Fangs and Fennel (The Venom Trilogy #2)(65)

“Juice?” I asked, and the dryad nodded, a flower drifting from her face to land in one of the cups.

“Of course.”

She hurried away, and I took a sip of the juice. It was sweet, but I couldn’t peg the flavor, which was unusual for me. I took another sip and rolled it around my mouth before going on with my questions.

“So, how long lived?”

“Oh, longer than you might imagine. I’d say at least a few hundred years. Probably more.” He took a big gulp from his cup.

My jaw unhinged, and that is saying something. Smithy’s eyes widened and he looked away. “Keep forgetting about that part of you.”

I snapped my mouth shut. “Okay, so what do you know about my dad?”

“Your father?” He seemed surprised by the question. “I don’t know anything about him.”

“He’s a supernatural,” I murmured. “I’ve been trying to find out what kind.”

“Why?”

I shrugged. “It seems important.”

Smithy sighed. “Probably not. He might not even realize he’s supernatural. The bloodlines can be thin and still affect the children. That’s the way it goes.”

“Right.” I sighed. “And Theseus? Ernie said he worked with you for a time.”

He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Yeah, he did. It was a favor to one of his fathers, Poseidon.”

I blinked several times, not sure I’d heard right. “One of his fathers?”

“Yeah, the other he’s not so proud of. The tales make it sound like Aegeus was this great king, but he was really something of a tool. A goat man who was horny as hell but couldn’t get it up. He needed an heir, at least in his mind, and convinced Poseidon to help him.”

I tipped my drink and gulped back a mouthful. The image of a goat man, like Damara’s two boyfriends, not being able to get it up was amusing. I giggled and then slapped a hand over my mouth. “What kind of juice again?”

Smithy arched an eyebrow. “Nectar of the gods.”

“That doesn’t tell me much, smarty-pants,” I slurred out. Slurred. Oh, that was not going to be good. But why, again? I tipped the cup back and emptied it. “That’s gooooood.”

Smithy rolled his eyes. “Cheap drunk, eh? Listen to me. Theseus is not going to be easy to kill. He doesn’t have an obvious weakness like Achilles. He’s all about control, about learning his prey and then going after it, in this case you, with a sudden thrust that comes from a direction you won’t expect.”

“Thrust.” I giggled again, and Smithy leaned forward and grabbed my arms.

“Pay attention, I won’t say this again. He wasn’t killed by a monster, he just faded away from mankind, and that was how he was ‘killed.’ He faded like so many of the minor gods. He needs people to believe in him, to support him to keep him powerful.”

“So.” I pursed my lips and leaned toward him so we were close enough to kiss. Not that I wanted to, but by the way his gaze dipped, he was thinking about it. “There is nothing you can tell me that will actually help, then?”

“He’s stealing your friends,” he murmured, “and he will make you fight them first. Make you kill them to protect yourself, and then he will take you out. He knows your weakness, Alena. He knows you care too much. You aren’t like the other monsters. You aren’t selfish like them.”

I wobbled in my seat, and he helped steady me. I rolled my head forward until it rested on his shoulder. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

A screech from behind us snapped along my spine, shooting me upright, even while I swayed and the world wobbled. I twisted my head around. At the far side of the pool, a woman wearing a bright-white strappy bikini that looked a lot like the one I’d tried on stared at us. A part of my brain screamed that I was in trouble. Like serious trouble, because I recognized her. Or the Drakaina in me did anyway. The long, curling strawberry-blond hair, the pristine blue-green eyes, the perfect body, high cheekbones, lush lips, great big boobies that defied gravity, all could belong to only one woman.

Aphrodite.

“I can see why you married her,” I stage-whispered. I mean, I was trying to whisper, but it was really loud. “I mean, she is super-duper hot.”

“Shit,” Smithy grunted, letting go of me as if I’d flashed my fangs at him.

I wobbled and fell to the ground of the hut, giggling.

I lay there and stared up at the ceiling of the hut. “I think she’s mad at you, Smithy.”

Those blue-green eyes were suddenly looking down at me. “I’m going to kill you, Drakaina.”

“Ohh, wait. That’s what Achilles said. You should ask him how that worked out. I think he’s here somewhere. You’ve got great boobs, by the way. From here, it’s a good look on you.” I laughed up at her, unable to stop the bubbling mirth. I’d never been drunk before, was this really how it happened? I felt great. As if I were on top of the world, when I should have been freaking out.

Smithy’s hands were on his wife, and they were arguing as he tried to push her away from me. “She’s one of the inmates I have to deal with.”

“Looked like far more than that to me. She was holding on to you!” she screamed, and I cringed.