Serpent's Kiss

By Layla Dorine

Bounty Hunter, psychic, snake shifter. Darian has all but been banished from his family for his visions, for his lineage, and for the way he lives his life. But when he meets Zaiden, he's left wondering if his visions might be the least of his worries.

While searching for their missing sibling, Zaiden and his sister, Kaandhal come across the last pure-blooded psy-clairvoyant of their kind. Unfortunately for them, Darian has no idea what he truly is and isn't much interested in learning or helping them locate their brother, Zxex.

A bounty hunter by trade, who's been all but banished from his family due to his visions, Darian's a bit cynical about his ability to be of any assistance, nevertheless, Zaiden brings him back to their home Rhumba, where Darian discovers that very little is what it seems.

With plots unfolding all around them and discoveries about his heritage leaving Darian reeling, he is left with the choice of whether to embrace who and what he is or spend every moment with them as a prisoner on the fringes of their society.

Add in a pesky little bond that only seems to grow the more time he and Zaiden spend together, and several factions looking to gain possession of him and Darian is left wondering if his visions just might be the least of his troubles.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Desolate Press
• Release date: Oct 20, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223940159

Layla Dorine

LAYLA DORINE lives among the sprawling prairies of Midwestern America, in a house with more cats than people. She loves hiking, fishing, swimming, martial arts, camping out, photography, traveling, and visiting museums and haunted places.   Layla got hooked on writing as a child and she hasn’t stopped writing since. Hard times, troubled times, the lives of her characters are never easy, but then what life is? The story is in the struggle, the journey, the triumphs and the falls. She writes about artists, musicians, loners, drifters, dreamers, hippies, bikers, truckers, hunters and all the other folks that she’s met and fallen in love with over the years. Sometimes she writes urban romance and sometimes its aliens crash landing near a roadside bar. When she isn’t writing, or wandering somewhere outdoors, she can often be found curled up with a good book and a kitty on her lap.

Book preview

A Desolate Press Publication

Osage, IA 50461

Acknowledgements

There is always a driving force behind any story, and I don’t just mean the author typing away at the keys. In the case of Serpent’s Kiss, there are several people that deserve thanks, praise, hugs and coffee for the help they gave me over the course of the story.

First and foremost, I’d like to thank my family for putting up with me, even when I go from a conversation with them to cussing out a character for popping into my head at the most inopportune time. Without your love, support and laughter it wouldn’t be so fun to sit down and write every day.

Huge thanks to my Beta readers (Jammi Geter and Michael McFee) who never let me get away with leaving things out. You’ve always been there to catch the inconsistencies and remind me that it’s okay to be a little more detailed, or a little less as the case may be. I always feel more confident submitting for publication after you all have taken a look.

Chapter 1

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Darrell groaned. His shoulder hurt, his lower back was screaming at him to please find it a heating pad or some ice, either one, it wasn’t going to be picky, and to top things off, his Ex had been blowing up his cell phone for the past two hours, leaving rambling streams of profanities between begging and threats. All in all, it had been a shit day and all Darrell wanted was to fall on his couch, pop some painkillers and wash them down with an ice-cold beer. From that point he didn’t really care what was on TV as long as the background noise drowned out reality. He’d about had it with reality for the day.

His keys clattered when they hit the battered end table, and in a rustle of leather he’d shed his jacket and dumped it on a chair. He pulled his gun from the holster on his back, checked that the safety was on and laid it on top of the jacket, shedding the holster next and then the leather throng that held his long hair back. Heavy, silken waves of black, red and gold shimmered as they spilled around his face and he rubbed at his temples, glad that the heavy mass was no longer pulling at them.

It was seven steps to the kitchen and he snatched the beer from the fridge as he was yanking open the drawer where he kept his Vicodin. The beer he used the edge of the counter to open, the sudden action sending a riot of pain reverberating up his arm. Two wasn’t going to cut it tonight, so he quickly shook three pills from the bottle and eyed how many were left. Son of a bitch, he was gonna have to go back to the doc’s and soon, that or he and Mr. Daniels and Mr. Morgan were gonna be getting far more up close and personal than they usually did.

