Page 86 of Venomous as a Snake

Three men step outside, leaving four cowering in the house.

“If they aren’t back in ten minutes, follow them,” Clay orders as he storms down the hallway toward the bedrooms.

His temporary home is massive, but it’s empty. Murmured conversation travels, bouncing off the walls, before reaching my ears. More men wait in a backroom somewhere, their hearts racing as adrenaline sets in.

They’re predators.

The minions in our sights are prey animals or lowly predators who accepted the wrong job offer, becoming sacrifices to help Clay get what he wants most.

As soon as the first few left the safety of this house, they became Clay’s pawns, who should have stayed out of the way. Kody no longer cares who they were before this moment.

I don’t really care either.

A masculine grunt sounds from somewhere outside.

Then there’s a startled shriek, and everything falls silent.

Drew chuckles. “Kody kills me. She’s a thirteen-foot king cobra with a bag of grenades and a rifle strapped to her back—”

“I hear a but in there…” Collin drawls, leaning forward to flash the honey badger a grin.

A bullet slams into the kitchen wall across from us, and Walker growls.

“That was too fucking close,” he shouts for Kody to hear, then lowers his voice. “The but is: she’s a five-foot-four menace to my fucking health.”

“Do you really think she has a rifle?” Forrest asks.

“Who knows?” Drew and Walker say in unison.

I try to shrug. “She has good aim, though.”

I park my car a half mile from Clay’s house and follow the map on my phone to his driveway. Before my feet touch the pavement, I search for cameras or sensors.

Night vision is a cool perk in moments like this.

I’m not surprised when I find no security. He’s used his father’s name for so long, he assumes people wouldn’t dare act against him.

My steps are silent as I draw closer to the massive ranch-style home. The soft soles of my shoes do nothing to protect my feet from the few small rocks I encounter. But the boots in my backpack will.

Lights shine through every window. Shadowy figures stand beside them, peeking through the blinds without actually seeing anything. There are too many places to hide in this yard.

I scope out the porch and corners rounding to the backyard, but there’s no movement outside the house. The walls muffle most of the inside sound, only letting me catch that there are people talking. I can’t make the voices out, though. It all fades to ambient noise as I sneak around.

The flood lights flicker on as I test their distance, but no one rushes out to greet me.

I make a split decision to start this fight now instead of waiting any longer.

It’s already taken long enough.

I tiptoe across the porch and bang the side of my fist against the front door.

Then I slink into the shadows, watching for my prey to leave the safety of their den. Venom pools in my mouth as I run my tongue along my teeth, awaiting my chance to strike.

Two minutes pass before minions come outside to find me. They split up as they step off the porch, and I stalk them from the bushes.

The first minion to find me grunts when I uppercut him, blood trickling from his mouth as he chomps down on his tongue. He shrieks in anger, reminding me of foxes during mating season. I duck under his counter-swing, putting distance between us as I draw my gun.

The bullet grazes his arm and flies through a window.