by Coralee June
Within seconds, Tomb was there, ripping the other two guards away from me. Then he stood at my side, heaving with rage as he glared at the intruders, as if daring them to take him on.
One of the remaining guards was stupid enough to try him. Tomb’s hand flashed out, and he grabbed the man by the neck, squeezing so hard that all I could hear was the snapping of bone as the man’s head lopped to the side, dead. Tomb dropped his body to the ground as if it were nothing.
The next guard tried to lunge for Tomb, but the man was far too slow. Didn’t they realize that the gargoyle was in full demon mode? He would kill each and every one of them if they gave him the chance.
“Enough,” a voice echoed out. “Release the chemicals. Someone call a janitor to clean up all the webs and blood in here. Oh, and we need a ladder to get Gerald off the ceiling.”
All of us looked up at the same moment to see the guard—Gerald—completely mummified and hanging upside down from where I’d trapped him in my webs.
My spider grinned pretty smugly.
But that victory was short-lived because all at once, the room started to fill with smoke, and guards were yanking on some sort of gas masks.
With new panic, I tried to clamp my mouth shut and hold my breath, but the smoke moved too fast. It was like I could feel it sinking in through my pores.
“Wid,” the gargoyle demon groaned before dropping to his knees.
My own head felt dizzy at the toxins flooding my system, and it was already too hard to see through the smoke.
I fell to the floor a second later, but to my surprise, my body didn’t crash to the hard tile or even against sticky webs. Instead, Tomb had somehow gotten to me in time to catch my fall. He held me cradled to his body, tucking me against him as if he could keep the world from hurting me. And for some reason, even though I knew it wasn’t true, I felt safe.
The last thing I heard before blacking out was the scientist’s mumbled words. “Hmm. Subject three-four-two seems to be very territorial of the black widow hybrid now.”
He was right. Tomb’s steely arms wrapping around my body were evidence enough. But what the scientist failed to notice was that my spider had started to wrap webs around Tomb, as if she were trying to hold him right back.
Territorial, indeed. But I had no idea what it meant.
Chapter 9
“Again,” the bitter voice of my trainer boomed before another knife came careening toward my skull.
I’d been at this for hours. Sweat poured down my face as I wrenched my arm up and shot out a cage of webs to try and stop the sharp weapon from slicing my cheek. I learned the hard way that they wouldn’t wait for me to be ready. The dried blood on my ear was evidence enough of that.
I lifted up my black Spector t-shirt and used the bottom hem to wipe the sweat from my forehead. Besides the S logo on the front, the shirt and sweatpants were a step up from the hospital gown I was used to wearing.
After what happened with Tomb, they decided to start training me. Strength, endurance, offensive, and defensive moves, they made me do it all until I collapsed in my cell every night in a puddle of sweat and exhaustion. My days all blended into each other, starting with breakfast served in my cell, then training for hours on end, a quick cold shower, and a chemical induced sleep.
I hadn’t seen Tomb in a week. I learned to keep time based on my routine, and I was thankful for the small pleasure of knowing how long had passed, but it was a bittersweet gift. Each day that went by, I grew more and more worried that Tomb had been punished for protecting me. Or that they’d been doing tests on him for coming back to life. I wasn’t naive enough to think that they hadn’t monitored us in the tank. I knew better than that.
I’d begged for answers, but I got none. I kept my eyes peeled in the training room, but he never showed up. I searched for his familiar face in the halls, praying that whatever I did to him didn’t hurt him, but I never spotted him.
I worried. I missed him. It was like there was a hollow disconnect in my chest, as if a part of me was missing.
I craved more of Tomb. Not just physically—though the sex was amazing—I missed his easy smile and determination to accept me. I liked that, with him, I wasn’t the villain.
“Why do we have to do this?” I asked Oz—the stingy man responsible for my training. He was dressed in black fatigues, with a mop of brown hair and a scowl.