As he turned around, already debating which would be the better option, a quick, questionless trip to the liquor store or thirty minutes parked on his ass in a waiting room and thirty-forty dealing with his doc, who also happened to be his brother. God, he wished Dami would give him a break with all the questions ‘cause his brother’s cerulean stare and folded arms never failed to crack Darrell just a little, or maybe what cracked him open and spilled his secrets was that looking at Dami was like looking at everything he was supposed to be, if he hadn’t been born damaged and flawed.

He caught sight of his mismatched eyes in the mirror as he headed to the living room, desperate to put the day behind him. As always, seeing those eyes reminded him of how defective he really was, and not just on the outside, but the inside too. His green eye was blind, save for those moments when it decided to peer into the soul of another and bring their future or past roaring like a waterfall of images through his mind.

The twisted part of him, the cold, sick, sadistic nature that set him apart as much as his stare, loved when those images spelled out pain, misfortune, and death, death was a high that left him without the need for drugs or the bottle gods. What kind of monster fed off the hurt of others the way vampires fed off blood, hell, he was worse than any bloodsucker, at least they spared their victims pain when they could, left them with pleasant, sometimes even erotic memories and licked the wound closed to hide where it had been. Him, he just busted lives open wide, sucking in all that delicious fear, doubt, paranoia, oh god but he loved when he got the paranoid ones, he’d fuck with them for days before allowing the visions to play out the way they were supposed to. Drop them a little hint here, a little clue there, let them know disaster was breathing down their necks and watch as they scrambled to do everything in their power to avoid it. Only there was never anything that they could do.

He was caught between self-loathing and longing for just the right kind of paranoid son of a bitch that might help him forget this day when his eyes landed on his couch. Sitting where he’d planned to drop his ass and rest was a woman with blood diamond scales running down her arms and the brightest ruby eyes he’d ever seen. Crimson lips parted to reveal a pair of brilliant white fangs and her hair was the color of sunsets, all red and orange hues spilling down her back. A pattern of scales ran up her forehead like a widow’s peak, and covered her cheekbones. Her ears were mere slits set against the silver and red prismatic colors and when she turned, he was sure he heard rattling and looked down to see a snake’s tail coiled on his plush leather cushions.

What. The. Fuck, he stammered, wishing he hadn’t taken off his gun.

She hissed, like lips peeled back, forked tongue darting out and flickering in his direction kind of hiss and he shrank back, ‘cause however messed up he was, she was way on the other side of normal.

Your crass words are offensive to my ears, she seethed, coils uncoiling and snaking toward him.

He took another step back, ‘til the backs of his legs hit the front of a chair and he dropped his ass in the lumpy thing.

Apologize, she ordered.

He opened his mouth to tell her to go to hell, but all that came out was a choked wheeze as something squeezed his throat so hard he was seeing red spots and haze.

You were told to apologize, a deeper, harsher voice ordered, and Darrell forced himself to focus, to grasp the coils around his neck and pull at the thick weight of them enough to catch a gasp of air.

Fuck. You! he gasped, then wished like hell he hadn’t said that because the crushing weight constricted more and no amount of clawing at it could buy him a single gulp of air. The haze grew, his vision beginning to go dark when at last the coils let up and he slumped backwards without them to hold him up. At least the chair caught him; he gave thanks for it while he sucked in as much air as he could, despite the soreness of his throat and the throbbing pain in his head.

I would not suggest taking that tone with me again, or using that kind of language, the female...thing said, and Darrell tried to focus on her again, while keeping his eye on the big piebald colored snakeman coiled inches to his left.

I have a name, and it is not ‘thing’, she informed him sternly.

You...you’re reading my mind, he choked out.

Not that it is very difficult, but yes, she informed him.

So if you have a name, what is it? he asked, doing his damnedest not to toss a couple four letter words in.

Kaandhal, she told him. My name is Kaandhal and he is Zaiden. We are here about our brother, Zxex.

