Limitless Evolution As a Snake

"Matthew?" she says, voice all soft and hopeful. "Are you feeling unwell, darling?"

I hold that awkward silence for a while, just to really let her marinate in it. Her wings stop twitching; she’s completely still now, watching me like I’m about to keel over right here in the booth.

Then I let out the world’s most anticlimactic burp.

"Oh damn, excuse me," I say, patting my chest. "Sorry, that coffee’s got some kick to it. Really good stuff actually, might grab another one."

Channel’s shoulders slump a fraction, the hope draining from her face like someone pulled the plug on a bathtub, or chucked a hair dryer in it, up to you.

[system: Mate, this isn’t a mission. You don’t have to do this; if you die, I will be so bored.]

I ignore Old Mate and smile at her, nice and easy.

"Hey, you mind grabbing me another one of those? Same thing. Just put it on my tab."

There’s a solid three seconds where Channel just stares at me, and I can basically see the gears grinding behind her eyes, some little error message popping up that says THIS WAS NOT IN THE BRIEFING.

"Uh," she says. "Huh, okay, are you sure you’re ok? I mean, yeah, I can do that."

She stands up, smooths down her skirt with hands that are very obviously not as steady as she wants them to be, and clicks off toward the counter on those long legs, wings held stiff and awkward behind her like she forgot how to fold them properly.

[System: SHE JUST TRIED TO MURDER YOU, AND YOU ORDERED SECONDS. FROM HER. THE POISON LADY. YOU ARE SENDING THE POISON LADY BACK FOR MORE POISON.]

He watched her walk away. Yeah, that was the whole point, wasn’t it?

[SYSTEM: THE POINT OF WHAT, DYING TWICE IN ONE AFTERNOON?]

No. The point was watching her squirm. Look at her. She didn’t know what to do with her hands right now.

Old Mate goes quiet for a second, and I can practically feel him rubbing his temples somewhere in the back of my skull.

[SYSTEM: Okay. Fair, ten out of ten. What have I made? What have I done? Do you want IP for this? Of course you do. Okay, if you don’t die.]

Told you I’d figure out my special something eventually.

[System: I didn’t mean unhinged fuckwit who taunts his own assassin with bevy orders," but sure, I’ll take it.]

I settle back into the booth, feeling warm and loose and pleased with myself, watching Channel’s back stiffen up at the counter like she can feel me grinning at her from across the room. She probably can. I’ve got a feeling that’s part of why this is so fun.

[System: You are a sick puppy, you know that? This is the most self-sabotage we’ve managed since you drank that entire bottle of Midori and tried to fight a zoo elephant.]

Old Mate, that never happened.

[System: but it would be great if it did.]

She comes back a minute later, hips swaying that same slow sway, coffee cup balanced in one hand like she’s carrying a tray at some fancy restaurant instead of walking back to serve poison to the guy she’s supposed to be killing.

Her face has gone back to soft and sweet, that whole devoted girlfriend look slotted back into place, but I can see the crack in it now. Once you know what to look for, you can’t unsee it.

Channel sets the cup down in front of me, and I reach out with my tail, curling the tip around the handle nice and slow. Her eyes track the movement, and something flickers behind them, quick, gone before I can really name it.

I lift the cup halfway to my mouth, then I stop.

"Actually, you know what, never mind," I mutter, setting it back down. "Forget the coffee. Why don’t we just head back to my place instead? Way safer there. Better drinks too, honestly; this place is kind of a dump when you think about it."

Channel’s smile doesn’t move, but something behind her eyes absolutely explodes. I watch her hand twitch where it’s resting on the table, just a little spasm, like her whole body wants to lunge across and strangle me, but her brain hasn’t caught up yet.

[System: mate, her wings just went stiff as a board, look at that, that’s not excitement, that’s a woman planning a murder in real time]

Yeah I see it too.

"Oh my god," she says, and her voice comes out breathy, delighted, absolutely dripping with fake surprise. "Your place? Are you sure, Matthew?"

She twirls a strand of that perfect blonde hair around one finger, tilting her head, going full cute-confused-girlfriend mode like she just got asked to prom. Somewhere underneath all that sugar I can practically hear her teeth grinding.

"Yeah, positive," I tease, getting up and stretching, taking my sweet time about it. "C’mon. It’s not far; it’s just upstairs."

[System: She’s gonna kill you in your own kitchen, you know that, right? This is not a safety upgrade, mate; this is delivering yourself gift wrapped]

Maybe. But if she wanted me dead quick and clean, she’d have just done it already instead of sitting through watching me drink the coffee and not die. Something else is going on with her, and I wanna know what it is before she figures out what’s going on with me.

Channel clings to the side of me, pressing close, all warmth and floral perfume and murder intent, and together we walk out of the cafe like the world’s most photogenic couple.

I wrap my tail around Channel’s waist, real gentle, like I’m just being a nice guy and not currently guiding a woman who wants me dead toward my own apartment. She lets out a soft little gasp when my scales touch her back. A perfectly normal reaction when a predator wraps around you. She’s finally starting to understand just how scary I can be.

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