Was there no one to step in and support Jack in this? He bet they were all too afraid to say what they were really thinking.
“Listen, Roux—”
The chat straightened up with the rapier in his massive paw-hand. “It’s monsieur Chat-Bonnes to you!”
Jack snorted. “My mother’s cat was called Mr. Paws. Is that what your name means?” He kept his gaze on the tip of the sword. Inhuman or not, chats were known for speed and acrobatics, and he would not be injured before he got his hands on Nessie!
“And you’ll be called Mr. Emmental once I’m done with you!”
Jack squinted at Roux, unsure if he should be offended or not.
“It’s a cheese, you bumpkin! With holes. Don’t you have proper dairy where you’re from?”
Enough was enough. Jack pushed the rapier aside and kicked at Roux’s legs, attempting to knock him off his feet. But instead of dropping like a log, the chat gracefully caught himself mid-fall and skipped away, squaring his shoulders once he stood. “What a dirty move. So typical.”
Fire burned in Jack’s veins, and he scowled, squeezing his fist until it creaked. “What are you trying to say, huh? A diploma doesn’t make you any less of a pussycat. Even the device you carry at your belt has my name on it!” he said, indicating the well-polished addison attached to Roux’s hip.
The chat let out a hiss, and his whiskers bristled when he revealed his sharp canines. “Is there anything you worked for yourself? Did you even have to pass any exams at the academy with that last name, or did Daddy take care of it all for you?”
That was a blow below the belt, but it still had Jack still for a few moments. He wanted to deny it all, but words got stuck in his throat, because Roux was right. Were it not for Jack’s name, he’d have probably failed before the first year was out. But the academy did not want “Kraken” Addison’s kid out, so Jack had been repeatedly given opportunities no one else got.
“Spit that out, animal.”
“Never!” Roux hissed, his ears flattening right before he pounced at Jack with his rapier and missed Jack’s arm by half an inch, only thanks to Jack’s reflexes. So maybe his schooling was patchy at best, but he did excel at its physical aspects.
The people around them became a blur. Jack attempted to strike Roux’s muzzle, but the chat skipped through the air and landed on the table, crouching amidst dirty plates. His large ears lay flat against his head, but the moment the barman approached him, ready to berate Roux for jumping on tables, Jack’s opponent shot through the air as if his bones were hollow.
Jack swallowed, balling one hand into a fist and pulling out his hunting knife with the other. The Gouger was not meant for this kind of petty fights. After all, Jack didn’t want the chat dead. “If you want to be a man, then fight like one, you coward!”
That worked, but Jack didn’t expect the force with which Roux’s rapier would meet his own blade, and he slipped on spilled liquor. The chat continued his assault even after Jack fell, so with blood pumping in his veins like mad, Jack was left deflecting. From the corner of his eye he spotted an opportunity.
When Roux thrust his rapier forward again, Jack rolled back, grabbed the legs of a nearby chair and swung it at Roux’s feet, hitting his target. Satisfaction exploded in his heart at the sound of a panicked cat-like whine, and the chat fell without the earlier grace. Blood spilled from his pink nose when his chin hit the counter on the way, but Jack wasn’t done yet. He rolled to his knees and pushed the chair, not only trapping Roux under it but also putting down more weight to teach the thing a lesson.
Nobody disrespected Jack Addison. Especially not some entitled creature.
“That’s enough!” Drake said, trying to pull Jack back, but he was too caught up in his triumph to listen.
“Are we done here, pussycat?”
Someone burst in through the front door, huffing for breath. “Nessie’s been spotted!”
Chapter 2
Nessie. His first job. A big one at that. A head for Jack’s empty trophy wall. He could not let anyone get to the monster before him. He froze between the desire to hunt and his pride, but the moment his attention slipped, one of the furry paws pulled out of his grip. He instinctively recoiled when a flash of red appeared before his eyes, but he wasn’t quick enough, and the nails tore through his cheek, leaving behind a violent sting.