Sorry, but I don’t know your brother, he told them, wishing they would get the hel...get out of his place so he could lay down, not like he had any plans on sleeping after seeing these guys, this was like something straight out of nightmares and freak shows. No, strike that, he was out of a freak show; these guys were nightmares all the way.

We’re no different than you, Darian son of Darshan, last of the pure blooded prophets of our race, Kaandhal stated as she studied him.

"Whoa, hang on a minute, Darrell spat. My name is Darrell, D. A. R. R. E. L. L. not Darian and my father’s name is..."

He choked on the words he was about to speak as images filled his head of his parents arguing, his mother’s anguished face, his father accusing her of cursing them all the moment she’d broken her vows to him and worse, when she’d given birth to another man’s son.

Now you see? she asked, her tone almost gentle.

That doesn’t explain why you’re here, he snapped, doing his best to deflect the question. He wasn’t even going to try to figure out what it all meant for him until long after this pair was gone and he’d had a good, hard dance with some smooth, strong whiskey.

As I said, we’re here about our brother Zxex, she began, calm in the face of all the anxiety rolling off of him.

For a moment he had to wonder if this was how his own victims felt, right before the end, then the crash of her words washed over him, and he blinked and asked her to repeat them.

She looked him dead in the eyes, locking his stare with her own. Where is he, Darian? I swear to you if you have caused him harm in any way, your death will be more painful than anything you could possibly imagine. I can shred you from the inside out and leave you broken and still living inside that shell you call a body.

Yeah, that was pretty much what he’d thought she said when her eyes were going all hypnotic and his mind wasn’t trying to flash to places best left buried. With sound roaring in his ears and fear creeping up his spine like a hand of ice and swords, his brain did the only thing left that it could possibly do and promptly shorted out, leaving him tipping sideways in the chair as everything slipped to a silent, merciful black.

***

Kaandhal sighed heavily as she watched Darian pass out in the lumpy, misshapen chair. Unfolding her legs, she stood, tail rattling as she stalked toward him. Zaiden stood beside the chair, his face twisted in a mixture of disgust and contempt.

He is nothing like I expected, Zaiden spat.

He is nothing like either of us hopped he’d be, but he is the only choice we have, Kaandhal said wearily. You know as well as I that the colony needs him, but perhaps we should have told father what we discovered when we first realized that it was him.

What I do not understand is how Zxex fell in with him in the first place. The purebloods have always done their level best to avoid the rest of us unless there was something that they desired. What could this one possibly have wanted from Zxex? Zaiden pondered as he glanced around the room. Sparsely furnished, but functional, shelves of movies and music lined the walls. There were weapons in plain sight, some blades, some firearms, a bow, a chess set that looked to be paused in mid game, a dart board with several darts sticking out of it, and some small metal robots perched upon the mantle.

Zaiden took a quick look at them and quickly became fascinated by the intricate patterns and precise detail. No one was the same, not in design and certainly not in paint scheme. Some looked new while others seemed to have been painted to denote dents and dings, scorch marks and wear. Seemed almost a waste of time for something that would simply sit there collecting dust, though Zaiden had to admit that he didn’t see any dust on them, or anywhere, really. He squinted around the room and noticed that not only did everything have its place, but it all seemed to be clean too. The neatness didn’t seem to mesh from the man who lay slumped in the chair, his arm brushing the floor, his long hair dangling a few inches away from it.

He had to admit that Darian was handsome though, despite the ink up his arms and old, worn clothing, however his attitude and the aura rolling off him was cold and dark. He did not seem to be a man who cared much for people, or his own kind, since the only scent in the house was Darian’s own. Perhaps he had been exiled. From all Zaiden had learned about the man so far, he was a bounty hunter and hired muscle, an occasional bodyguard though there had been conflicting reports as to whether that also included escort and bed companion.

There was blood on his hands that was for certain. Several sources had reported that he preferred those bounties that still came with the tag ‘dead or alive’ because that seemed to give him an excuse to shoot someone. Everything he’d learned only enhanced Zaiden’s curiosity regarding how his brother had come to be connected to this man.

