Her lips curled into a smile. “Oh thank you for the wise advice.” She clasped her hands in joy. “I can’t wait to make my grand premiere! Theo, I’m so glad you took the time to visit me. You have raised this poor girl’s spirits greatly. You are a true friend.”
I shuffled awkwardly. “Heh, I also came to see if you saw Amir’s cat. Daredevil.” The sooner I located the cat, the sooner I could ask for her help with my latest—and very time-sensitive—job.
If her face had been happy a moment earlier, now it was positively glowing when I mentioned Amir’s cat. Her smile grew even deeper and her tongue flicked sensually around her lips.
Oh shit. She ate Daredevil …
“What’s wrong?” Arachne asked.
I swallowed. “Where is he?”
Her smile widened again as she indicated the glowing line of light under a closed door at the back of the basement. “Why, in my parlor. Step inside?”
Her parlor … where she kept her food …
Crap. She ate him. Arachne friggin’ ate Daredevil …
I was trying to figure out the gentlest way to break the news to Amir when Arachne said, “Coming?”
“Nooo!” Simon screamed.
I followed Arachne to her parlor.
I stepped into Arachne’s back room. It was small and there was a desk. A wall of computer monitors gave off the only light. On one of the walls was a Red Bull endorsement poster of her holding up a can and smiling for the camera in a rather revealing bikini with a beachfront background. She had a greenscreen somewhere down here, I knew. Man, she loved Red Bull; I thought it was gross. It helped her focus when she was on task though.
A sickening crunching of bones came from beside her desk and I thought, Uh oh, looks like Arachne found a friend … who also likes cats …
My mind was already conjuring up the worst possible images of what I might see but I had to let Amir know what happened. I turned to Simon shivering in his shoulder pad. “Close your eyes.”
“What?” Arachne said.
“Nothing,” I said as I stepped around the desk and shined my cell phone light downward.
And there, sitting on his haunches and crunching on the hind quarters of a mouse lodged headfirst down his gullet was … Daredevil. And resting beside the cat lined up against the wall on their backs like fallen soldiers were three more mice, as equally dead, their naked paws curled upward toward the ceiling.
“Gross,” Simon moaned.
“Cool!” Garfunkel said.
I heard Simon barfing in his shoulder pad. Damnit, Simon, I just washed your pad …
I turned back to face Arachne who still beamed at me like a gorgeous, petite college girl with her perfect clothes and perfect hair. That hair … “Daredevil and I are besties. He gets rid of the mice down here.” She gave a glowy cheerleader grin that was cotton-candy-sickeningly sweet. “Can’t have them chewing any cords,” she said with a wave of her hands.
When she saw my surprised face, she laughed with her hands on her waist.
“I’m an idiot,” I said. “For a minute there, I thought you might have eaten him.”
“Why Theo, I told you, I’ve gone vegetarian.”
“Don’t you catch mice in your webs though?”
She shook her head. “I don’t do much spinning or weaving anymore.” She intertwined her fingers nervously as her black eyes flicked to the ceiling. “Not after that bee-yotch Athena turned me into … this.” She gestured dramatically at her lower body and then smoothed out the front of her blouse.
I swallowed again. “I can see how you might still be sore about that …”
“Sore?” Her eyes were glaring, boring right through me. Beyond me. Then her facial features relaxed. “Nah. I’m totes so over that. It was sooo long ago. I mean LOL. What kind of psycho crazy would hold a grudge for over two thousand years? Heheh. Not this gurrl.”
“Of course not,” I said. “But it would be OK if you were still a little mad.”
“Theo, I’m not mad,” she said, her demon eyes, smile and pulsating spider body not helping her case. No, not creepy at all.
Daredevil looked passively up at me and I bent down to pet his head. He waited until my hand was inches from him before swiping, clawing my exposed wrist.
“Ow!”
Daredevil sprinted past me into the darkness through the doorway and toward the steps beyond. I raised my wrist to inspect the damage and Arachne gasped, clutching my arm in her pretty hands.
“Where did you get this mark?”
She was pointing at my tracking sigil compliments of the Brotherhood of Zeus.