“You fucking thing! Stay down,” he snarled and jumped to his feet. He was an Addison. He wouldn’t let some chat pull him away from his destiny.
With his hand against his aching face and blood dripping from between his fingers, he joined the crowd of venators leaving the inn. He didn’t even spare the animal a glance. Greatness awaited him just outside the inn and he wouldn’t waste another second.
He slammed into Drake, who moved the other way and offered Jack a frown. “The kitty got you?”
The question tore through Jack’s mood like a blade. Just great. Now he’d be the laughing stock of all the venators. The stakes for catching Nessie couldn’t have been any higher. “He did it after I already pulled away. Typical chat. They’re not known for playing fair.”
Drake nodded. “Backstabbers.”
But there was no time to waste on petty conversation when his face hurt as if cut by razors, and the others wouldn’t wait to check up on him or listen to his story. They all wanted a piece of Nessie, so Jack followed them into the night, running blindly down toward the lake.
Many venators were already ahead of them, following clues shouted by watchmen perched in trees, and Jack clenched his jaw, counting his fellow hunters. There were too many. If he stabbed Nessie in the heart, his achievement would inevitably remain unnoticed in the crowd of venators who would be credited with the kill by participation alone.
What a disgrace. He couldn’t let that happen. But he had no clues other than the ones shouted from above, so he followed the procession of venators who were chatting as if this were a marketplace, not a hunt. Because what else could he do?
Instead of staying by the loch, they ventured into the woods, and Jack’s enthusiasm dwindled until he was among those lagging behind. What a useless day. He should have planned this more carefully. He had burning wounds on his cheek, and little to no chance at finding glory tonight.
That was, until his new generation addison trembled against his thigh.
Jack stood still, startled, but there was no doubt that the device was giving him a signal.
He swallowed and looked at the others, but the venators paid him little attention, too busy wasting time on conversation as if none of them felt that Nessie was within reach.
Who had given them their diplomas?
He stepped aside, between the bushes, acting as if he were planning to relieve his bladder, and only once he was out of sight, he glanced at the device.
The little arrow point away from the path taken by the venators blindly roaming through the forest. None of their devices had picked up the faint magnetic waves emitted by a crack between dimensions, but Jack had the best of the best, and he now had the advantage he needed to get to the monster first.
The arrow indicated at a steep wall of rocks, and when Jack strained his eyes, he realized that the darker color, that at first glance seemed like just shadow, might be a discreet entrance to a cave.
Perhaps this undiscovered place was where the monster originally entered this world. The device vibrated against his hip, but he knew how elusive Nessie was and ended up switching it off to stop it from making any more noise. The crack in the rocks hadn’t been an optical illusion, and when Jack approached, with his heart beating fast from the excitement of his very first real hunt, cool, damp air blew into his face. Jack’s feet moved over the soft moss until he reached the entrance of the hidden cave and peeked inside.
The tunnel was narrow, but for all they knew, Nessie could be a shapeshifter, or a blob of goo that moulded its body to the cracks. Hairs stood on the back of his neck at the sound of a strange clicking noise that resonated a
ll the way to his bones, but he pushed on.
From afar, the cave entrance had looked more like a trick of light, but once Jack pulled in his stomach and stood on his toes, getting through the cramped space became a possibility. He tried to breathe quietly, giving himself time to listen after each step forward, but once he could move freely, the dilemma presented by the absolute darkness inside the cave made him stop for a couple of moments. The hollowness of the space around Jack made his skin crawl, even though he couldn’t hear anything encroaching. There was the rhythmic sound of water dropping at regular intervals, but other than that? Nothing.
He spread his arms and tried to touch the walls but only met air, which posed the question: how big was this cave?
He hesitated for a couple more heartbeats, but there was no point of going on a hunt if he couldn’t see, even if the light might betray his presence to the monster. He pulled out his lamp and found the switch. The portable electric lights were still very new, so Jack assumed most venators at this hunt would have to rely on oil, but Jack Addison had all the latest technology. Nessie would become the first trophy on his wall.
