punish him...
Stay. Calm. Stay. In. Control.
But it was hard, in here. He was trapped in this cell, alone, feeling like he was boiling under a heavy lid, and the pressure was building up, and the lid was going to fly off.
It must be dark out by now, Doug figured. He wished he could just go to sleep. Fat chance. Lot of noise in the city jail. Prisoners jabbering, clattering around, laughing, the crazy ones babbling. One of them on that “bath salts” drug, hallucinating about monsters. “Creatures coming after me, after me, after me,” he gibbered. Purely imaginary. And it was ironic. Just two cells down from his, was a real creature who could turn into a were badger.
That’s what comes of being here, Doug thought angrily. Think of yourself as a monster.
When was that damned Grimm going to move him out of here? He’d done his part, recited the story they’d agreed on to Sergeant Wu. Thugs threatening him with guns, forcing him to work in the tunnel. Wu had seemed surprised that Nick and Hank believed the story about being forced into the gang. The sergeant would be even more surprised if he knew the real story.
Detective Burkhardt had promised to get him released or turned over to witness protection. But the wheels moved slowly in a place like this...
He couldn’t take much more. Couldn’t bear it if...
A clang made him twitch. He looked at the old-fashioned jail cell door, saw it shutting behind a new prisoner.
What the hell? Burkhardt promised I’d be alone...
The new guy in fresh orange jail-cell togs had an exotic look to his face, like he was maybe Egyptian or something. Dark eyes, high cheekbones. Looked like a bust Doug had seen of a pharaoh once. He looked like he might be about forty years old, with short black hair. There was something about the guy...
The new prisoner had a big bright smile as he noticed Doug on the top bunk.
“Hi! I’m Colney. What you in for?”
“Oh, got mixed up in a gang. Wasn’t my idea.” Doug sat up, dangled his legs over the side of the mattress. At least this guy was someone to talk to. Might help keep him calm. A distraction. “You?”
“Shoplifting jewelry.” The man laughed softly at his own foolishness. “Trying to impress a girl when I didn’t have any money. Picked expensive jewelry—felony stuff.” He sighed. “Might have to do some time in the state pen.”
Doug nodded sympathetically. “Tough luck. You missed dinner, too.”
“Oh, they fed me when I was being processed. Hey— that a deck of cards? You wanta play some hearts?”
“Where? I didn’t see any cards. I’d be playing solitaire...”
“On the lower bunk there...”
Doug jumped down off the top bunk, turned to look, saw there was nothing on the lower bunk...
And then he smelled it. Reptile musk.
Snake.
He’d detected something earlier—but all the anxiety had blurred his senses. This guy was Wesen. This guy was...
Doug felt the damp, teasing probe of a forked tongue on the back of his neck.
He snarled, hands balling into fists, he started to woge—but rough scaly fingers jerked his prison shirt up from behind and, before he could turn, fangs sank into the meat of his back, between his shoulder blades.
He shrieked and thrashed, feeling the burning venom pump into him. His back arched, going rigid of its own accord, as if his flesh was itself revolted at the depraved contact.
As the fangs let go and as the room went all murky red, Doug managed to half turn before he fell, so that he tipped onto his back. So rigid his body was like a statue that had lost its base. He struck the floor, but hardly felt it, he was so suffused with pain—and then the pain melted into something even more petrifying: the numbness that was spreading out from the bite.
Venom was invading his nervous system, its icy touch closing over his heart, tightening, squeezing.
Stopping it in mid beat.
He just had time to see the Königschlange in full woge as it stood triumphantly over him. Its
Stay. Calm. Stay. In. Control.
But it was hard, in here. He was trapped in this cell, alone, feeling like he was boiling under a heavy lid, and the pressure was building up, and the lid was going to fly off.
It must be dark out by now, Doug figured. He wished he could just go to sleep. Fat chance. Lot of noise in the city jail. Prisoners jabbering, clattering around, laughing, the crazy ones babbling. One of them on that “bath salts” drug, hallucinating about monsters. “Creatures coming after me, after me, after me,” he gibbered. Purely imaginary. And it was ironic. Just two cells down from his, was a real creature who could turn into a were badger.
That’s what comes of being here, Doug thought angrily. Think of yourself as a monster.
When was that damned Grimm going to move him out of here? He’d done his part, recited the story they’d agreed on to Sergeant Wu. Thugs threatening him with guns, forcing him to work in the tunnel. Wu had seemed surprised that Nick and Hank believed the story about being forced into the gang. The sergeant would be even more surprised if he knew the real story.
Detective Burkhardt had promised to get him released or turned over to witness protection. But the wheels moved slowly in a place like this...
He couldn’t take much more. Couldn’t bear it if...
A clang made him twitch. He looked at the old-fashioned jail cell door, saw it shutting behind a new prisoner.
What the hell? Burkhardt promised I’d be alone...
The new guy in fresh orange jail-cell togs had an exotic look to his face, like he was maybe Egyptian or something. Dark eyes, high cheekbones. Looked like a bust Doug had seen of a pharaoh once. He looked like he might be about forty years old, with short black hair. There was something about the guy...
The new prisoner had a big bright smile as he noticed Doug on the top bunk.
“Hi! I’m Colney. What you in for?”
“Oh, got mixed up in a gang. Wasn’t my idea.” Doug sat up, dangled his legs over the side of the mattress. At least this guy was someone to talk to. Might help keep him calm. A distraction. “You?”
“Shoplifting jewelry.” The man laughed softly at his own foolishness. “Trying to impress a girl when I didn’t have any money. Picked expensive jewelry—felony stuff.” He sighed. “Might have to do some time in the state pen.”
Doug nodded sympathetically. “Tough luck. You missed dinner, too.”
“Oh, they fed me when I was being processed. Hey— that a deck of cards? You wanta play some hearts?”
“Where? I didn’t see any cards. I’d be playing solitaire...”
“On the lower bunk there...”
Doug jumped down off the top bunk, turned to look, saw there was nothing on the lower bunk...
And then he smelled it. Reptile musk.
Snake.
He’d detected something earlier—but all the anxiety had blurred his senses. This guy was Wesen. This guy was...
Doug felt the damp, teasing probe of a forked tongue on the back of his neck.
He snarled, hands balling into fists, he started to woge—but rough scaly fingers jerked his prison shirt up from behind and, before he could turn, fangs sank into the meat of his back, between his shoulder blades.
He shrieked and thrashed, feeling the burning venom pump into him. His back arched, going rigid of its own accord, as if his flesh was itself revolted at the depraved contact.
As the fangs let go and as the room went all murky red, Doug managed to half turn before he fell, so that he tipped onto his back. So rigid his body was like a statue that had lost its base. He struck the floor, but hardly felt it, he was so suffused with pain—and then the pain melted into something even more petrifying: the numbness that was spreading out from the bite.
Venom was invading his nervous system, its icy touch closing over his heart, tightening, squeezing.
Stopping it in mid beat.
He just had time to see the Königschlange in full woge as it stood triumphantly over him. Its
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