I wasn’t expecting an answer from him. I’d grown accustomed to Spector’s secretive ways. They refused to tell me where Tomb was or what their plans for me were after what had happened in the tank. Tomb was dead—I’d seen it. And then he woke up with my spider’s mark on his neck, leaving me with unanswered questions and an intense longing for him.
The strangest thing about feeding from Tomb was that he sustained me for much longer. When I’d fed from the humans, it had felt like I was on a crash diet, trying to fill myself with empty meals that didn’t fully nourish me. But Tomb had been a five course meal, leaving me fully satisfied despite the fact that I hadn’t even had any of his blood.
At first, when the hunger didn’t return, I wondered if I’d been cured. I briefly allowed myself to hope that feeding from him had somehow eradicated it for good. But I soon learned that I wasn’t cured. Just full.
But the more Spector made me train, the more my reserves ran dry. I wanted to go as long as I possibly could because I wasn’t ready to kill again, and the thought of having sex with anyone but Tomb made me sick. But at the current rate I was going, I would need more food—and soon.
“The researchers need to see how quick your reflexes are. Apparently, they were up four hundred percent after your last feeding, but based on how horrible you’ve done today, you’ve steadily declined,” Oz answered.
His answer surprised me because I hadn’t expected him to actually respond at all. In my week of training, the only words spoken to me were demands.
“I see.”
Oz just confirmed what I already knew. Spector wanted to push me, monitor me, see how I’d changed in response to feeding off of Tomb. Tomb had resurrected, while I’d become stronger. And Spector was going to use that. My particular skills were so unique that it terrified me to think of exactly what they’d use me for. I didn’t want a lifetime of seducing men and killing them for Spector’s agenda.
My eyes drifted across the space, noting the several others also currently training in the large room. Everyone was doing different things based on what kind of demon hybrid they were, and all of us were kept away from the others.
But despite the fact that we were separated, my eyes drifted over to where a particular shaggy blue-haired hybrid was standing. Crow was leaning against the gray padded wall, commanding his birds with barely a twitch of his fingers.
I knew I shouldn’t stare, but I couldn’t help but watch him. There was just something about him. I was attracted to him, sure, but it was more than that. My spider was definitely interested too, which had me a bit freaked out since that’s how she felt about Tomb, and she’d killed the poor stone dude. Even though he’d come back to life, I still hadn’t forgiven her for that one.
I watched as Crow lifted up his arm to let one of his birds land on him, and it made his bicep bulge. My tongue darted out to lick my lips. I couldn’t help but imagine how his arms would look if his body were poised over mine, or how it would be to sink my teeth into that muscled part of his body. Gods, I bet he’d taste amazing.
I wanted to taste him—him and Tomb both. That dark desire of mine was rising up like water from a hot spring, bubbling beneath the surface and getting hotter and hotter every minute.
My carnal musings were cut short when sharp pain suddenly pierced my left thigh. “Ouch!” I looked down, just as the knife Oz had thrown at me fell to the floor from where it had hit my leg. My angry eyes lifted to him. “That hurt.”
“Pay attention,” my trainer snapped in response.
“I need a break,” I said, still panting from exertion.
“That was your break. Now get your spider ass in gear, or you’re gonna catch more knives in you.”
“Careful,” my spider warned, unfurling from the core of my being. Her voice was quiet, but deadly. Oz blanched before he could catch himself. “You know what I am. So you know that if I wanted to, I could trap you in so many webs that it would give me plenty of time to lure your cock out and consume your life before any of the guards could get to you.”
Oz’s face paled, and his hands automatically went in front of his dick, as if he could keep himself in his pants. My spider grinned, and he grew notably embarrassed at his vulnerability, his face mottling red.
“Water break,” he bit out. “Sixty seconds.”
I patted him on the shoulder. “Isn’t it nice to work together?” I said in false politeness before walking away.
I noticed the frowns on the faces of the guards and the observing scientist—Lowell—in the room as their eyes followed me, but I ignored them as I walked up to the water table and downed a cup. I was probably going to pay for that one, but fuck them.