Was his wall even big enough?
His thoughts were stopped short by another series of the clicking noises he’d heard before. They were unsettling enough to make him stop and stare into the darkness surrounding him.
A whisper followed with gusts of cold air. Jack turned, barely capable of controlling the sudden tension in his limbs. His brain kept telling him that it was just irrational fear, but his body wouldn’t listen and shook gently, sending Jack’s senses into overdrive.
Something scratched the stone floor right behind him, and he slowly, very slowly looked back, squeezing his sweaty hand on the lamp.
He switched it on.
The massive form above him flinched at the change in illumination, and Jack backed away so fast he almost fell over when the heel of his boot hit a rock. The creature moved on hairy stilts, but Jack didn’t want to see any more. He turned away and ran deeper into the cave, practically flying down the irregular path between tall rock formations, forgetting even his name.
He’d faced captured monsters back at school, but none of them was this big. None of them had faced him one-on-one either, and the sense of absolute dread pushed him forward, as if there was no other option.
If only he could find a small crack that he could crawl into and wait until the thing was gone.
The clicking noise followed him, and when Jack realized it was getting louder, he screamed. He should have waited and gone with the others. He shouldn’t have been such a fool. His heartbeat was out of control spurred on by a vision of the monster’s jaws on his flesh, but he was too scared to glance over his shoulder and check what the creature actually looked like, other than having long hairy legs.
Then again, maybe he should face it? His imagination had surely provided images far worse than reality could be. So he gathered the courage and turned his head.
The single lamp created deep shadows, somehow making the creature chasing Jack even more impressive. It moved on stilt-like legs, dragging its massive body through the air as if it weighed close to nothing. Something small moved where he imagined its mouth to be, but with the illumination so unstable Jack wasn’t even sure if he would hit its head, if he tried to shoot.
He collided with a strange, yielding surface. Jack sucked in air as his electric lamp dropped. He stepped back—or at least tried to, but the gluey threads pulled him back in. They stuck to his cheek, to his clothes, and the approaching monster slowed down. Did it know that Jack was trapped? Did it have the mental capacity to have set this up in advance?
He sure as fuck had no mental capacity for anything but screaming when the creature reached the threshold of light, and all eight black eyes glistened, staring at Jack with emptiness that could swallow even the surrounding darkness.
It was a spider.
A spider the size of an elephant.
Jack could barely breathe, stiff with fear as the giant arachnid approached its trap, moving the strange claws at the front of its face. Bristle-like fur covered all of its body, and when it sank low, hovering its fat abdomen above the cave floor, the movement was like a dance.
Did this creature play with its food?
Fuck… fuck… This couldn’t possibly be Nessie, which was known to be a marine beast. This was something else, not yet known to science. Perhaps Jack should have paid more attention to his studies when he still had the chance.
He tried to reach one of his weapons, but with both his arms trapped by the sticky web, he had no chance of grabbing anything and remained at the mercy of the monster that was already making his guts turn inside-out with fear.
“Do… y-you speak?” he tried, and it came out with a pathetic whimper when the spider leaned forward and moved the bristles on its jaws to reveal two sharp fangs. Black and already dripping with some kind of slime, just the sight of them made Jack push back into the web and cry out.
He still tried to struggle, but it was no use. The web was too strong even for him.
He would end up poisoned and devoured—his liquidized insides consumed by this huge arachnid, and no one would ever speak of him fondly. Gone before he could even make a name for himself.
A scream tore out of his throat when something hard moved down his back. The spider was close. He could sense its musky smell, and hear the clicking noises it made with the jaws all too close. Was it trying to communicate?
Would it hurt to be eaten, or would he die quickly? Maybe the creature would tranquilize him first so he wouldn’t have to suffer? Back at school, he’d heard the story of a venator found with holes in his body, his organs removed. Only much later had investigators found out that vultures had stuffed their heads into him and eaten the carcass from the inside. It had seemed a curious gory tale back then. Now—not so much.
