Page 80 of Venomous as a Snake

I have confidence in him and myself.

Now it’s my turn to plan on the fly.

“Go to bed, Hooker,” I command in a whisper, hoping the minions will think he’s following me upstairs.

As they bolt after my Dogo, I tiptoe into the living room and pull Carol from his enclosure, setting him on the carpet. He’s a stark white streak against the creamy backdrop, but there’s no way to miss him. I’m betting these guys don’t know the difference between a large rat snake and a king cobra without a flared hood.

Most people won’t.

“Good job, Carol,” I whisper as I close the door to his home.

I quickly strip out of my clothing, dropping it beside him before I shift.

The glory of being so busy—A.K.A procrastinating—is that I still haven’t fixed those holes the rat shifters left when I moved in. I slide into the one in the living room and follow the path they made. Until it stops…

And then I have to climb.

It’s not common knowledge that king cobras are arboreal, but we’re skilled climbers. And swimmers.

There’s really no getting away from us if we want you.

The hole in the second-floor wall looks out into the hallway, and I count the feet as they trample down the stairs.

“Found her,” the first guy yells.

No, you found Carol; I think to myself.

“Good. Grab her and let’s get the fuck out of here,” the second man calls.

“Where am I supposed to put her?” the first minion asks. “I can’t just hold a fucking cobra for forty-five minutes.”

“Get a pillowcase, you idiot,” the third man snarls. “Don’t you know anything about snakes?”

The first guy grunts. “I know a piece of cotton won’t stop her fangs from piercing one of us.”

“There’s a plastic tub,” the second minion says. “Put her in that.”

My temper flairs to life with a vengeance, but I fight with my nature as I listen to them. Now is not the time to make noise. My hiss sounds more like a growl, and there’s no way they won’t hear me.

I stay quiet, hidden in the walls until the door shuts with a deafening slam.

And then I stay longer, turning my head to listen for movements I don’t recognize.

After a few more minutes pass, Hooker sniffs at the hole near my face. I slither out, working my body until the tip of my tail touches the carpet before I shift back. My skin itches from the insulation, but it’s an afterthought as I glance at my pets.

Pimp’s nocturnal green eyes glow in the dark hallway, for once, not holding any judgment. Hooker’s clipped ears twitch as his nose scrunches. And I get the sense that they share my anger.

“I can’t take you with me,” I tell them as I stand. “I need to wash the insulation off my skin, and then I’ll get Carol and the guys back.”

Calm settles over me, but it’s just a ruse. I’ll bask in it while I calculate my next moves.

My shower is short and half-assed, only lasting long enough to scrub my skin and hair clean. The itching would be a distraction I can’t afford. The guys will be fine until I get there; I just need to wait until they’re all there.

I check the time and see that I’m forty minutes behind the minions with Walker. So, I dress at warp speed and tug my damp hair into a ponytail before I fetch my phone from the kitchen island.

I call Drew again, but I still get his voicemail.

My stomach fills with rocks and tension as I call Ali, but I push it aside. I can’t act irrationally. I can’t let my nature take over, only giving a hissed warning to avoid this confrontation.