Once again, my eyes found Crow. Aside for yesterday, he’d been in every training session with me this week. We weren’t allowed to speak to one another while we worked with our individual trainers, but a quiet longing still simmered between us. Sometimes, I’d catch him staring at me as he argued with Spector. He fought them at every turn, and I loved that about him. Based on that display I’d just done, I think Crow’s rebellion was wearing off on me a little.
Crow’s trainer, Freddie, was currently screaming at him to organize the flight pattern of his crows, but it didn’t seem to be going so well. Every time he gave Crow a pattern to replicate, the birds would peck at the man’s head or dive for his feet instead.
Based on the sly smirk on Crow’s face, he was causing the chaos on purpose. I had an inkling that Crow could control them right down to the minutest flap of their wings, but he wanted to fuck with Spector...or simply not reveal just how in control he really was.
“Enough!” Freddie shouted, ducking and dodging the feathered menaces. “Let’s try something else.” He looked around amid the other hybrids training, and when he saw me standing at the water table watching, his trailing eyes stopped. “Hey, Oz! How about a face-off with our trainees?” he called over to my trainer.
Oz stuffed his remaining throwing knives in the holster in his belt and walked over to me. “Sounds good.” He got to my side and tipped his chin up. “Break’s over. Get over there with them. You can fight the hybrid.”
I frowned. “What? No. I can’t fight Crow.”
Oz sneered at me. “It wasn’t a fucking question, spider bitch. Get your ass over there. Now.”
A knife was in his hand again, and my eyes flicked down to it. My interactions with Spector employees had always been rough, but they’d grown increasingly violent. I didn’t need my vampiric sense of smell to know why. They feared me. And this fear caused them to use more and more force to keep me in line. But that line was going to snap if they weren’t careful.
Crow looked steadily back at me from his spot in the training room as I turned to look at him. There were mats on the floors and a mix of mats and mirrors on the walls, and despite the fact that the entire place spilled with light, there weren’t actually any windows.
I didn’t want to move closer. I barely knew the man, but my spider liked him, and obviously, that attraction was dangerous. Tomb’s death and subsequent resurrection were still very fresh in my mind, haunting me at every moment. I refused to let that happen again.
When my feet didn’t immediately move, I felt the sinister press of Oz’s knife at my back, the sharp edge puncturing my skin. “Move, spider bitch.”
Clenching my teeth, I followed his orders and crossed the training area. As I drew closer to Crow, my spider seemed to flex within me. The closer I got, the more my spider went crazy in my chest. She could sense his nearness and enjoyed it. A lot.
Once I was in front of him, I finally looked up at Crow, only to be shocked at the anger in his violet eyes. Within seconds, three of his birds were attacking Oz, diving at his face with their razor-sharp claws and beaks.
“What the fuck!” Oz screamed while swatting at the assailants, dropping the knife in the process.
The moment I was free from its sharp edge, Crow wrapped his arm around my middle and pulled me over to his side. My breath hitched at the contact, and his hand warmed me through the fabric of my shirt.
“Sorry about that. I guess I need more training,” Crow said to Oz with an impish smile. “They’re just impossible to control.”
I had to place a hand over my mouth to stop the snort in my throat.
“Fucking pests,” Oz cursed while wiping his bloodied lip.
“I think more training is definitely in order,” Freddie replied stonily, making dread gather in my gut. I didn’t like the predatory way he was staring at Crow and me.
“You’re going to fight. Your birds can fucking peck at the spider bitch for a change,” he said, sweeping his eyes up and down my body. Freddie had attended a few of my feeding sessions, so his presence here was unnerving.
“And what if I don’t want to?” Crow asked. His birds flocked around him on high alert, staring down at the Spector men with irritation as they cawed and clawed at the air.
At Crow’s question, Freddie smiled meanly. I could feel the malice rolling off of his expression. “Then you’ll be punished. You remember what happened yesterday, don’t you, Crow?” he asked, while cocking his head to the side. “I can always put in a request for the researchers to do more tests, since I know how much you enjoyed it last time.”