“Oh nothing.” I pulled my sleeve back down. “Does it mean something to you?”
“It is very bad. A sigil Zeus created when the monster Typhon attacked Mount Olympus. Sent the gods fleeing to Egypt. He was a real BAMF. Kinda dreamy too. A real hunk, not a monster at all like most sources say he was.”
I laughed. “Does someone have a crush?”
Arachne gave a coy hand wave that came across as more seductive than she probably realized. I shook my head.
“Funny you should mention Typhon,” I said. “I’ve got a job for you, and it might require hacking into Typhon’s database …”
Arachne’s fingers tap-danced in the air in front of her. “Oooh a challenge.”
“I hear he’s still a … BAMF, so if you’d rather take a pass at this one …”
She waved a hand. “It would be an honor. Besides, bestie, you are a true friend. And are coming with me clubbing in two nights at my big reveal. Right?”
Crap. Let’s just say that dancing wasn’t really my thing …
I nodded slowly. “Sure, Arachne. Sure.”
“My Friend’s a Webmaster (I’ll Show Myself Out Now)”
Arachne may have quit weaving thread or silk or whatever spiders do, but she knew her way around the world wide web, which I guess was inevitable. Spider prodigy girl, meet giant digital web that almost everyone in the developed world is connected to—some might say stuck in—thanks to social media. Everyone except for me. (12-friend-Facebook-girl here, remember …?)
“Is that it?” I asked. “The dark web?”
Arachne nodded, her eyes flicking across the glowing screen.
“I thought it would look different. More … sinister.”
Arachne shrugged as she unwrapped a Tootsie Pop and inserted it in her mouth, before sliding her fingers over the keys.
“I’m in.”
I scratched my head. “In? Uh where?”
Arachne looked at me as if it was elementary. “Typhon’s database, sis. And look, here’s that diversion your employer was talking about.”
I glanced at a computer screen displaying a digital flyer that read: A fight you’ll never forget! Gore: Check! Violence: Check! And then in small print: *Not suitable for children under ages 5.
I wasn’t reading the words though. My eyes were focused on the pictures below them. Two massive creatures, one on each side of a rock-floored arena: a moon-colored crab the size of a UFO with the caption “INDOMITABLE CANCER, THE CRAB!” below it. And next to the crab was a scorpion the size of a bus. “VENGEFUL SCORPIO, THE SCORPION!”
GoneGodDamn! It reminded me of a classic Godzilla battle matchup. Gotta love the original 1954 movie, oh and that remake with Bryan Cranston … At least, Garfunkel and I did. Which concerned me a bit when Garfunkel didn’t make some rude comment like, “Now we talkin!” or “Hell’s yeah!” He didn’t even whistle amusedly. Was there something wrong with my familiars? They always told me when there was, so I didn’t think anything further of it.
“How do I get in?” I asked.
Arachne worked the Tootsie Pop in her mouth against the inside of her cheek in a gesture that came across as overtly sexual. She tapped some keys. “Oooh looks like there are some pretty specific requirements. Whoa this fine print is, like, waaay too long to read.” She scanned about halfway down the screen. “… here we go. Looks like all participants must b
e dressed in semi-formal attire … front gate, located in the meatpacking district, promptly closes at 7:00 p.m. … must present unique ticket which is synced to your biological ID …”
“Biological ID?” I asked.
Arachne paused. “Yes. It’s a physical representation of your likeness printed on a flat, often glossy paper.”
“So, Photo ID?”
Arachne gave me a look like I was the one confused. I suppose I was. “Yaaa, Theo … Photo ID that represents your biological nature.” She clicked some more keys. “So you and Orion will have to look like the people you are impersonating. Not a problem. I’ll go through the list of attendees and find a couple that resemble you two and whip up a digital copy you can present on your phones. It is the twenty-first century after all.”
“You can see all that?” It was almost too much to believe that every attendee would willingly supply their photo when they purchased their ticket over the dark web.
Photos of the primly-dressed elite flashed across the screen. There were a lot of pictures, which equated to a lot of attendees, which in turn meant it’d be easier to sneak in and out and to blend in. And I’d get to pretend to be an elite, always amusing for me since I was so blue-collar, or rather, no-collar, I guess.
