“Venom.”
It was less than a whisper, but he heard.
Heart thundering, he rose to look down into Holly’s face. Her lips were slightly parted, her eyes closed. “Kitty.” His voice shook.
“Umm.” It was a lazy, sleepy sound . . . right before she curled into him in a way that said she had no plans to wake.
He pressed a kiss to the rainbow shine of her hair, his entire body trembling. “Sleep. We’ll talk later.” All of what he’d said while she was asleep, he’d tell her when she was awake. She had every right to his secrets and stories. Naasir was right about having someone to share secrets with—it was a gift beyond price.
38
Holly stretched awake with the sense that she’d had the most luxuriant sleep of her li— “Fuck,” she whimpered, “that hurts.” Every muscle in her body felt as if it had been pounded with a hammer until it was pulp, then flung into a freezer to become locked into its misshapen form. “Oh, God.”
“No need to go that far, kitty. Venom or Tushar will do.”
Slitting open her eyes, Holly found herself looking into eyes of viper green that were dancing with light.
Happiness.
She’d never seen Venom this innocently happy in . . . ever. Her own lips curved. “Stop being snarky and do something.”
His smile deepened. “I’ve drawn you a hot bath with mineral salts. Will that do?”
“For starters.” She frowned as the sprawl of the room penetrated. “Where are we?”
“The Tower. View’s behind you.”
Groaning, Holly managed to turn just enough to look at the glittering lights of Manhattan. “Last thing I remember, I was in Michaela’s stronghold, trying to convince Uram’s ghost it wasn’t a good idea for him—it—to exist.”
“He’s gone for good.” Venom scooped her up in his arms and held her against the bare skin of his chest.
“Mmm.” She snuggled in, running her palm up that toned muscle all warm and tensile. “You’re so pretty.”
He chuckled. “You’re still half asleep.”
Yawning, Holly continued to stroke him until he set her in the bath . . . and only then realized she’d been naked on the stone floor in his living area. “What happened to my clothes?”
“I took them off—they were drenched in blood.”
Memory flashed of her skin cracking, her insides fracturing. But her hands found only smooth, unbroken skin anywhere she touched—and while she ached, it didn’t feel like she was dying. “How long since the turret?”
Venom moved to another side of the large bathroom, his buttocks flexing under the loose black pajama pants that were all he wore. “You’ve been asleep for forty-seven hours.”
“Are you wearing satin pants?”
“No. I have better taste than that.” The fabric moved like air and liquid both as he strode back to her, a bottle in hand. Opening it, he poured a shimmering and creamy something into the bath.
The scent of frangipani filled the air.
Holly’s toes curled. “You’re so pretty and so nice, too.” Her muscles began to loosen up. Slowly.
Lips curving, Venom went behind her. “I’m going to wash your hair.”
Holly had absolutely no desire to protest. She just lay back and stayed half asleep while he washed her hair with a care and a gentleness that surprised her. “How do you know how to wash long hair? Did you have a ponytail phase?”
“I used to wash my sisters’ hair sometimes.” His words were a surprise. “When they were very young and it wouldn’t be considered scandalous. Just to help out my mother.” A smile in his voice, he said, “My father never did it for my sisters, always acted so stern, but I saw him washing my mother’s hair once. He loved her from the roots of his own hair to the tips of his toes.”
He began to massage her scalp.
“Venom?”
“Hmm?”
“Are my eyes still acid green?” She was awake now, wide awake, and she was starting to remember that she should be stone dead.
“I think you need to see for yourself.” Getting up, he wiped his wet hands on a towel, then rooted about in a drawer until he found a small handheld mirror. It was ornate, the back mother-of-pearl painted with vipers. “Gift,” he said at her questioning look. “From a friend in Neha’s court who enjoys poking fun at what she deems my vanity.”
Laughing at his scowl, Holly accepted the mirror, but then couldn’t make herself turn it to the reflecting side. “Just tell me.”
He’d gone behind her again, was once more massaging her scalp with clever fingers. “You won’t be sorry, Hollyberry,” he murmured. “Look.”
She released a long breath before slowly beginning to turn the mirror. If her eyes remained acid green, then part of Uram might yet be hidden inside her. That color was his energy. If her eyes were brown again . . .
She sat up before she’d finished moving the mirror enough to see, water sploshing as she felt for her fangs.
Venom came to face her. “They’re still just as small,” he said with an amused look to him.
Shoving at his chest without effort, Holly did nothing to hide her relief. “I thought I might not be a vampire any longer.”
His gaze turned solemn. “You never wanted to be a vampire.”
“Yes, but that was before you.” Holly could imagine a different eternity now, one filled with happiness and love and a shared recklessness that led to wild adventure. “I don’t mind sucking your blood for millennia.”
Smile returning, he tapped the mirror. “Are you going to look?”
“I’m too scared.”
“This from a woman who derailed the plans of a psychotic archangelic ghost?” Slipping one arm around her back and placing his other hand around hers on the handle of the mirror, he said, “Ready?”
Exhaling shakily, Holly nodded at last. And they turned the mirror.
At first, she felt a punch of visceral joy . . . only to wrench the mirror closer and stare. “What is that?” Her eyeballs stared back at her from the mirror. “What the hell. What am I supposed to put on my driver’s license now?”
Venom’s laughter filled the bathroom. “I think they call the color hazel,” he said solemnly when he stopped laughing.
“Be quiet, Viper Face.” Because her eyes weren’t hazel. They were a strange mix of darkest brown and acidic green.