Are you certain your sources were accurate? Kaandhal asked, giving voice to the very thoughts Zaiden had been having.

With as much as I paid them, they’d better be, he snarled, eyes snapping away from the figures on the mantle and back toward the unconscious man.

Tell me again what they told you? she requested.

That if we wanted anyone found in this city, Darian was the man to go to. I showed Petra Zxex’s picture, hoping that she would know where to find him, but she just shook her head and said that she did not. Then Angelo said we were in luck, because he recalled seeing Darian with Zxex at a gallery opening just a little over a month ago. I asked if he was certain and he showed me a photograph taken of the pair among other shots taken at the event. They were posted on a social media site.

You don’t think he was hunting our brother for someone, do you?

That is the first thing that came to mind. He could have met Zxex there and used the event as a means to get close to him, earned his trust and then betrayed him to whoever hired him to go after our brother in the first place.

He had better hope that isn’t the case, or so help me, I will take great pleasure in destroying him, seer or not.

Let’s not jump to conclusions just yet. When he awakes, we can question him at length, it is easy enough for you to determine if he is being truthful or not.

I hate waiting, she hissed.

Yes, sister, I know, he chuckled as she sat back on the couch, glaring at Darian, then the clock, then back to him again.

It didn’t take long for frustration to set in and she snatched up one of the couch cushions and began to beat Darian about the head and shoulders with it. When that failed to rouse him she went into the kitchen, returning a short time later with a glass pitcher filled with ice and water, gripping Darian by the hair, she tilted his head up and proceeded to pour the contents in his face until he awoke, gasping and choking. Coils rattling, she stalked to the kitchen to return the pitcher to its place while Darian fell into a sodden heap on the floor.

***

Wheezing and trying to get the water out of his lungs, Darrell huddled on the floor, trying to figure out how the hell he’d gotten himself into such a fucked up nightmare.

May we have your attention now please, Kaandhal asked as she stepped back into the room.

Lady, you can go fuck yourself right now, he snapped.

The blow that hit him was lightning fast, slamming into his side and flattening him to the floor. He looked up into Zaiden’s eyes as the man leaned over him, poised to strike, and frowned, because he had this inexplicable urge to simply turn his head to the side, bare his throat and beg him to do it. His hands itched to touch the snakeman and feel the scales beneath his fingers, the urge so strong he skimmed his hands along the edge of Zaiden's shirt. Shaking his head to quickly clear it, Darrell hooked his leg around Zaiden’s and bucked upward, rolling them both so he was on top, his forearm coming to rest on Zaiden’s throat as he looked over his shoulder at Kaandhal.

If you want your brother to keep on breathing, I suggest you tell him not to try that shit again, he warned her, anger flashing in his eyes along with something that made Kaandhal pause. She held up her hands and backed off, returning to her seat on the couch.

There is no reason for things to escalate to violence, she said calmly.

Funny, you were the one who threatened violence first, Darrell reminded her. Then glared back down at Zaiden. Now, I’m gonna back off nice and easy, and if you try any bullshit, I’m gonna shoot you and toss you both outta here, got it?

Zaiden’s eyes showed that he was clearly unhappy with the turn of events. He croaked out a yes and Darrell eased off on the pressure before backing up slowly, his hand slipping beneath the cushion of the chair even as his eyes remained on Zaiden. When he pulled his hand free there was a .357 in his grasp.

Get on over there and sit down next to her, and no bullshit either, he warned Zaiden. Waiting until the man complied before sinking down in his own chair, grimacing at how wet it was.

Now. What the fuck is all this about! Darrell demanded.

For the last time, I would ask that you refrain from using such vulgar terms, Kaandhal hissed.

Lady, you came into my house, threatened me, mind rolled me, and dumped ice water on my head, be lucky fuck is the worst thing you’ve heard me say, he complained.

Her eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms. He glared and took the safety off the weapon. When that didn’t prompt her into backing down, he huffed and threw his hands in the air, gun and all. Fine, I’ll lay off the F-bombs if only to get you people out of my Godda...my house faster, okay.