Arachne bit down on the sucker’s hard exterior with a crunch and then extracted the Tootsie Roll center from the candy’s stick. I swallowed hard. Stupid owl. Guess it really does take only three licks to the center … She tossed the stick in a trash can beneath her desk.
“OK,” I said. “So you’ve got the ticket front taken care of. Any chance you can pull blueprints of the place, too? Don’t want to get lost in an underground tunnel.”
Arachne nibbled at her fingernail, not enough to chip her polish but enough to make me squirm. She really needed to understand what she did to others when making what she believed to be innocuous gestures.
“Easy. Want me to send them to your phone?”
“Yeah,” I said, swallowing and trying to avert my gaze from her perfect mouth working up and down on the chewie Tootsie Pop.
She clicked a key and my phone beeped.
“That was … fast.” I drew my eyes off her smooth, tan cheeks. “Can you print off a hard copy too? For Orion. He’s old-school. Way old-school.”
Arachne made a couple quick clicks and a printer whirred to life from somewhere in the darkness. “Uh oh,” she said as I grabbed the warm sheets off the printer.
“Uh oh, what?”
She scrunched up her eyes. “The ticket is going to be a little trickier than I’d thought. I was hoping for a digital copy I could spoof but looks like they’re hard copy. No bueno. That means you’re going to have to lay your hands on a physical copy.”
I cocked a brow. “As in steal?”
Arachne laughed coyly. “I should be able to locate two suitable tickets for you and Orion but it’s going to take some time. And the event is tomorrow night …” Her eyes traveled to the ceiling as she mentally calculated.
I fidgeted, tapping upon my thigh. “So … how long you think it might take?”
“Tonight. Or tomorrow.” She must have caught my agitation because she added, “Tonight. Definitely tonight.”
“And we have to have a ticket?” I asked. “There’s no way to sneak in without one?”
“Uh no. There’s only one way down there, and Typhon’s security makes redundant security seem inadequate. We’re talking security galore—cameras, which I can take care of, but there’s all kinds of other sensors in place too. Probably magic traps. And his bouncers are, like, no joke. Even the police stay off Typhon’s turf. They don’t want to cause a mini-war in the city.”
Wow. Typhon was more dangerous than I’d given him credit for. Maybe 36 hours wasn’t enough lead time to prepare for this job …
I turned back to Arachne as I gripped the blueprints in one hand and patted her slender shoulder with the other. “Thanks, Arachne. I know you’ll pull through with the tickets.”
“TY, bestie! And thank you for supporting me at my big debut!”
“Two nights from now?” I asked, hoping my reluctance didn’t show.
She nodded, swaying subtly on her spiderlike lower body mostly half hidden in the dark. “I’ll call you when I have a lock on two tickets that fit the bill. XOXO.”
I groaned. I needed to break her out of her emoji-style talk. Then again … it was part of her charm. “CYA,” I chuckled, and headed back toward the stairs.
Daredevil the cat was sitting on Amir’s lap behind the counter when I climbed the last step up to the bodega.
“You are an angel, my dear,” Amir said, stroking Daredevil’s furry neck and shoulders. “You shall eat at no cost at my establishment whenever you wish.”
“That’s not necessary,” I said. “Besides, your tenant isn’t the monster you think she is.”
Amir wrinkled his eyes. “Monster? I never said that. It’s just … she’s different, and …” Amir pressed a hand to his aged forehead. “Ayy! You are right. I am afraid of her because she looks so different. I am judging her simply for how she looks. Not good. I have much to learn in this life. Again, Theo, you must truly be an angel.”
I shook my head, starting to blush. Damnit …
Amir looked almost painfully at me. “I wish to reach out to her with a gesture of goodwill, but I just don’t know how to go about it. A simple hello does not seem adequate after years of her occupying my basement …”
I thought about it for a moment as the wonderful smells from the countertop drifted to me. Which was saying something—I was still stuffed from lunch. Then the idea hit me. Arachne loved sweets. And ever since the gods left, she had turned veggie. How could I forget? The bug conversation. Apparently she still missed eating insects, especially bees …
I pointed at the freshly baked goods. “Hey, Amir, your world-famous baklava is covered in honey, right? I bet Arachne would love that. Bees, honey—she’ll love it. Also, maybe include a note about how no bee was harmed in producing this and you’ll have a friend for life.”
