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chuckled, wicked. “It’ll warm you up. Soothe your insides.”
    Gagging, she fell to her knees at the water’s edge, stuck her mouth in the stream and drank. With relief, her thirst started to subside. After several mouthfuls, she stood and turned. Water had soaked the ends of her waist-length hair as had some mud. When the frosty ends touched her skin, she jumped and swore. He snorted at her noticeable discomfort. His face revealed a look she’d seen before, on male kelarians, especially after they’d had too much of what humans called alcohol.
    “I’d be happy to help warm you up, too.” As he spoke, he stood.
    “You can take your foul thoughts and go straight to your—”
    “Hey, I’m trying to be chivalrous.” And before Venus realized the tainted plan he’d devised, he grabbed her by the shoulders and kissed her.
    Until that moment, Venus hadn’t considered what her first kiss would feel like, but she knew this wasn’t right. Hard, full of anger. He pressed her lips open and she tasted the alcohol on his tongue, sickly sweet. His arms locked around her, crushing her body to his. She sensed a pleading in his embrace, a longing for an unfulfilled wish.
    “Release her. Now,” Zaren yelled.
    The human pushed Venus away, wiping his mouth.
    “Come on, Venus,” Zaren grabbed her hand, pulling her from the foul boy.
    She watched stunned, as the brooding human smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
    “Venus. Funny,” he said, his words full of venom, like her name had been laced with poison.
    She pulled her hand from Zaren’s. Anger ripped through her along with a gripping sadness at the loss of her family and her irrihunter. That this boy had the audacity to find humor in her name, at her, Princess Venus, daughter of King and Queen Carania, rulers of Alayeah, the biggest kingdoms in all of Kelari, was unacceptable. How dare he? She wouldn’t have it. Her heart ached and her body hurt, but she ignored the pain. Head held high, she marched over and slapped his face. Hard.
    “Don’t ever touch me again.” She gave him a defiant stare, daring him to try.
    “Well, Venus, you’ve no reason to worry. Your name alone will keep me as far from you as possible. The Goddess of Love, how ironic.” He chuckled without humor and turned. Head in his hands he sunk onto the dead stump.
    At the sight of him in such a condition, her anger abated, replaced by an unbidden grief. She pushed the bizarre feelings away with vehemence. Surprised she felt anything but furious at him, she made her way to Zaren.
    When they were a small distance away, Venus said, “What an annoying human. If I never see him again, it’ll be too soon.”
    Zaren cleared his throat and walked ahead.
    “What?” Venus asked, catching up and grabbing his arm.
    “That annoying human is Michael, the boy you’re required to help.” He took a step forward, but stopped. “Humans and love,” he grumbled and stomped ahead.
    Venus stopped and looked back, profoundly shocked. “But—”
    He sighed. “Clothes, first.”

8 . Angel
     
    Michael rubbed his eyes, trying to forget everything. His deadbeat father and the way he’d loved to carve into Michael with anything sharp. His mother and all of her . . . B.S. Cheverly! School! He could go on, but he didn’t want too. The alcohol had almost worked, almost numbed him into oblivion. Then Venus had come along. Beautiful, glowering Venus. He hated her. Hated that she hadn’t put him out of his misery. He let out a harsh laugh, remembering the way she’d looked when he first saw her. Like an angel he’d seen in a book as a child.
    The Angel of Death.
    Rising, he went to the red thermos and picked it up. A swig or two remained and he downed it rapidly. Not even the burn could soothe his angry soul. Tossing the container into the water, he watched it sink and then bob back to the surface. When it’d floated out of sight, he turned back to his dead, hollowed out log and sat.
    Michael pulled the gun