down my nose at her.

“It’s been a bitch of a day,” she says.

Well, I can’t argue with that. I hand her the bottle back, and she takes it with a look of surprise. She shakes one out and pulls out a bottle of water from her bag. She takes the tablet and turns from me, stripping off her dress and underwear and crawling into bed, naked and tempting.

But if I took her now, it would make me everything I try not to be with women.

I try to protect them, not take advantage of them.

Instead, I crouch next to her and brush her hair out of her face.

She looks at me, her eyes already sleepy.

She is truly exhausted, and the sleeping tablet is just an extra measure. “Sleep, princess. I’ll watch over you.”

She doesn’t reply, she simply shuts her eyes.

“Last thing you see,” I mutter.

“Fuck off,” she mumbles, but it’s slurred. She is asleep before I even stand up.

Rising, I stare down at her, wondering what to do with her. She is more of a handful than I initially thought. But it’s worth every penny that Anton is giving me.

Stroking her hair back, I make sure she is truly asleep before I slip out of the room and make my way down the hallway and down the stairs to the entrance hall. Leaving the building, I make my way to my Range Rover and pause when I see Warrick leaning against it, arms crossed.

“She okay?” he asks.

“Fine.”

He nods, knowing he isn’t getting anything else from me.

“Seeing as you are here, you can help me move Lucy.”

“Who’s Lucy?” he asks.

I give him a wicked smile and open the back door. “My snake.”

Warrick snorts. “And by that, I don’t think you mean the metaphorical one.”

I grin. “I don’t need any help with that one.”

He moves to the side and peers into the back of the car. “Holy shit,” he says as Lucy locks onto him and hisses. “That thing is ginormous.”

“You look like you’re strong enough to lift it.”

He straightens up and gives me a vicious glare. “You expect me to pick that up?”

“Yep. I’ll shove it from this side, you get it from the other side, and I’ll crawl through. We’ll take it upstairs together.”

“What makes you think I’m going to help you?”

“You were leaning against my car, waiting for a bonding session, so here we are.”

“Christ,” he mutters. “That came back to bite me on my arse.”

I smirk. “She’ll bite you on the arse and everywhere else if you drop her. So, stop whinging and get on with it.”

Rafferty squares his shoulders, a flicker of something that isn’t quite fear in his eyes. More like morbid curiosity. “Fucking hell, Stone. You don’t do things by halves, do you?”

“Go big or go home,” I grunt, bracing myself on one side of the heavy glass tank. “You ready?”

He gets into position on the other side, his muscles bunching under his grey t-shirt. “Let’s get this fucking circus on the road.”

Together, we lift. The tank is heavy as fuck, the glass thick and reinforced. Inside, Lucy slithers against the side, her black, unblinking eyes watching our every move. Rafferty grunts as we clear the car, his knuckles white.

“She looks pissed,” he observes through gritted teeth.

“She’s always pissed,” I say, kicking the door closed behind me. “Makes two of us.”

We start the slow, awkward trek across the red-bricked quad. Every head turns. Students stop dead in their tracks, their mouths hanging open as we haul Lucy towards the main entrance.

“Mr Stone!” A man’s panicked voice cuts through the strain. “What is that thing?”

“A snake.”

“Pets aren’t allowed in the residence building,” he says, shoving his glasses up his nose.

I take in his stuffy tweed jacket and cultured accent and figure he is some bigwig on campus. “She’s not a pet.”

“Oh,” he huffs. “Then what is… she?”

“An active deterrent,” I say with a sinister smile and give Warrick a shove with the glass box to get him moving again.

He eyes me up with approval, and we make it into the entrance hall. Now we have to navigate the stairs.

“Take a side,” I grunt, tilting the heavy glass. “You walk backwards. Don’t fucking drop it.”

Rafferty curses under his breath but gets into position. “If this thing gets out and eats someone, I’m blaming you.”

“She won’t eat you,” I say, as we begin the slow, arduous ascent up the grand staircase. “She’ll just bite you. You’ll be dead in under an hour.”

His laugh is a harsh bark of disbelief. We’re a spectacle. Every student still milling about has stopped to watch the two of us haul a fucking death serpent up the stairs.

We finally reach the top, both of us breathing heavily, and we place it on the floor between us as we sit on the top step and take a breather.

“Fucking hell,” Rafferty pants, sweat beading on his forehead. “You’re a fucking psychopath, Stone.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Fancy meeting me in the gym tomorrow to spar?”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Why?”

He shrugs. “I need someone who will at least try to kick my arse.”

“Try? You probably have people lined up around the block to try.”

He smirks. “They’re sub-par. I think you will give me a proper workout.”

“Do you know who I am?” I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.

“I do.”

“Then you are either bold or stupid.”

“I’m just a guy in a fishbowl full of men who will gut you or shoot you but not fight you.”

I study him for a moment and see that it irritates him. “I have to stay with Venetia.”

“Bring her. Get her all worked up.”

“We’ll see,” I mutter and stand up. “Last room. Think you can make it?”

He scoffs and stands up, and we resume our trek.

As we get closer to the door, I say, “Venetia is sleeping, so be fucking quiet.”

“I don’t know how to be anything else,” he says.

I believe him. For a man so large, he moves with a stealth that would put most assassins to shame. I guess it’s not hard to figure out what he does.

Placing the box down again to open the door, I peek inside to make sure Venetia is still there and asleep.

She is both, so I nod, and we quietly manoeuvre Lucy’s habitat into the room and place her on the sturdy desk.

I plug in the heat lamp, and she immediately slithers under it, basking but still on alert.

I grab one of the bags my guy brought up to the academy earlier and pull out a box of dead mice.

I lift the feeding door and drop a few in before securing it back in place.

“That’s disgusting,” Warrick whispers.

“That’s nature,” I say with a smirk. “Only the strongest survive.”

He nods, keeping his gaze on Lucy before he slides his gaze over to Venetia. He looks like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t. He just slips out as quietly as he entered and closes the door behind him.

Alone at last, I stand between the two most dangerous females I’ve ever known. One who could kill me in my sleep with a blade, the other with a single bite.

Fucking fantastic.