Thank you, she said, giving him a small smile. Now. As we were attempting to explain to you before, we sought you out in the hopes that you can lead us to our brother Zxex. We received information that he had been spotted in your company at a gallery opening...

Which gallery? he interrupted.

She frowned and shot a glance toward Zaiden, who shook his head, realizing he didn’t have that information.

It was about a month ago, Zaiden suppled.

Well Hel...errr, that um, could have been any number of places then, Darrell grumbled. Though I gotta be honest, if I had seen anyone wandering around looking like you two, well, them I would have noticed.

We do not appear in our true forms to humans, Kaandhal informed him. Or at least, not to most humans. They seem to have a nasty habit of freaking out over our appearances.

Zaiden reached into the breast pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a picture of Zxex. He would have appeared something like this.

Darrell took the photo, studied it, then handed it back with a shake of his head. Sorry, I don’t recognize him, and if he’d been one of my marks, I would remember.

Look at it again, you hardly glanced at it, Zaiden insisted.

Darrell rolled his eyes and took the photo back, studying it longer this time. The guy looked a little like his ex, to be honest, which shook him for a moment, but there were too many differences for it to be Kyle.

I’m sorry, he said, handing it back a second time. But I haven’t seen him.

Kaandhal sighed heavily. You speak the truth.

No shit, I don’t make it a habit of lying to freaky snake people who might decide I’d make a good meal, he pointed out.

We are not so vulgar that we would eat you simply for displeasing us, Kaandhal replied wearily.

I wouldn’t be opposed to it, however, with the right sauce, simply because he is getting on my nerves, Zaiden growled.

You know where the door is, feel free to use it, in fact, I insist on it, since I’ve answered your question.

It is not so simple, Kaandhal explained. We need your expertise to help find him. We lack the knowledge of this district that you possess. In addition, now that we have located you, there are many questions we wish to ask, like where the rest of your family can be found and why you are misusing your abilities so irresponsibly?

I don’t think that is any of your business, Darrell informed her. Suffice it to say my family and I are estranged and I work very hard to keep it that way.

The ringing of her phone cut off whatever reply she might have had. Darrell and Zaiden glared at one another in tense silence as she spoke into the phone in a language that seemed almost oddly familiar, though Darrell couldn’t place where he’d heard it before. His mind however raced to translate it and he was shocked to find that he actually could make out several words.

I have to return to the compound, she announced as soon as she’d snapped the phone closed. She was already on her feet and making her way toward the door, tail rattling the entire way.

Thank the gods for small favors, Darrell muttered.

Zaiden will remain with you until Zxex is found, she said, and without waiting for him to protest, she was out the door in a slither of coils and a rattle of her tail.

FUUUUUUUCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKK! Darrell groaned as he closed his eyes and slumped in the chair.

Dumb. He realized it seconds too late, as Zaiden pinned him by the throat and made quick work of disarming him.

You will not be needing this, Zaiden declared, his eyes peering into Darrell’s as he pocketed the weapon. Nor do I need to hear any more of that vulgar filth spilling from your mouth, understood?

Darrell’s eyes narrowed, he tried to break the hold, but Zaiden just pressed harder.

Do we have an understanding!

Yeah, fine, whatever! Darrell spat, glaring as Zaiden backed up and returned to his seat on the couch.

Silence stretched between them, Darrell rubbed his throat because fuck, that hurt, and it hadn’t helped his shoulder any either. Whatever he’d done to deserve the misery, and the imposition, he was willing to apologize for if it would get this guy to go away.

It is not a matter of what you did or did not do, it simply is the way things are, the snakeman told him, and Darrell groaned, annoyed.

Beer? Darrell finally offered, getting up to get a second one. The snakeman moved faster than Darrell could track, putting himself between Darrell and the fridge.

You don’t need another one, or those pills I can already smell coursing through you. You can also cease thinking of me as snakeman; I’ve given you my name.

Why don’t you do me a favor and stop reading my mind, Darrell grumbled, moving to reach around him. Zaiden simply smacked his hand away.