One of the fangs touched Jack’s lips, and when he turned his head away in panic, the creature followed, eventually pressing the slick black fang into his mouth, so that he couldn’t even scream.
Too scared to do anything, he shuddered as the oddly sweet substance trickled into his mouth. It was like sugar syrup flavored with something slightly bitter, but he had no choice but to accept what was happening to him as the spider’s large body pushed on him from behind. Its long legs spread over the web until Jack’s miniscule size was completely hidden. The spider’s saliva slowly dribbled into Jack’s mouth, filling it until he was forced to repeatedly swallow, on the verge of hope that maybe if he stayed completely still, the monster would lose interest.
Or was he swallowing a solution that would melt his insides for the creature to suck out? Even Gouger wouldn’t save Jack now. With no choice left but to stay still, he let more tears spill down his face. Why had he been so stupid? He wasn’t ready to die. He should have started small, hunting down necrorats in London sewers, not trying to slay Nessie. There were still so many things he wanted to do, countries he craved to explore. Was he supposed to die a virgin?
So unfair.
He shrieked when the spider pulled back its fang, but it stayed close to Jack, as if it wanted to absorb his body heat. Its furry jaws kept moving against the back of his head, but the arachnid wasn’t striking yet.
Jack cleared his throat when it became oddly hot. A couple of seconds later, so did his stomach, and after a bit more time, it felt as if there was a burning trail linking Jack’s mouth with his innards.
A sob escaped his lips. It was coming. He would be melted from the inside, and this was only the beginning. Already, his head was starting to spin from the odd heat that would surely turn into pain.
But instead, he was only getting more erratic. From his ears, to his toes, he was engulfed in flames, yet no pain followed. He licked the sweat off his lip but became attentive once more when the spider dragged its terrifying leg along his back, ripping his jacket and shirt with its claw. Gouger fell with a dull clang, like the sign of ultimate defeat.
J
ack wanted to beg for his life, understanding that the monster would now feast on him, and there was nothing he could do, no matter how much he pulled on the sticky cobweb. Only a babble he himself didn’t understand came out of his mouth, accompanied by drool spilling down his chin. Was he losing motor functions already? His skin felt oddly sensitive, and when the spider’s jaws twitched by his naked back, the sensation of its hair touching skin had Jack twitching with something that was oddly like pleasure, no matter how much that went against his rational thought.
The arachnid clicked loudly, sounding almost gleeful as it moved over Jack, pushing his legs wider apart. The pressure on the limbs grew, and despite the haze clouding Jack’s overheated brain, he realized the monster was securing his legs in place with yet more cobweb.
Stay still, it seemed to say.
There was no point trying to reason with the thing, but Jack still tried, frustrated when his tongue wouldn’t move as normal, which resulted in slurred speech.
A huffing noise came from the spider, but when it rubbed its abdomen up and down Jack’s naked back, the touch no longer felt intrusive. The tickling sensation transformed into heat that relaxed all of Jack’s muscles, leaving him absolutely defenceless, but also devoid of fear. Perhaps it was physically impossible for the human body to take so much stress at once, and it gave up?
That thought only lasted a couple of minutes, because when something blunt thrust between Jack’s thighs, his entire body shook, struggling uselessly against the entrapment. The moment the spider ripped his pants in the middle, revealing his bare ass, he stopped moving altogether.
He was hit by the realization that the sounds, which before seemed random, had rhythm and sense. Could it be that the creature was in fact sentient?
Legs spread wide, clothes ripped, and sweating from the heat coming from inside him, there was nothing Jack could do when he realized that a slick appendage devoid of any hair was touching his inner thigh. Not a leg then.
He arched against the heat of the hairy body on top of him, and while one half of him was repulsed, the other yearned for the touch as if he were a mindless animal, thinking of only his current physical need.
Jack Addison vs. a Whole World of Hot Trouble - The Complete Series Page 2
