“But it’s not drinking you do. It’s more like—” Potter scrunched up his face. “It’s more like sucking.”
“Drink or suck, it’s all the same.”
“Begging your pardon, boss, but a drink is when it’s in a bottle or a glass. Not when it’s skin.”
Logan said, “I’d as soon suck swamp water as what you do. How’d you ever get started, anyhow?”
“It was back when I was hunting Apaches, before I formed my own company,” Venom explained. “Kirker and me and some others were in the desert, tracking Chiricahuas. Little did we guess at the time but the red bastards led us out there on purpose, thinking we’d die of thirst. And we damn near did. We ran out of water and separated to hunt for a tank or a spring, anything.” He chuckled at the memory. “Do you know what saved me?”
No one hazarded a guess.
“I’ll tell you. It was a Chiricahua buck. He’d hid behind a cactus and didn’t think I’d spotted him, but he made the mistake of blinking. I scalped him and it started to bleed, and the blood set me to thinking how thirsty I was, and the next thing I knew, I stuck a finger in my mouth and sucked the blood off.”
“Injun blood,” said Calvert. He was typically the quietest of the bunch.
“Wet is wet,” Venom retorted. “Just the little I sucked made me feel better so I smeared more on my finger and sucked that off.” He bent over the Arapaho and peeled off the scalp as he might peel an orange. Then, holding it up for them to see, he smacked his lips. “I reckon you know what I did next.”
Potter turned away. “I can’t watch. It makes me sick to my stomach every single time.”
“You damned weak sister.” Venom held the scalp in both hands so the blood-soaked skin side faced him. Then, slowly, methodically, he commenced to suck on the skin and to swallow with relish.
“You couldn’t pay me to do that,” Tibbet remarked.
“I’d die of thirst first,” the man they called Ryson said.
Venom stopped sucking and grinned, his mouth and chin smeared bright scarlet. “Potter’s not the only weak sister. But that’s all right. It leaves more of the sauce for me.”
“The sauce?” Tibbet repeated.
“The blood, stupid.” Venom sucked, and beamed, his teeth gleaming bright red. “It’s too bad they don’t sell blood in bottles. I’d drink that before I’d drink whiskey.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, boss,” Potter said, “but you’re loco.”
Nadine Venom laughed.
Chapter Four
Evelyn King froze every muscle in her body. One bite from the rattler and its deadly poison would course through her veins. Even if her friends sucked out the poison there was no guarantee she would live. She stared into the vertical slits of the angry serpent’s eyes, and a chill ran down her spine. It was poised to sink its fangs into her flesh.
There was the twang of a bowstring. An arrow cored the rattler’s head and imbedded itself in the ground, pinning the rattlesnake to the earth, and the snake, although dead, went into a paroxysm of thrashing and coiling and rattling its tail.
Evelyn swallowed and let out the breath she had been holding. Strong hands gripped her and pulled her to her feet. Her eyes met those of the archer and what she saw in them sent a different kind of tingle down her spine.
Dega thought his heart would burst when the snake went to strike. He had notched a shaft and let fly almost before his brain realized what his body was doing. Half fearful Evelyn had already been bitten, he vaulted from his horse and helped her up. “You be all right?” he anxiously asked.
“A little bruised, is all.” Evelyn’s arms were warm where he touched them. “Thank you for saving me. You’re awful quick with that bow.”
“I worry—” Dega said, and stopped. His voice sounded husky and his throat was oddly tight. Letting go, he stepped back and slung his bow over his shoulder. “I glad you no hurt.”
The others brought their mounts in close. Waku leaned down and put a hand on Evelyn’s shoulder.
“Are you sure you are not hurt, Evelyn King?”
“I’m fine. Really.”
Teni had caught the mare before it could run off, and now she held out the reins. “Here you are,” she said in the Nansusequa tongue.
“Thank you.” Evelyn felt slightly embarrassed. The mishap wasn’t her fault, but being unhorsed was always unsettling. She checked that her Hawken hadn’t been damaged in the fall, then climbed back on.
Dega placed his foot on the snake just below the head and extracted his arrow. It took some doing. The barbed tip became caught in the skull and he used his knife to pry it free. Wiping the shaft clean on the grass, he slid the arrow into his quiver.
Moving on, they stayed well shy of the prairie dog town. Twice they spotted rattlers sunning themselves.
It occurred to Evelyn that they should have brought the dead snake with them and chopped it up for supper. Not that she was all that partial to snake meat. She’d eaten it on occasion, but she much preferred venison or rabbit or squirrel. It wasn’t that snake meat had a bad taste. In fact, it was quite good. It was the notion of eating snake. Crawly things were her least favorite creatures in all creation.
Toward the middle of the afternoon Dega brought his mount up next to the mare and rode at Evelyn’s side until he mustered the courage to ask, “You like me, Evelyn?”
“I like you just fine,” Evelyn admitted. “You’re just about the best friend I’ve ever had.”
“Friend.” Dega had hoped she might like him a little bit more. He didn’t have the white words to express what he wanted to say, and he was worried he might offend her if he didn’t do it right.
“Someone you care for a great deal. Someone who means the world to you.”
“I know what friend be.”
Evelyn wondered why he sounded upset. “Why did you ask? Did you think I don’t like you?”
“Oh. No. I know you like,” Dega assured her. She had misunderstood. Added proof that he must be careful what he said and particularly how he said it. “I like you much, too.”
“Did you have friends like me back in your village?” Evelyn asked without thinking, and regretted it when his face mirrored sadness.
“Many friends, yes.”
Evelyn knew she should let it drop, but she wanted to know. “Female friends?”
Dega was thinking of the massacre, of the many relatives and friends he lost. “Many females, yes.”
“Oh.” Evelyn didn’t like the sound of that. She wondered if maybe there had been a special girl, but she was afraid to ask.
Up ahead, Tihikanima looked back at them and then turned to her husband. “Will you like her as a daughter-in-law?”
In the distance were specks that might be large animals, and Waku was intent on learning if they were buffalo. “What are you talking about?”
“Dega and Evelyn. When they are husband and wife, she will be part of our family.”
Waku tore his gaze from the specks to thoughtfully regard his wife. “Do you truly believe it will come to that?”
“Do you have eyes? She has touched our son’s heart. You have only to look at his face when he looks at her.”
Adopting a casual air, Waku gazed about them, making it a point to gaze behind them, as well. “I see no difference than when he looks at you or me.”
Tihi indulged in an exaggerated sigh. “That is because you are a man. You are not sensitive to feelings, as women are.”
“I am as sensitive as you.” Waku was mildly offended. He took great pains to be the best husband and father he could be.