When you learn to close your mind, it will no longer be so easy to read, Zaiden pointed out. Inside however, the big man was troubled. It should not have been so easy for him to read Darian’s thoughts. He did not share his sister’s ability to pry into other’s minds. Either he truly lacked any and all thought control, or there was an underlying bond already weaving a thread between them.

You wanna move now? Darrell demanded.

A heavy, iron-like hand shot out, shoving Darrell against the wall and pinning him there. With this other hand he ripped open the refrigerator door and pulled out the six packs, smashing them on the ground. The hiss and pop of breaking bottles and spitting beer filled the room. Darrell glared down in disbelief, then shoved at the arm holding him. It didn’t move.

Now that I have your attention, please allow me to make something very clear. Until my brother is found, you will imbibe nothing that will dull your senses. Nor will you pursue anymore individuals for cash. Your soul focus will be on Zxex.

And how the fuck am I...

Darrell choked, gasping as the swirling snake eyes made him forget how to breathe.

You will control your language, Zaiden said evenly before breaking control.

Darrell blinked and reached to rub his throat even though Zaiden hadn’t touched it.

Fine, but I have bills to pay, so unless you plan to pay for my time, you can forget about having my complete attention, Darrell said petulantly

How is it that a son from such a respected line has come to find himself living in such coarse and squalid conditions?

First off, my folks are rich, but I wouldn’t necessarily refer to them as respected, and second, I’d rather live here than with those judgmental... his voice trailed off when he was unable to think of a way to phrase it without swearing.

Zaiden wrinkled his nose You would toss your family aside so callously?

Darrell’s eyes went wide. More like they’re the ones who cast me out. You have no idea what it’s like to be the oddball in a family of perfect people.

Zaiden caught the ragged edge of pain that accompanied his words and backed down.

I learned long ago that they feared my gifts, so I keep my distance unless they order me home, it’s better for everyone that way. Now, you wanna back off please so I can clean up this mess? Just 'cause I live in a crappy neighborhood doesn’t mean I keep my place like a pigsty.

Zaiden’s eyes glanced around, much as they had in the living room. He took in the orderly containers on the counter and the clean dishes neatly resting in a rack. Everything was in its place. A fact that continued to surprise Zaiden when he took in the appearance of the man who stood in front of him. Darrell’s hair was a bit longer than most of his people’s males chose to wear theirs, and those tattoos, Zaiden found himself sneering at the skulls and dragons. There were metal piercings in one ear and both eyebrows and Zaiden was certain he’d caught site of the flicker of one in his tongue when he spoke. Still, upon closer inspection, Zaiden noted that his clothing was clean and clearly functional, allowing him to blend in with the element he was hunting.

Darrell ran a hand through his hair, still waiting for Zaiden to step back. When at last he did, Darrell knelt and began picking up broken glass before mopping the floor. When he was done, he washed his hands and retrieved another pill, only to have the bottle taken away and the pills dumped down the garbage disposal, which Zaiden quickly turned on.

Thanks, Darrell muttered sarcastically I’ll just go lie on the couch and suffer.

Flopping on the couch Darrell flipped on the TV only to have Zaiden turn it off again.

Where do we begin looking for my brother? Zaiden asked.

Aren’t you suppose to tell me where you lost him? Darrell asked as he tossed the remote aside.

Zxex left home over a year ago and cut all communications, we received word about a week back that he’d been seen in the local art district quite frequently.

Then why not just go there yourself? Darrell asked.

We’ve tried, to no avail, however, your name was suggested several times with the implication that you could find anyone.

Yeah, well, I hope they’ll forgive me for not thanking them for sending you my way, Darrell muttered. Look. Do you even have a place to start? What are his likes, his dislikes?

Zaiden shook his head. I know nothing about this portion of my brother’s life or what he would have found out here among the humans.

Joy. Darrell sighed. That’s going to slow us down.

I do not believe my brother wishes to be found, be that as it may, there are reasons he is not going to be left a choice in the matter.

"Hey, look. If this is some kidnapping or intervention sh...err thing, then count me