The Complete Kit Davenport Series

by Tate James

“He’s trying to tell me his name is Rumplesnakeskin.”

“No, because he laughed and is now telling me it’s Monty.” He paused, and I failed to see what was funny about Monty. “Monty the Python. Which it’s clearly not because you’re not a python, you dick!”

“Ahhh hilarious, you turd. It’s not William Snakespeare either, thank you. If you don’t give me a serious answer, I’m just going to name you myself,”

Listen, you slimy psycho, if you don’t give me a serious name, then I am going to call you... Cuddles. Or Fluffy.”

“Here’s the deal, scales. I’m not calling you Sssssssssam, and I can promise you that neither will the dragons. God forbid you try getting Alpha to call you Sssssssssam, either. So it’s Sam or Cuddles. Your choice.” He paused again. “Excellent choice. Now are you coming out from under there to meet our bonded Ban Dia, or are you going to be a little bitch? Sorry, I meant mouse.” At this insult, Sam the snake darted forward and struck Caleb in the hand with his fangs before curling his way up Caleb’s arm to rest across his shoulders and eye me up suspiciously. “What the fuck?” Caleb roared, holding his bleeding hand up to his mouth and then rolling his eyes for what seemed like the twentieth time since starting this chat with Sam. “Oh, there was no venom in that bite? Oh well, that makes it all okay then, you psycho.” His voice was heavy with sarcasm as he sucked the wound, and his familiar flicked out his tongue in what seemed to be a laugh.

“I think Sam would look dashing in a harness and leash like a guide dog.”

“Sam says he will bite you in the ballsack while you sleep. Except, you know, with more swearing.”