Spider-Touched g-2

by Jory Strong

  “Yet. They involved you in their schemes from the first, by sending for you. You could have lost your life, either at the hands of the guardsmen or the Church.”

  “Because I chose not to leave Eston in the truck for guardsmen to find,” Rebekka said, and she wasn’t sorry for that choice. Just as she wasn’t sorry they’d ambushed the trapper or waited in the woods to offer shelter to Araña. “If not for the witches, Anton would have dragon lizards and Cyrin would be dead.”

  Levi snarled at what Anton had planned for his brother. She squeezed his arm, hardly daring to mention the dream they shared of freeing the animals and Weres held at the maze, but she didn’t know Aisling or her mate, and Annalise hadn’t said it was safe to speak freely once they arrived at the shamaness’s house.

  “I think the witches intend for Araña to gain control over the demon. If—”

  “She and Tir intend to break into Anton’s house. Araña made a bargain with Draven Tassone. I don’t know the details of it.”

  Confusion buffeted Rebekka. The vampire’s involvement was unexpected. “Tir is the prisoner?”

  “Yes.”

  “When will they attempt it?”

  Levi stopped her once again, this time putting his mouth close to her ear. “She has three days to complete whatever task she agreed to.”

  Rebekka’s palms grew suddenly damp. “Then they have until tomorrow at noon unless they want to face the magistrate’s men as well as the demon.”

  “I warned her about the magistrate’s arrival when I saw her earlier. She and Tir witnessed the assault on your house and she came to the brothel to warn me. Her boat is hidden in the outer harbor. I’m meeting them there shortly after sunrise tomorrow.”

  Rebekka’s breath caught. Her thoughts went to the patriarch, trapped in his wheelchair, his limbs slowly becoming useless. She could think of only one thing Araña and Tir had that could be used for bargaining with the vice lord who controlled the outer harbor. “Rimmon’s daughter?”

  “I told them she suffered from the wasting disease. If Tir healed her as you think he might be capable of doing, there’s no rumor of it yet.”

  Levi turned away from her and began walking, hands shoved into his pockets and shoulders hunched in an uncharacteristic way. “I contemplated betraying them. I asked her to use her gift to find you. When she claimed not to have control over it, I told her about Annalise sending for you. I told her to seek out the witches and learn how to use her gift. When nearly a day passed…”

  Levi shrugged. “I was on my way to the outer harbor to see if Tir had succeeded in stealing the boat and making a deal with Rimmon. Then I was to meet with the werewolf we freed. He approached me at the brothel—

  “Now I know he lied. He said he was there when Tir was turned over to the trapper. He claimed Tir was a demon-possessed human being sent to the maze.”

  Rebekka slid her arm through Levi’s. “You wouldn’t have betrayed them.”

  “I’ve thought about little else but the possibility of you being held at the maze and Gulzar—” A shudder went through him. “If Araña had arrived a few minutes later, I would have missed both her and the messenger bringing news you were safe. I might have—”

  “No. You wouldn’t have betrayed them.”

  He shrugged again and remained silent. Ahead of them, the stranger leaned indolently against a fence in front of a white adobe house with a profusion of flowers underneath the windows and on the porch.

  Rebekka touched her pocket and felt the folded pages she’d ripped from the journal on the patriarch’s desk. Choices. Paths taken and not taken.

  Sitting across from Annalise, she’d accepted that maybe she couldn’t know the cost ahead of time. Maybe she could only go with her heart and do what she considered right at each juncture. “There might never be a better chance to free those held in the maze.”

  Levi didn’t respond until they’d halved the distance to the shamaness’s house. “I had the same thought as I passed from the red zone into this area. Vampires aren’t known for wasting their resources. Draven Tassone least of all. He would have provided her with information to increase the odds of success. I’ll listen to her plan, and if it’s a sound one, I’ll go with them. You can wait—”

  “No. Both the Weres and the animals will need me or they’ll end up dying in the traps outside the maze or slaughtered in it when the magistrate’s guards and the police arrive and find them loose.”

