Page 199 of Craving Venom
“Got it,” Tria replies.
Carlos gives us a short nod before slipping away without another word.
The guard watches him leave but doesn’t comment.
We end up in the common room, which feels a little more suffocating than the other parts of the prison.
There’s a vending machine against the far wall, stocked with snacks that seem way too ordinary for a place this messed up. I swipe my temporary badge over the machine’s scanner, and it gives a cheerful beep.
“Seriously?” Tria raises a brow, watching me as the muffin drops with a dull thud.
“Comfort food.” I crouch to grab it. “Want one?”
Tria hesitates. “You’re really eating prison food?”
“It’s sealed.” I wave the plastic-wrapped muffin in her face. “I’ll take my chances.”
She rolls her eyes, but her smile tugs at the corner of her mouth.
“Fine,” she relents. “But if I get food poisoning, I’m haunting you.”
I swipe again, sending the second muffin tumbling into the tray.
We head toward an empty table and settle into the metal chairs. Around us, the room buzzes with conversations and the faint glow of the TV, but none of it sinks in.
“Here.” I shove the muffin toward her.
Tria unwraps it, tearing a small piece off before popping it into her mouth. I do the same, though the knot still twisting in my stomach makes it hard to enjoy.
“So.” Tria swallows, eyeing me carefully. “That cell back there. What was that?”
“Nothing,” I say too quickly, staring down at the muffin. “It was just… weird.”
“Uh-huh.” She narrows her eyes. “And by ‘weird,’ you mean what? You had a psychic connection through the metal?”
“I’m serious, Tria. The door shocked me.”
She snorts. “You were probably just statically charged. Happens all the time with those digital panels.”
Sure.
Except that’s not what it felt like.
“Whatever.” I tear off another bite of the muffin. “I’m fine.”
Tria watches me for a second longer, but before she can press further, she pauses mid-bite.
“What?” I ask, frowning.
Tria doesn’t answer.
The muffin is still halfway to her mouth, forgotten.
Her lips part slightly as her eyes widen just enough for me to notice.
“Tria.” My fingers tighten around the crumpled wrapper in my lap. “What the fuck is it?”
“I think,” she drawls, “I just found the Greek god Lisa was talking about.”
