Fangs and Fennel (The Venom Trilogy #2)(48)

I laughed. “Hephaestus vouched for you.”

“He did?” He gaped at me.

I nodded. “I don’t know why I believe him, but I do.”

“He’s a total stick in the mud. No fun. I haven’t seen him in years, how did he look?” Ernie settled into the passenger seat.

“What do you mean you haven’t seen him in years?”

“Like, I don’t know, a few hundred years? He went off the radar after Aphrodite’s last conquest. She broke his heart one too many times.” Ernie shook his head. “Made him a real asshole, hard and jaded.”

I could see that. Not that it mattered to me. “He almost kissed me.”

“WHAT?” Ernie roared, his voice filling up the small space. “Are you yanking my wings? Tell me you’re yanking my wings!”

“No.” I kept my eyes on the road. “He leaned in and was close enough to kiss me, and he said, ‘If I wasn’t married, Alena, you would be in trouble for a whole different reason.’ And then he left.”

“Wow,” he breathed out. “Now I know why Aphrodite hates you. It isn’t that you are beautiful, because there are lots of beauties out there.” He moved so that he sat on the dash and faced me like an oversized bobble-head doll. “You caught the eye of her husband, something that has never happened. He isn’t like the others; he takes his vows seriously.”

I scowled. “I didn’t catch his eye. He . . . he just said I made things interesting again.”

Ernie groaned and covered his face with his hands. “Even worse. If a god finds you interesting, that’s bad. Bad.”

“Look, what does it matter? She doesn’t even like him, you said that yourself.” I tapped a finger on the dash beside him. “And I’m still married to Roger.”

“Look, it’s a territory thing with these Greek ladies. They want what they want, and they don’t share worth shit. The thing is, Hephaestus hasn’t gotten laid for a long time, at least not since he made the fennel oil, I guess.”

“Maybe that’s why he’s so miserable,” I said.

Ernie barked a laugh. “No doubt. But Aphrodite uses it to keep him under her thumb. She really can be a bitch.”

“Again, none of this really matters right now. I can only deal with one thing at a time, Ernie. First thing I’ve got to do is get through this family dinner with a mother who thinks I’m a monster and a brother who is bringing his vampire girlfriend to meet her. Tomorrow I have court. And if I can get through that without issue, then I’m going to have a long nap.”

“What about Theseus?”

“He’s not doing anything. So neither am I.” I took the next exit and wove underneath the highway. I knew I was lying to myself. Theseus was manipulating my friends around me, slowly cornering me. But I didn’t know how to stop him.

“That’s not a good plan. You need to be ready for anything with him.”

“That’s impossible,” I said.

“Yeah,” he muttered, “that’s what I’m afraid of.”





CHAPTER 13


Vanilla and Honey came into view, and in front of it a sign that hadn’t been there before. A “For Sale” sign with a “Sold” sticker slapped across it in bold lettering.

I yanked the steering wheel to the side and parked at the curb hard enough to crash the hubs into the cement. Ernie grimaced. “Easy on the old car, Alena.”

I jerked the keys from the ignition and stepped out as a semitruck roared past, fluttering my skirt around my legs. The rumble of the big rig vibrated up through the ground and into my body through the soles of my shoes. I embraced the energy and used it to propel me forward with long strides.

From around the side of the bakery Roger appeared . . . with Colleen Vanderhoven right behind him.

Roger half turned and smiled at her. “As soon as we can get the duplicate paperwork, we’ll finish the sale, Colleen.”

“You’d better, because you and I both know your Barbie doll spent the down payment I made already. I want those recipes your wife keeps in her vault.” She poked him in the chest with one finger I knew would be filthy from the one time I’d tried to shake her hand. Her greasy neon-pink hair was pulled back in a low ponytail that would hang in any batter she tried to whip up.

Suddenly, the break-in I’d busted up the week before made sense. The robbers hadn’t been looking for money.

They’d been looking for my recipes. A low, rumbling hiss escaped my mouth as I strode toward them. They stood in front of the bakery, oblivious to my approach.

“I can’t get the locksmith in until I have proof this is my bakery,” Roger said. “You know that. The paperwork should be here in the next week or so.”

“Vanilla and Honey issss my bakery, Roger.” I snapped the words at him as I struggled to keep my fangs in place. They kept lowering as the anger in me rose, and I kept pushing them back up with my tongue. The effort made speaking interesting.

Roger spun to face me and at the same time scrambled backward. “Stay there, Alena. I don’t want to get sick.”

Colleen snorted. “She’s not sick, you fool. I can see it. Can’t you? Not even a sniffle on her stupid face.” Her brown eyes narrowed as they landed on me. “Poor little rich girl, all the money in the world handed to you, and you end up not being able to use it because you’re a supernatural. How awful. The bakery is going to be mine.” She snapped her fingers at my face. I clenched my teeth to keep from biting her.