  The stranger opened the gate and proceeded to the shamaness’s front door. As they neared the house, Rebekka could hear music coming through the open window, an exotic mix of instruments making her think of shimmering desert and primal heat.

  Their escort knocked and the door was opened by a man. Rebekka’s steps faltered. He had the same otherworldly beauty as their escort, the same hint of ready death.

  “Was that the door I—” The shamaness’s question was cut off by her laugh, and it remained thick in her voice when she said, “Didn’t you warn your father against making you his pawn again, Zurael?”

  The teasing question earned her a growled “Aisling” and had their escort’s teeth flashing white in the rapidly approaching darkness. He extended a hand toward Rebekka and Levi. “I’ve brought guests in need of safekeeping.”

  The shamaness nudged her mate aside and stood in the doorway. He curled a protective arm around her waist, but she smiled and Rebekka felt welcome. “Come in,” Aisling said. “We’re just about to sit down for dinner.”

  ARAÑA brushed her fingertips over a taut masculine nipple and smiled at the sound of Tir’s heartbeat speeding up beneath her ear. Just a little bit longer, she told herself, savoring the closeness as his words of love continued to sing through her like a musical refrain.

  She closed her eyes in contentment and sighed as his fingers combed through her hair, gliding sensuously over her vertebrae, his palms caressing her buttocks at the end of each downstroke. She wanted this forever, but even as she thought it, the knowledge that he’d once killed and enslaved the Djinn pushed her peace aside.

  Against her back, Tir’s hand stopped moving. “What are you thinking about?”

  She longed to tell him, to ask for reassurance. But how could he give it when he had no memory of his past? When he’d already refused to give up his claim of vengeance?

  Araña snuggled closer and wedged her leg more firmly between his. None of it would matter if she didn’t succeed in the task she’d agreed to. “I spoke to Levi after I left L’Antiquaire.”

  “At the brothel?” There was no mistaking the purr of menace in Tir’s voice.

  “Yes.”

  His fingertips found one of the scars on her back and traced it, sending a pulse of erotic fear through her. “I should punish you. You knew I expected you to go directly to the Constellation.”

  “I told him what we’d seen and heard at Rebekka’s house,” she said, neither making excuses nor refuting Tir’s charge, but unable to hide her reaction to his threat of punishment, not with her clit and bare mound pressed to his thigh. “I also told him I’d made a deal with Draven Tassone. Levi will be here shortly after sunrise.”

  “He intends to go with us?”

  “I don’t know. At the least he’ll share what information he has. He once hunted in the maze.”

  She lifted away from Tir so she could see his face. “Normally there are only three people in the maze compound, beside the—beside Abijah.” When there was no flicker of recognition, she continued, “By noon tomorrow, the traveling magistrate will arrive in Oakland. Some of his prisoners will be taken to the maze.”

  “Meaning additional guards,” Tir said, also remembering Thane’s comment about apartments being available for those required to be on the premises at certain times. “And meaning we need to act before noon tomorrow.”

  “Yes. Thane was right in his assessment of the best way to get into Anton’s house. There are cameras throughout the maze, and cages of wild animals forming a gauntlet at the back
of it. The day I was taken there, the guardsmen stopped at the gate and were buzzed in from the front office by Farold after they identified themselves. There are probably others who receive the same treatment, but there’s also Farold himself and a helper named Gulzar.” Araña smoothed her palm over Tir’s chest. “I’m going to use my gift to see if I can find a way to get into the office.”

  Tir frowned, but didn’t protest.

  She forced herself to roll away from him and sit up.

  He sat as well, pulling her onto his lap, his chest to her back and his arms secured around her. A kiss followed, in the hollow of her neck where the spider stretched across her skin.

  Araña glanced at the lantern Tir had lit earlier when they’d left the bed long enough to drop anchor a short distance away from the pier.

