Page 19 of Reptile Dysfunction
Chapter Eight
Thad
“Mr. Fangborn! Look what I can do!”
Tommy launches himself into an enthusiastic but uncoordinated cannonball, splashing half the pool deck and several of my snakes. Sterling, the show-off, immediately shakes himself like a wet dog, sending droplets everywhere.
“That’s… something.” I wipe water from my face, then freeze. Sloane leans against the doorframe, hiding a smile behind her ever-present notebook. “What happened to ‘proper footwear on the pool deck’?”
“I’m wearing sneakers.” She points to what appear to be brand-new white shoes. “Business expense. Purely for journalistic research.”
“Naturally.” But my snakes are already reaching toward her, eager little turncoats that they are. Sterling postures like he’s about to be photographed for theTimeSnake of the Year.
“Besides,” she continues, moving closer, “how else am I supposed to observe the fearsome ex-enforcer in his natural habitat?”
“Natural habitat?” My snakes rise slightly in offense. “This is a public pool, not a nature preserve.”
“Could’ve fooled me. You’re definitely the apex predator here.” There’s laughter in her voice, but my heart skips anyway. She means it as a joke. I wish it was that simple.
Before I can respond, Dorothy shuffles in with her overstuffed swim bag, already chatting with Mabel about their latest book club selection. My senses pick up subtle changes in air pressure and the slight imbalance in Dorothy’s gait as she navigates the wet tiles.
“Dorothy.” Moving before I finish saying her name, I’m at her side in three long strides, catching her elbow just as her foot hits a slick patch and slides out from under her. “Let me take that bag.”
“Oh!” She clutches her chest dramatically, but I can hear her heart rate already steadying. “My hero!”
“Just good timing.” But my snakes are still alert, scanning for other potential hazards.
“It was not just good timing,” Sloane says from her spot near the wall. “Your snakes showed alarm before she even started to slip.”
Tommy, ever helpful, pipes up from the shallow end. “They do that all the time! Like when Jenny almost jumped in the deep end last week, or when I tried to sneak past the safety rope!”
“Enhanced perception,” I explain, trying to downplay it. “Nothing special.”
“Nothing special?” Dorothy pats my arm. “Dear, your snakes just saved me from breaking a hip. I’d say that’s quite special indeed.”
“Just doing my job.” But my snakes posture under the praise, especially Sterling, who’s showing off by demonstrating his most elegant alert pose.
“Enhanced perception, huh?” Sloane’s making notes, but her smile suggests she’s enjoying this far too much. “And I suppose the way your snakes all move in eerie sync when you sense danger is just coincidence?”
“They react to stimuli.”
“They react to everything.” She reaches up, and Sterling stretches to meet her hand. “Especially certain journalists.”
The warmth in her voice makes my heartbeat stumble… and then race. Since the kiss, everything’s shifted—like someone rewrote my instincts overnight. It’s dangerous. Reckless. My snakes haven’t stopped their pleased swaying since she arrived,making it impossible to maintain any pretense of professional distance.
“Mr. Fangborn!” Tommy’s voice cuts through the tension, thank the gods. “Can your snakes do that cool pattern thing again? The one they do when Ms. Whitaker’s here?”
Hot embarrassment blasts through me as several snakes attempt to recreate their “happy dance,” as the Silver Swimmers call it. Benedict Arnolds, every last one of them.
“I think,” Sloane says diplomatically, “Mr. Fangborn’s snakes have their own ideas about showing off.”
“Like when they get all swoopy and nice when you’re around?” Jenny pipes up innocently. “Dorothy says that’s because they liiiiike you.”
If it’s possible for snakes to blush, mine are definitely doing it now. Sterling actually tries to hide behind the others, his previous showboating forgotten in embarrassment.
“The Silver Swimmers talk too much,” I mutter, but Sloane just laughs.
“I think it’s sweet.” Her fingers brush Sterling’s scales gently. “They’re honest about what they want. Unlike some people I know.”
