Sweet Venom
Page 43

“Feet shoulder-width apart.” I demonstrate, opening my stance and bending slightly at the knees. “And drop your butt a little. It will give you a lower center of gravity and the ability to absorb more force through your legs.”
She mimics my stance, spreading her feet a little too wide and dropping a little too low. I circle her, nudging her feet inward and urging her back up a couple of inches.
“Good.” I move around to face her and, without warning, give her shoulder another shove. She wobbles back but doesn’t fall.
“Wow.” She grins as she maintains her footing. “That’s amazing.”
I shrug. “It’s simple physics.”
“But you have superstrength,” she argues. “If I can stand up when you—”
I give her another, harder shove that sends her back to the floor.
This time she pops back up before I can offer help. “Okay, point taken.”
We spend the next half hour working on her stance, giving her the best solid base before working on movement. I’m pushing against both her shoulders, leaning into the effort, while she resists by squatting deeper and leaning forward into me, when she asks, “Can I ask you something?”
Since I haven’t managed to knock her to the floor in ten minutes, I decide her stance is in place.
“Sure,” I say, releasing the pressure and proud to see her adjust her balance to stay in place, rather than falling forward. “What?”
“How do you find the monsters?” She starts to put her hands on her hips but must remember that it’s better to leave her arms hanging at her sides. “How did you know the minotaur was in that restaurant?”
“For the minotaur, I just followed my nose.”
“Oh, the smell!” Her nose wrinkles up in disgust. “It was awful. So you were in the neighborhood, so to speak, and caught the scent.”
“No, I was home.”
Her head jerks back. “You smelled it all the way over here? Chinatown is, what, two miles away?”
“I guess.”
“How is that possible?” she asks.
“Like a hunting dog,” I answer. “My sense of smell is highly tuned to eau de monster.”
Grace sniffs the air. “Do you think I can do that too?”
“Maybe.” I inhale but can’t sense anything over the stink of the sweaty gym. “Let’s go to the balcony and try it out.”
I feel her practically bouncing behind me as I head through the living room, to the library, and out onto the balcony beyond. Closing my eyes, I take in a deep breath through my nose, searching out anything that sounds warning bells.
Beside me, Grace does the same.
“I don’t smell anything but salt water,” she complains.
“Yeah,” I agree. “Me neither.”
“So the streets of San Francisco are safe from monsters at the moment?”
“From the kind that reek. There are some that smell pretty much normal—”
“Like the cobra lady,” Grace says. “I didn’t smell anything weird, and she was right next to me. How do you find that kind?”
I turn and lean back against the railing, looking at our reflections in the glass windows of the library. “Good old-fashioned footwork,” I explain. “Most nights I take a drive, patrolling the streets in Moira, eyes out for anything nonhuman.”
In the reflection, I see Grace nod. She stares out over the Bay as I stare at us. A few days ago, I would never have imagined discussing my life with anyone but Ursula. It feels kind of good to share it with someone else.
“There’s another thing you should know about,” I find myself saying before I can think better of it. “Our eyes.”
Grace turns, mirroring my stance against the railing. “Yeah, they’re the same silver gray.”
“No,” I say. “I mean, yes, they’re the same, but they are special. You remember how I said Medusa didn’t turn people to stone, she hypnotized them?”
“Yes.”
“Well.” I take a deep breath. “So can we.”
“What?” She scuffs at the concrete floor of the balcony. “Hypnotize people.”
I nod. “If you look someone directly in the eye, you can make them do whatever you want.”
Unless you’re the new and mysterious Nick, of course. But that’s a puzzle for another day.
“That’s—” She shakes her head, like it’s too much to accept. “How do you— How often have you—”
“I try not to use it unless absolutely necessary,” I explain, so she doesn’t think I’m out hypnotizing people left and right. “Usually only during a fight, if a human is in danger or getting in the way.”
She’s silent for a few long moments before saying, “That must be a very powerful feeling. To have people do what you want. To control someone that way.”
“I’ll admit, at first it was a little thrilling.” I don’t need to tell her about the time I convinced the owner of a flower shop I had already paid for the bouquet I wanted to give Ursula for Mother’s Day. Ursula made me earn the money and pay the man back threefold.
“It’s not a power to be used lightly,” I explain. Grace doesn’t seem like the type to abuse power, but you never know. “And the effects don’t last long. Just enough to get out of a bad situation.”
“Oh,” she says quietly. “Good.”