  Remembered pain and fear pressed in on her as she thought about the night she’d climbed aboard the Constellation and seen Erik’s death. She swallowed down the emotion and found a smile when Tir said, “I won’t allow this if it’s going to hurt you.”

  “I’ll be fine,” she said, focusing on the flame. Willingly accepting its call.

  Almost immediately soul strands settled, forming a carpet spreading before her, as if she could walk its path into eternity. Around her colors and threads shifted subtly. She sensed then what she knew had to be true, though she’d never noticed it before. She wasn’t alone here.

  She had no form, only the spider-shaped illusion she now understood was the manifestation of her soul. The others weren’t visible either, and yet the echo of the changes they made to the pattern vibrated through her.

  Panic threatened to seize her. For an instant she didn’t know where to begin, how to find the threads she was looking for. Then, like a beacon, her own life blazed near her feet, only to disappear. Where it slid beneath the pattern, it was entwined in the blue black of Tir’s.

  She turned away from the present and the future and looked to the past, followed the bright flare of her own thread until she found the place where it intersected with Levi’s at the brothel. There was no subtle movement around her, and in texture the carpet appeared more solid, more vivid, as if now that it couldn’t be changed, the full truth and all its nuances could be revealed.

  Levi’s was the only thread she was certain would lead to Gulzar, and maybe Farold—though she held little hope his soul could be touched here given what Malahel had said about Anton.

  Araña traveled further into the past, being careful not to violate Levi’s privacy until it became necessary—when it ran concurrent with a pus-colored strand she had only to concentrate on to hear the name she’d been hoping to find. Gulzar.

  He had Levi strapped naked to a table slick with blood, instruments of torture and rape scattered haphazardly around him.

  Charmed silver wrapped around various segments of Levi’s limbs, creating a monster that was neither lion nor man.

  Nausea and hate swelled inside Araña. She reached for Gulzar’s thread, meaning to grasp it so she wouldn’t lose it, but she hesitated at the last moment. She had no desire to see the entirety of his sins, to walk the path of his evil.

  She concentrated instead on retracing her imagined steps along the patterned carpet, from past into present. And her desire to kill him grew when she found him in a house in the red zone, a young girl strapped to his table, terror coming off her in waves.

  He circled her, as if she were a slab of clay and he was an artist contemplating what he would make of it.

  In the immediate past Araña could see the girl’s capture.

  The location of the house.

  The car in the garage with its remote control to open the gated entrance to the maze complex.

  The collection of keys that would unlock the office door and the cells housing the animals and Weres, as well as any human prisoners.

  Impotent rage held Araña in its grip for an instant as she realized that in her hunger for revenge and her desire to gain it with her knives, she’d wasted an opportunity to learn when she stood in front of the tapestry and asked how Levi’s fate could be changed.

  “To predict how a single change will affect an entire pattern takes centuries of study by those dedicated to it,” Malahel had said upon their initial meeting.

  Araña didn’t have that kind of time. Neither did the girl.

  Pride was a weak barrier against what it would cost both the girl and herself if she failed now. With a thought, Araña cast a name into the vision place. Malahel.

  A robed figure shimmered into existence though her form was translucent. “I’m impressed, daughter. I hadn’t thought it possible you would retain so much of what you once were.”

  “How do I stop him? How do I kill him from here?”

  The Spider Djinn’s attention shifted to the pus-colored thread. Araña could feel a phantom presence enter the same mental place her soul traveled. But it was the translucent image of the woman who’d once been her mother that said, “Look for those connected to the girl’s life.”

  Araña looked, and saw immediately that the girl had brothers and a father who were searching for her. Bear shapeshifters who’d left the safety of the forest and joined the other predators in the red zone, though they hunted only a single prey, the human whose scent they’d found where a trap had been set in the woods.

  “Touch one of their threads to Gulzar’s?” Araña asked, a pit of horror forming at the thought she might relegate one of them to the same fate as the girl’s by doing it.

  “It’s his scent they need,” Malahel said. “The girl’s won’t be easily found outside his house.”