Amir gasped. “Beautiful and smart. Oh Theo, what would I do without you? I shall do as you suggest.” He smiled at Orion, who winked back in an awkward, overly obvious fashion. Did the ancient Greeks really wink like that? Nah, Orion was probably still getting used to being a human again after being made of stars.
For a moment I wondered if Orion and Amir had been exchanging secrets about me the entire time I was down there.
Usually I don’t care what other people think about me, but—
My cell phone started ringing and I pulled it out while handing over the blueprints to Orion. It was a number I didn’t recognize.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Miss Apollonia?”
“Larry,” I said, and I thought I caught a glimpse of jealousy in Orion’s eyes. I cupped a hand over the receiver. “I’m glad you called. Ready to talk business?”
“Yeah … about that,” Larry said. “You’re not recording this, are you?”
“Recording? No.” By the way, I most definitely was.
“Good,” he said. “You have time to talk right now?”
Sweat was pouring out of my armpits. I hadn’t realized this conversation would be so nerve-wracking. But there was a lot riding on it. I couldn’t afford to lose my investment. When we first started working together, Orion had had me read a book on negotiation to brush up on my tactics as he was some supposed expert due to his watching over humankind for several centuries yada, yada. Right now, I felt like I’d forgotten all of it but I didn’t want to involve Orion in this.
I took a deep breath. “Sure, just give me a moment, please.” I muted myself on my phone and leaned over to Orion, speaking in a hushed tone. “This might be a while. You want to start going over the blueprints in your hotel room? Oh, and Arachne says the event tomorrow is fine dress. Think you can take care of our outfits, as usual? Seeing as how much I hate shopping …”
Orion rolled up the blueprint
s and stuffed them inside his jacket. Then he drew out his wallet and held up a credit card triumphantly like it was baby Simba or something.
Orion is so weird.
I gave him a thumbs up and brought the phone back to my ear, moving toward a corner of the store where I’d less likely be overheard. “OK, Larry. I’m all yours. I mean, ears. My ears are yours. The rest of me is mine.”
Words …
I couldn’t afford to mess this up.
“You,” Larry began, “ahem, asked if there was something you might be able to do for me. There is.”
He hesitated and I prompted him for more, “Go on.”
“I uh got this personal problem …”
“If this is about some male impotency thing,” I said.
“No. It’s not that. Well, kinda. It’s my girlfriend, Midge. Actually, ex-girlfriend.”
“What about her, Larry? You still love her? You want to get back at her? What?”
He hesitated.
“Spit it out, man.”
“Look, I was really debating calling you—this is gonna sound petty, but here goes. When we split up, some of my stuff got left at her place. She won’t answer my calls and I don’t have the courage to just go to her place and ask for it back.”
“O-K? You want me to get your stuff?”
“Yes—er—just one thing really.”
“Favorite t-shirt? Ball cap. Collector figurine?”
“My cat. Luna.”
“Your cat?”
“Yes.”
“You want me to steal your ex’s cat?”
“Not … steal. Per say. Gosh, that sounds like such a dirty word. Rescue.”
I picked at my nails as if uninterested. “I’m not exactly in that business.”
“You said if there was anything you could do—”
“I’m not stealing a cat.”
Larry firmed up his voice and played his trump card. “Then I guess you’re going to lose that expensive investment of yours.”
“Damn you, Larry,” I said, recalling some of Orion’s negotiation book and using my “positive playful voice.” I needed to build empathy with him. An important rule of negotiating with a hostage was to get the kidnapper to see the hostage (me!) as a person. I switched to my “late-night FM DJ voice” and used an upward inflection in my voice to firmly make a point. “I just need another couple of days. How am I going to pay you when I don’t have the money?”
Axes and Angels: A Snarky Urban Fantasy Novel (Better Demons Series Book 1) Page 7
