Limitless Evolution As a Snake

Cunts, both of them, but I keep that thought tucked away where it belongs.

Channel spots me first. She’s up on a ladder stringing lights along the rafters, wings tucked tight so they don’t knock into anything, and the second she sees me, her whole body lights up like I just walked in holding a puppy; maybe I’m the puppy...

"Omg, Matt, hi!" She half-slides, half-flutters down the ladder, landing way too close, way too fast. "I was literally just about to text you. The caterers confirmed for today, and I got the ice sculptures upgraded to the ones shaped like coins, isn’t that so cute?"

"Cute," I say, flat.

I let my tongue flick out, just barely, tasting the air around her. No fear-sweat, no guilt-stink, nothing that says she’s worried I know what she did to Lyra. Either she’s that good at masking it or she genuinely doesn’t think I’ve put it together yet. Either way, I keep my face doing absolutely nothing.

"Prep’s on track for tonight?" I ask.

"Like, super on track," she says, bouncing a little on her toes. "The VIP room’s redone with the new poker tables, security’s doubled, and I already blacklisted like four guys who tried to sneak weapons in during the walkthrough, isn’t that wild?"

"Wild," I say again, and drift past her toward my father.

Raymond’s watching me with that look he gets, the one where he’s trying to figure out if I’m actually paying attention or just floating around being pretty. I let him wonder, not like I give a shit anymore.

"Grand reopening’s tonight," he says. "I want this thing packed. Councilmen, that basketball player who keeps losing his shirt to paparazzi, whoever’s running that streaming platform now."

Hansen finally peels himself off the wall. "So you’re actually gonna help, huh."

"Different type of help, sure."

Harden snorts. "Figured. You couldn’t even keep the place running without your girlfriend passing out."

There it is. The words land, and I let them. On the outside, I’m a statue carved from smoke and apathy. Inside, the coldness isn’t rage. It’s the simple, quiet math of the situation: I could end both of them before Raymond finished his next breath, and it wouldn’t even be hard.

Channel’s ears- well, not ears, but the little feather-tufts on the sides of her head twitch, just slightly. She doesn’t correct him, doesn’t say a word.

"Yeah," I say, letting my head loll to the side in a lazy arc, "turns out running a casino is a lot of work. Who knew."

Raymond raises an eyebrow. "You conceding?"

"I’m saying I’d rather sleep in until noon, smoke something illegal, gamble away money I don’t need, and spend the rest of my day with my girls than deal with spreadsheets and seating charts," I say, my voice a low rumble, and I mean every word of it.

"You two want it so bad, take it. Run the floor, handle the money, deal with the customers’ egos bumping into each other. "I’ll show up for the opening, dip my head at a few people, disappear before the champagne runs out."

Hansen and Harden actually look pleased with themselves, which is almost funny. They think they won something; fuck it, let them.

Raymond studies me for a long moment, like he’s trying to find the trick in it, then just nods. "Fine. Tonight, don’t embarrass the family."

"Wouldn’t dream of it," I hiss, already turning to leave, already thinking about Lyra’s mouth on my pillow and how many hours I’ve got left before I need to be anywhere near this place again.

Channel flutters after me a few steps. "Matt, wait, are we still?"

"Prep’s good," I say, not stopping. "Keep it that way."

I don’t look back to see her face. I don’t need to. I’ve already got what I came for.

The warehouse walls are thin enough that I can hear my uncles laughing about their failed hit. Fucking idiots. They think they’re playing Raymond’s dumb kid, but they’re just background characters in my show now. I hover in the dark, a ghost outside their window, fins of smoke curling from my scales. They have no idea I’m listening, and that’s the best part.

"She poisoned her, and he somehow took it off his girl, and didn’t even notice," Hansen says, and he’s laughing so hard it turns into a wheeze. "Not one symptom, nothing."

"Yeah well he’s built different now, isn’t he," Harden says, and I can hear him slap something, probably a table, probably Hansen’s shoulder, hard to tell from out here. "Kid’s basically a walking hazmat situation, fucker probably ate the poison and asked for seconds."

[System: Deadset, mate, they’re not wrong. Reckon you could snort a vial of that stuff and just get a bit sneezy.]

Then Channel’s voice cuts through, and it’s doing that whiny pitch she saves for when she wants something.

"Okay but like, can we not laugh about this? I worked super hard on that formula, it was literally undetectable, it’s not my fault Lyra didn’t die, and I have no idea how he transferred it off her onto him and then lived through that"

[System: There it is, the delusion train’s rolling in, mate, grab a seat.]

I can practically hear her stomp her foot. Then there’s a shuffle, fabric moving, and I don’t need eyes to guess what’s happening because her voice drops into that breathy register she uses on camera.

"Hansen," she says, all sugar. "Can I ask you something?"

"What."

"When we win. When you guys take over, can I be one of his girls? Or just, like, his girl? I don’t even care about the harem thing, I just..."

Harden actually barks out a laugh so loud I hear it rattle something metal. "Wait, what?"

"You want to be his girl," Hansen repeats slowly, like he’s checking he heard right. "The guy we’re literally trying to kill."

"He’s not gonna die though," Channel says, dead serious, like she’s talking about the weather. "Have you seen him? Like actually seen him? He’s got the whole smoke thing, the eyes, the vibe. It’s so scary, and it’s so hot. I don’t know what happened to me. I used to be normal, and now I just keep thinking about him, and I get all..."