  Araña found the strand in the closest proximity to Gulzar’s and mentally grasped it.

  The patterned carpet dissolved into a thousand separate threads.

  Panic welled up, but she forced it away, concentrating instead on finding the sickly thread of Gulzar’s strand.

  It was the sound of his name that led her to him, and as soon as she mentally took his strand, the carpet representing the future returned.

  A glance showed the convergence of threads, the extinguishment of Gulzar’s life in less than an hour’s time, less than it would take her or Tir to get to him.

  Araña moved toward the moment, wanting to witness the truth of it.

  Pain stopped her before she reached it, shocking in its intensity and unexpectedness.

  Malahel’s voice spoke in her mind, blocking the pain. Your body tethers you and calls you back. It can’t survive long without your spirit housed within it. Beyond that, this realm belongs to the Spider Djinn. You’ve mingled your soul with our enemy’s and that also limits your time here.

  Araña had always thought the pain was caused by the mark forcing a choice on her. Now, with a thought, she could feel the strand holding her to her body. With it came an awareness that was real, not phantom.

  Blood dripped from her nose and onto her breasts. Tir cursed and willed her back to him.

  The vision place itself pushed and contracted, as if it would cast her from the womb where the future was formed.

  She knew instinctively she’d traveled here too many times in the span of a few days for it to be easily reached again, at least for a while. And when the pain returned, she couldn’t fight it.

  “Never again,” Tir said as soon as their eyes met.

  “I’m okay,” she said, finding her nosebleed had already stopped. “And the price was worth it. Anton and Farold’s helper isn’t at the maze tonight. He’s at a house in the red zone. He’ll be dead in an hour. The car is there along with keys and gate controller. I can describe the route and you—”

  “Will remain here with you until sunrise. Rimmon’s promise of protection covers only the boat. I don’t intend to allow you out of my sight again until I’m free of the collar.”

  She opened her mouth to protest then closed it again, knowing it would be futile. Tomorrow, after they’d gotten to Gulzar’s house, she’d find a way to convince Tir to let her confront Abijah alone.


  “I won’t lose you,” he said, standing with her in his arms and taking the few steps necessary to reach the bathroom.

  He pulled the paneled door of the shower stall open and turned on the water, adjusting the temperature before setting her to her feet.

  Her cunt lips grew slick and swollen with the thought of his lathered hands on her flesh, of hers on his. “There’s not much room for two people.”

  Tir urged her underneath the warm spray and joined her, crowding her against the wall, his hardened cock trapped between their bodies. “For what I intend, we don’t need much of it.”

  Twenty-five

  “LOOKS like they’re getting ready to leave,” Levi said as he and Rebekka cleared the last of the tangled ruins that had once been trucking containers and multimillion-dollar cranes.

  Rebekka nodded but didn’t say anything. The day of the ambush she’d been consumed with thoughts of the child crying in the cab of the trapper’s truck and the Weres held in the back of it.

  She’d been battling fear at the sound of the approaching guardsmen—and if she was honest with herself—didn’t want to look too closely at a man she knew they’d have to leave behind.

  But as Tir turned, sensing their approach and nudging Araña, Rebekka knew he wasn’t human, despite the form he took—just as she’d known the same about Zurael and their raven-marked escort, though Levi had claimed otherwise on their walk to Rimmon’s dock.

  Surreptitiously she touched the witch’s token in her pocket, attributing her newfound sight to it, then shivered as she remembered the icy feel of Aziel’s staff passing through her chest and her heart.

  “How is it you’re free, healer?” Tir asked when she and Levi reached the dock.

  There was something in his voice that made it impossible not to answer, though Rebekka told him an abbreviated version of what she’d shared with Levi, leaving out what she knew of the urn and what Annalise had told her—only to get a small shock when Araña said, “I encountered Aziel in the ghostlands. The shamaness greeted him with warmth.”

  “When?” Tir asked. And there was no mistaking the edge of menace contained in the single word.