Crow’s face turned pale at whatever insinuation was hidden behind the man’s dark words. Crow wasn’t in training yesterday, but I hadn’t thought anything of it. I was simply thankful for a break from the strange allure between us. Now, I wanted to know what they’d done to him.
My spider wanted to make them pay.
A low growl rumbled in my chest, surprising me. The sound must have pulled Crow out of his shock, because he cleared his voice. “Sure thing, asshole,” he said in forced nonchalance before turning to face me.
The apology in his eyes made me worried for what was to come. His birds—although freaky as hell—seemed to like me. Just like that day in the cafeteria, some of them were hopping around at my feet, looking up at me expectantly.
They still freaked me out a bit, to be honest, but mostly because they made me think of the night of the ritual. I couldn’t help remembering how the birds had pecked Spector guards to death, carrying bits of flesh in their sharp beaks. The memory made me shiver.
“Alright, you two are to fight head-to-head until one of you takes the other down or we call for you to stop. We’ll be observing on the sidelines,” Freddie said as they both made their way off the mats.
We had plenty of space away from the other trainees, and our section was separated by a thick wall of glass.
“What did they do to you yesterday?” I asked in a soft voice, not wanting the trainers to hear. I was disproportionately concerned for Crow. Realistically, we all were suffering here. It was every man for himself on Spector’s turf. But I cared for Crow and Tomb. The idea of them suffering was unsettling for my spider and me.
“Oh, so now you want to talk? I thought you were avoiding me like the plague, Little Spider,” Crow teased while crossing his arms over his chest, as if he wasn’t in a hurry to do what the trainers said.
“It’s not like I’ve had much of a chance. These training sessions are intense,” I deflected.
“So intense that all you can do now is throw quick glances at me when I’m not looking and then turn away when I meet your eyes? I thought we hit it off in the cafeteria. What changed?”
My eyes flickered to the glass wall separating us from Oz and Freddie. I wasn’t sure how much they could hear or if everyone knew what I’d done yet.
“It’s complicated. My demon…” my voice trailed off.
I wasn’t sure how to explain myself. I felt too vulnerable in that moment, strung between my odd desire for Crow and the fear of what I’d done to Tomb.
“I know about Tomb,” Crow whispered while glancing at the glass, as if expecting them to intervene at any moment. It was like he could read my mind. Luckily, Oz and Freddie seemed to be in deep discussion with one of the researchers, so we had a little more time. Crow and I pretended to be stretching, like we were preparing for a run rather than getting ready to try and attack each other with our demon powers.
“You’ve seen Tomb? How is he?” I rushed out. “Is he okay?” A million questions and concerns poured out of me.
Crow swung his arms around, more and more birds materializing out of the shadowy vapor that came off of him in black wisps. “That’s a tricky question,” Crow said thoughtfully. “What exactly happened while you were in the tank, Motley? It’s like he’s...invincible now.”
Invincible? “What do you mean?” I asked, my mouth dropped open in shock.
“He can’t die, Motley. No matter how hard they try…”
It was my worst dreams come true. I’d changed Tomb. He wanted to escape this place, but I gave Spector more of a reason to keep him.
A chill skittered over my pulse points. “What do you mean how hard they try?” I asked warily.
Crow looked somber. “They’ve tried to kill him over and over again. They’ve been bringing in other hybrids. They even forced me to do it—or my crows, rather. But no matter what I did, he wouldn’t stay dead.”
Horror crawled down my throat and pinched in my stomach.
“They’re testing how far they can push him. Poison, draining his blood, suffocation. Hell, even decapitation. He dies, but every time, his body renews or rejoins...and he just comes back. It’s fucking awful,” he said, looking noticeably disturbed.
His words made me crumble. The thought of Tomb being subjected to something so horrible because of me was devastating. But even more than sorrow, I felt an anger like nothing I’d ever experienced in my life. I wanted to burn this place to the ground for hurting what was mine.
