“What is it you would like to know? I am an open book for now.” He sighed, leaning back against the wall.
“Were you born like this?”
“Yes, but not all of us are,” he answered. “Why do you kill people?”
“I poison men of an abusive nature,” I corrected him sternly. “Do not say it like what we do is the same.”
“You find me abusive?”
“Silas, youeatpeople. Yes, of course I would consider you abusive.” I shook my head at him. “What did you mean by not all of you are born this way?”
“Some are born, and some are made. It’s a bit complicated.” He shrugged.
“Indulge me.” I moved closer so I could lean on the same side of the nook as him.
“I was born. Two full-blooded Vipera can conceive, but it is difficult?—”
“Vipera?”
“Yes, one of the less offensive names for us through the ages,” he clarified. “Anyway, while conception is difficult, the efforts are worth it, since we live until we starve to death or have our heads taken off,” he continued. “The ones that are made are not as sturdy. It’s part of how the blood works if you die while the venom is inside you. It corrupts every part of your body as it poisons you. The difference is that corrupted humans get their life span cut in half, since they don’t have the natural capabilities to handle it for very long.”
“So, I could be one of you if I died after you bit me?” I glanced down at my bandaged wrist.
“You would have to die within six hours of being envenomed,” he explained, “but yes, you would turn, but you wouldn’t be corrupted.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“You are what we call a Mellifluous Host.”
“You mentioned it, but it doesn’t quite answer the question.”
“Hosts are just a by-product of our species diverging. That is why their blood is the richest, most sustainable. You are technically just dormant. So we believe somewhere along the way this random mutation made it possible for us to evolve.”
“Dormant?”
“Hosts have all the parts. But the body thinks of them as extra organs—I don’t remember the name.”
“Vestigial organs,” I responded quickly, as my eyes widened in wonder. “So you’re saying the venom makes the body recognize them in its panicked state before death?”
“Sounds right. I don’t know many technicalities about it, but yes. You would not be distinguishable from those that were born if you turned.”
“I don’t have extra teeth,” I pointed out.
He leaned over and tilted my chin up. “Open. I’ll show you.”
The blood rushed to my face, remembering his grip on my jaw the past few times, but I opened up to him. It was a good time to practice trust.
He placed the pad of his thumb on the roof of my mouth and pushed.
“Ow—” I muttered around his finger.
“Feel this?” He guided my hand to the spot he was pressing on.
I smoothed my finger over the top, feeling a protruding V on the roof of my mouth. I nodded.
“They’re under there.” He removed his finger from my mouth.
“Everyone has that.” I frowned.
