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“Far as we can figure,” Doc continued, “the mineral composition of these caves is unique, and we think it interacted with the red mist to form something new. Something that had never been seen before or tested. The mist inside the caves reacted differently than the mist outside of them. Instead of killing all biological life within the caves, it adapted it, merging species that sheltered in the cave during the blast.”
“Merged?” Friday interrupted as she gently smoothed a fingertip under his eye again, staring at it in fascination.
“Yeah,” their medic said. “Snakes, bears, mountain lions, pretty much everything you’d find in this region. Everything that’d taken to the caves during the conflict. When we got warning the bomb was being dropped, we were near the caves and ran into them, too. Next thing we know, it’s a hundred years later and we wake up alone. No animals. At least, none we could find.”
“What we think”—Striker rubbed his hand up and down her arm, reassuring her, or maybe himself—“is that our DNA merged with the animal closest to us. We kind of absorbed the DNA of the other creature.”
She inclined her head, considering. “The stronger DNA won out.”
“Yeah.”
“You merged with a snake.” She traced the tattoo on his neck with her fingertips. “A diamondback. Do you have a poisonous bite? Can you detect heat signatures? Do you have to eat live rats now?”
He couldn’t help but grin, and the mood in the room eased. “No rats, bébé. But I can see in the dark. My instincts are acute, and I can pick up heat signatures. There’s no poisonous bite, though.”
“Did you get the tattoo in honor of the animal you merged with?” She skimmed her fingers over the head of the snake as it curved around his neck.
He hesitated with his answer. Once the rest of the story was out, there was no taking it back. She would never look at him as a normal man again. Would she see him as a freak? As repugnant? Would she still want him to touch her? He looked into her intense, intelligent gaze and took a deep breath. All or nothing. She had to know everything. They needed her. He needed her.
“I woke up with the tattoo, bébé.”
Her touch trembled against his skin. “It isn’t a tattoo, is it?”
“No.”
“Is it an impression of the animal you merged with? The remnants of the snake melted into you, like a brand?”
“No. It’s something else.”
A little pucker appeared between her brows as her quick mind raced over the information he gave her. She was getting ready to ask for an explanation, but there was no explaining this. This, he had to show her. Lifting her, he sat her on the chair beside him, and then stood. He reached for the bottom of his vest top.
“Be certain,” Mace warned.
Striker eyed the woman in front of him, considering what he was about to do. Her pale cheeks were flushed pink. Her eyes darted around as though following every thought zipping through her mind. Her hands shook, her breathing was rapid, but she didn’t run. There was no hysterics. No revulsion. No fear. Only shock, wonder, and curiosity. She was brave and vulnerable at the same time. She was beautiful.
“I’m sure.” He yanked off his shirt.
With his eyes still on Friday, he held his arms away from his body and called to the snake. He felt a tingling in his spine. Dull throbbing pain raced through his muscles, making them clench tight. Friday’s eyes widened, and she tugged her bottom lip between her teeth. She clenched her hands together tightly in her lap. Striker felt a wrenching sensation deep inside him, then the sharp pain of separation made him break out in a sweat. There was a snap, and his other half landed on the table beside him.
Friday gasped. She shot to her feet and backed away from the table. Striker lowered his arms. His eyes were on the woman instead of on the live diamondback curled in the middle of the dining room table.
She stared at him, then at the diamondback, then him again.
“Turn around.” Her demand was little more than a shaky whisper.
He did as she commanded and heard her sharp inhale when she saw his unblemished skin. There was no sign that there had ever been an image of a snake on his body.
“How?”
He felt her touch, ice cold and trembling as she traced over his shoulder where the snake had been. The diamondback on the table hissed at them. His other half wanted Friday’s attention, too. He felt her jerk away from him, which made the diamondback hiss louder. He turned to find Friday staring at the reptile.
“Is it real?” She reached a hand out toward the snake.
“Don’t!” Sandi took a step forward. “It will bite.”
Striker shook his head. His connection with the reptile was buzzing. The diamondback wouldn’t attack Friday. He had never been more certain of anything in his life.
“It won’t harm you. It wants to be petted.” A dull throb of agreement jangled through his mind.
