The Vipera who had dedicated a toast was now slumped on the table, the blood wine mixing with his own as it seeped from the hole burned in his throat.
Some died quickly, some struggled for a protracted period as the poison ravaged their organs.
The death of a Nest and the mark of a new predator, in the matter of a minute.
3
THE POISONER
Present Day
Buffalo, New York
The darkness called me in the form of clicking.
My body is bare in a never-ending landscape.
Snap snap.
Something like the snapping of jaws, an eager hound, sounded around me in short spurts. A snap to my left, more snapping to my right, then a nip at my heel. I stumbled forward, but nothing was behind me. A nip at my calf, then behind. I jolted forward, walking away from whatever it might be, just to feel it again, more forceful this time, at my heels and at the back of my shoulder. I spun around to see a dark figure looming, dripping the same blood that stretched across the dark expanse.
A hand reached out and I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, with the wild rush of hope for freedom, only to be yanked so forcefully my chest landed on the ground. I couldn’t breathe, and the feeling of teeth clamping down on my neck robbed me of any hope.
Despite the terror, the draining feeling was replaced by a slow resurfacing of consciousness. The wet stains on the ceiling came into view in all their brown and gray glory. There were about thirty seconds of peace, a sense of relief returning before the throbbing set in.
I peeled my back from the floor, drenched in a cold sweat that made my nightgown cling and leave indentations on my skin.
The sun crept across the floor and up the wall, awakening the dust that fluttered to life as I rose to my feet.
The subtle crack of the steps on my descent to the ground floor were no interruption to the lively scene. The hum of chatter and the soft crackle of the fire tickled my ears before I caught the scent of freshly cooked porridge, coffee, and biscuits.
In the living room is where we mostly gathered, cozied up to the fireplace. Phoebe was chatting as she plucked berries from a bowl, popping them in her mouth and washing them down with unsweetened tea.
Adeline and Rebecca sat across from her on the opposite sofa, listening intently to whatever tale Phoebe was embellishing.
Adeline was picking at a pastry aimlessly as Rebecca’s arm draped across the back of the couch behind her, fiddling mindlessly with the lace of Adeline’s tea gown sleeve.
Sometimes I found myself jealous of their companionship. The way Rebecca looked only at Adeline as they conversed. Rebecca’s harsh brown eyes softened at the sight of her, a lingering of sorts. Not of hunger, but in a way where Adeline’s words were hypnotic, making Rebecca unable or unwilling to focus on much else.
Mary claimed the corner, lost in focus as she embroidered pink silk fabric. The quality of the silk meant we must have donewell with our endeavors recently. I admired her work ethic. It took dedication and discipline to work on your rest days.
Cordelia was next to Phoebe, nose buried in a book, though she would give an inattentive nod when Phoebe said something exceptionally agreeable or funny.
My stomach lurched, a rolling rumble reminding me of my more human needs.
“Alina!” A squeak came from the living room, followed by the soft clatter of a teacup.
I hadn’t even taken a few steps toward the kitchen before she was out of her seat and by my side.
“You’re... wet.” Phoebe’s smile pressed into a thin line as she gingerly held my arm. “Let me bring you breakfast.”
“Bad dream,” I mumbled, suddenly all too aware of the perspiration. “I can serve myself.”
“I’ll do it!” She pulled me along to the kitchen. The small oven hadn’t cooled down yet, acting as a second furnace to battle the chilly environment beyond the walls. “How did you sleep? I didn’t want to wake you since yourarelysleep in.”
“Like any other night.” I leaned against the table, a sullen slouch to my shoulders.
Phoebe paused mid-pour with the spoon, squinting at me. “Should I have... ?”
