Page 55 of Serpentine Valentine
The warm light of vintage lamps, some draped with gauzy scarves, filled the room with golden warmth and gilded the heavy antique furniture. A wrought-iron bed was pushed against the far wall, made with black and gray linen sheets and piled with soft, wrinkled pillows. Beneath it a faded Persian rug, one of many layered over the big space. There were remnants of a carpet picnic by the other wall, which was lined with stacks upon stacks of yellowed, well-loved books. In the corner amid the stacks sat an overstuffed leather chair layered with cozy blankets, a standing reading lamp curling over the arm. The windowsill next to it was burdened with a bronze platter of melted, stacked candles and an oldbrass looking glass.
It smelled of old books and incense, that burning, honeyed smell of Lex herself.
I loved it.
Even the large glass enclosure built into one corner that housed an enormous black and brown snake.
I moved closer even though a cold trickle of fear dripped down my spine.
The serpent was coiled loosely on an angled flat rock, sunning itself in the warm red light cast by the heat lamp within. It lifted its head on my approach, fixing me with shrewd black eyes.
“His name is Chrysaor,” Lex said, startling me with her silent approach. “He’s a Timber rattlesnake.”
“I didn’t know you could keep rattlesnakes as pets.”
“It’s not recommended for the faint of heart,” she agreed, touching her fingers lightly to the glass.
Her snake moved toward her instantly, his long body undulating smoothly, scales shining gold and black.
“He’s beautiful,” I admitted, a little surprised to find him so.
“I’m glad you think so. Most people are afraid of snakes.”
“Most people are afraid of you.”
We both seemed startled by my words, our gazes catching on each other.
She seemed softer somehow, up here in the safety and seclusion of her own den. Less dangerous and more understandable, much like seeing her snake in his own habitat.
“But not you,” she confirmed, cocking her head in that reptilian way she had.
“Not me,” I agreed, more breath than words as I found the courage to step closer. “You make me feel a lot of things I’ve never felt before, butnot fear.”
She raised an arched black brow. “I wouldn’t blame you. You just watched me beat a man half to death. That wasn’t a random act for me, Lux. If you’re the light, I’m the darkness. Violence becomes me like kindness does you.”
“Maybe I need a little violence in my life. Maybe I like a little chaos,” I taunted, boldly stepping even closer so that our breasts brushed and our breaths comingled. “Maybe I long for your brand of darkness.”
“Don’t play with wild animals unless you’re ready to get bit,” she warned.
I canted my head to the side, baring my throat where she’d once sunk her teeth. “I want your teeth on my throat more than I’ve ever wanted someone else’s mouth against my lips.”
A little shiver moved through her, and her eyes burned like banked coals under the shadow of her brows.
For one suspended second, I thought she would kiss me, and when she hesitated, I thought my heart might burst with longing.
But she didn’t.
She took one large step away from me and turned to walk toward the stairs. “I drew you a bath. It should help to sober you up and make you feel better. There is a spare toothbrush on the sink basin, too. I’ll make you some ginger tea to settle your stomach while you get in.”
Before I could protest, she disappeared into the dark mouth of the stairwell.
A sigh unwound from me like a spool of thread.
The bathroom attached to her room was cramped, but Lex had made it suit the aesthetic all the same. A full-size clawfoot tub took up the entire back wall, and a skylight spilled silver light directly on top of the gleaming bubbles frothing across the surface. She lit beeswax candles on the rim of the sink and in a wide circle around the tub. Music playedfrom a speaker she’d placed on the closed toilet lid, Hozier’s smoky voice filling the room like steam.
I shed my clothes without hesitation, grateful to be rid of the stink of vomit and sweat. It was impossible not to catch my reflection in the large gilt mirror over the little sink. Pale skin smattered with freckles across my shoulders, breasts, and the tops of my strong thighs. My body was taut with strength, but my waist was small and lean, my ass dense and round with muscle from years of field hockey. My breasts were small, perky, and topped like sundaes with bright cherry nipples. I wondered as I stared at my body with new eyes, withhereyes, if Lex might like it.
After I brushed my teeth, I used a black velvet ribbon on the sink ledge to tie my hair off my back before moving to dip a toe in the tub. The water was almost too hot, but I settled beneath the surface with only a long hiss and instantly relaxed in the heat. Lex was right—the last of my drunkenness seemed to leech out into the fragrant water, leaving me sober and sleepy.
