Page 102 of Black Mamba

“I have a better idea.”

She brushes a loose lock of hair behind her ear and twists the beaded necklace on her neck. A trinket she found in her sister’s room and has been wearing since. “A better idea? We can go to a different camp if you want, I told you I was fine with that. There are people out there that could be lost, and need help.”

“No.” I sit upright, coiling my tail inward toward the chair. “I will take you to meet Shelby.”

She opens her mouth then closes it as she debates her response. “I would like to meet Shelby…”

“Then that is where we will go next, and in the meantime, you can gather more for when we do return to the encampment. If you are keen on helping others… I have never not seen the worth in that.” I enjoy having allies.

I am also hoping the shimmering veil will disappear before we return, but when I check on it each day, it is there, just past Vagan’s land. I would like to know what he thinks about it, and what the others think about it. Taking Elena to meet Shelby is not only for her, but for me as well.

I do not have a direct way of communicating with them like Elena does her sister. Yet. I have never cared to communicate with someone so quickly until now.

I eye the orb and the controls of Elena’s ship, wondering how I can make her communication system useful to me. If not her controls, then the ones in Greg and Levy’s vessel. If Elena hears Shelby’s voice on her systems, then it should be possible to “comm” with them as well.

There’s a dinging noise and my eyes shoot to the metal rectangular box in the corner.

“It’s done!” Elena pivots and walks to the machine. She opens the front compartment and takes out a plate. She blows on it, grabs a fork, and walks over to me with it. She grins as she hands it over. “Ready to try bland pasta, Lukys?”

I dubiously scan the contents—the pale cream color of the squiggly items on the plate. I bare my fangs and hiss when my next inhale is filled with strange smelling chemicals. They are not bad, just not appetizing.

“Come on, try a little bit of my culture. It’s basic but still…” She laughs, pushing back her hair. “It’s not going to kill you.”

I pick up the fork and poke it into a squiggle, finding the utensil odd in my hands. Carefully, I bring it to my mouth as I narrow my eyes.

But Elena is not looking at my eyes, she is staring at my mouth, smirking deviously.

I endure the pasta and close my mouth around the fork like I have seen her do many times before. Salt bursts on my tongue as a subtle creamy flavor blooms forth. Chewing slowly, I smash the slimy squiggle between my teeth, finding it easy to break down. I swallow smoothly and put the fork back on the plate.

“What do you think?”

“I would like water…”

“Here, I’ll get you a cup.” When she moves to leave, I place the plate on the table and haul her into my lap. She huffs and shimmies, but then sighs and settles.

“I would like you,” I amend with a growl. She faces me, dropping her legs on either side of the chair.

I cup the back of her head and pull her mouth to mine. I share the salty flavor of the pasta and in return, get it cleansed with a taste of her. I press my tongue inside and am flooded with her essence and a little bit of berry. “I would do anything for you,” I rasp against her lips.

“I know.” She kisses me back. “You just ate machine-made pasta.”

“I would eat a lot more than that.”

I will take her to the encampment, and I will take her to others, if that is what she wishes. I will even eat her food. It is such a little thing to ask when I would be willing to do so much more.

But first, we need answers, and Vagan and Shelby may have them. I will do a lot for my bride, but not if her safety is impaired.

I want to know what they think of the veil.

EPILOGUE: THE NEXT STEPS

Elena

“Vagan!” Lukys shouts, then waits a moment. “Shelby!” he yells shortly after before lowering to my side.

We wait by the edge of a crystalline lake. Majestic mountains rise on either side of us but none of them are Lukys’s. We went the same path as before but never crossed the river, following it, instead, into the mountains.

I pull my walking stick toward me and grip it with both hands, huffing out a breath. I’m getting used to hiking but I’ve got a ways to go before I’m fit enough to endure it for hours on end. Even with the weeks of foraging, I’m only slightly fitter than I was before.