Tangled Webs
Page 13
Aurelia shook her behind and air-kissed towards the crowd.
Her manager whispered something in her father’s ear and he actually nodded yes.
This moment was better than anything she’d ever felt and she threw herself into the part, a star, as people pushed in closer to listen and some even danced.
Bliss. She felt important for the first time in her life and knew that this evening would change her life.
Her mobile was sitting on a table near the microphone. It buzzed and rang.
One of the security guards approached her with it.
She continued to sing, furious that a peon would have the balls to interrupt her moment.
He would be let go tonight; she would make damn sure of that.
The man was relentless and finally, she stopped singing to whisper, “What is it?”
“Please,” he begged, “Follow me.”
Part of her new and improved persona was to keep the anger in check and so she attempted to use charm instead, “Thank you so much everyone. Grab a drink, your patience is amazing. Be right back.”
Unable to keep her cool one second longer, she lashed at out him when they were out of view behind a rose bush, “How dare you!”
Men like him might be incapable of crying, but he looked down at his shoes and seemed deeply troubled.
Shaking his head, and whispering, “It’s not like that Miss,” as he gently pushed the phone towards her.
“Pronto?” To her ear the phone went, as curiosity got the best of her.
“Ah. This is quite difficult. Is this Ms. Wolf?”
“Sì, sono, Aurelia Wolf. Sorry, but I’m extremely busy right now. Call back and speak to my assistant Pietra in the morning. I…”
The mysterious man cleared his throat and rudely interrupted, “She’s missing. Your mother. She was in the mountains heli-skiing and the copter went down somewhere near the Swiss-Italian border in the Alps. We have a team searching for them, but there was an avalanche. We had to pull back the rescue until daylight returns. I am so sorry. We’ve tried to contact your father numerous times, but all we got was his voicemail. It’s…well–– I try my best not to say troubling things like this on voice messages.”
A tumult of emotions rolled through her, grief, anger and lastly––rage from knowing her mother had missed her most important birthday, on purpose.
Selfish, so selfish, choosing to spend the weekend with her shallow friends and now she had the audacity to go missing.
Her father approached with a question in his eyes and she almost fainted when behind him arrived a glamorous, and gothic vision.
Dressed all in black, a goddess sipped champagne, laughed behind her hand and smiled maliciously.
Feathers, sequins and yards of Mommé silk met perfect makeup and glossy hair.
Impossible. Infuriating. Disgusting. Powerful. Vixen.
The blood in her veins boiled at the sight of Pietra wearing her one-of-a-kind, on her celebration day, and at her party.
Unable to control herself, she pushed her father aside and tried to grapple Pietra.
She wanted to rip off that gown and scratch out that woman’s insipid eyes.
How could such a perfect night become such a disaster?
The crowd gasped in horror as she snatched and pulled at the asymmetrical shoulder strap. Exotic feathers flew in the air.
Jet-black crystals popped off and landed like onyx rain in the Venus pool.
Instead of Pietra wincing or even apologizing, she allowed it.
A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. No fear of retribution reflected in her gaze.
It showed just how much she enjoyed Aurelia’s public humiliation.
The glass tumbled away and she chuckled again, but this time it sounded more like a battle cry.
Her cool demeanor awakened something even viler in Aurelia, something dark, crushing, feral and dangerous.
The heiress had it in her to break someone and perhaps it would speak in tongues tonight?
No one got in their way and the irreplaceable dress was torn to pieces.
Oddly the sleek lining of the slip seemed to shimmer, shudder and shine like glass. The more it was destroyed by her childish spite, the more it seemed to change and animate.
Somehow the slippery silk had become part of Pietra’s skin and body, as if she were no longer human.
As if she were…
A collective gasp came from every eyewitness on the terrace, as the seams of the slip split apart and one leg, then the other was exposed.
Terror. No. Complete and utter terror.
True nature was on display, and its physicality had taken an especially dark turn.
The careless socialite and the downtrodden woman who was never human in the first place faced off.
A spider, no Pietra was a tarantula. But this wasn’t possible.
How could it be?
Somehow her assistant was trapped inside the gruesome body of a poisonous spider, but Aurelia asked herself over and over, what sort of arachnid grows over five feet tall?
Rather than backing down or accepting that she might have been partly to blame for this mind-boggling metamorphosis, she cursed and struck the monstrosity on the leg with a dining chair.
The spider did not cry out or even act as if it was hurt.
A security guard whistled and yelled, “Everyone get down!”
Someone shot Pietra in the chest twice and one of the French doors behind her shattered as stray bullets caught the metal doorframe.
Nothing happened to the grotesque beast. The ammunition had deflected easily… as if nothing could stop it, as if it were from another world and the rules did not apply.
Instead of being wounded, the thing moved gracefully to the stage.
More grotesque, more shocking––as if the band knew and could read her insectival mind, they began to play the Tarantella.
It’s a folksong that everyone in the region learned when they were a child and one that carried a disturbing myth along with it.
On somber notes from the electric piano with the violinist screeching music across the horsehairs, the thing that used to be Pietra danced. And danced. And danced.
A ghoulish ballerina who wished to captivate, enchant and destroy. A denizen of the darkness imbued with a choir of shadows and a terrible whim.
The web was spun beneath the summer moon, but it was stitched of starlight, karma and syncopation.
Through the crowd, she danced along the edge of the sea.
Haunted and terrible, the spider wove wicked magic. No one ran away, and for the first time that night, no one took photographs.
A spell. A powerful wave seemed to hold them all in place like marionettes in a grim sideshow.
Finally, the music stopped and the band members fainted behind their instruments, useless as rag dolls.
It wasn’t over though, not even close.
The spider clambered up on a table, guzzled another glass of champagne and crushed the wine glass with its massive jaws.
Then slowly, ever so slowly it dropped down on its eight legs and circled Aurelia like a carnivore hunting its prey.
Cat and mouse, spider and fly.
The scent of adrenaline and hot blood was thick in the air.
It smelled like revenge, “I always knew who I was and what I was meant to be. You have no heart, Aurelia Wolf. Your birthday present from me is one I’ve been saving to give someone for a long, long time. I ask by the memory of your race, are ye worthy of the name! Tarantian women can die, and live free.”
How on earth could a spider be talking and speaking perfect Italian?
No. That wasn’t it. Her head ached and even as she prayed for anyone to explain or help, it was crystal-clear that she was on her own.
How could a human woman become an insect?
It was all so confusing and Aurelia wondered if someone had drugged her cocktail.
Was she hallucinating and this was a nightmare?
&nb
sp; She hadn’t had a drop to drink though and she’d barely eaten a thing for almost three days.
The moment. The second she let her guard down, the spider leapt with calculated grace and shoved her down on the stone pavers.
The crowd gasped again, but no one came to her rescue.
The arachnid bit Aurelia so hard with her fang-tipped jaws that it drew blood.
Where she was punctured did not ooze or run crimson down her neck. Instead, she tingled from head to toe.
Violently ill, as she stood back up and tottered, dizzy in her highest of heels.
“I will kill you for this.” She seethed, but the spider merely stepped back and watched.
Madness coursed through her arms and legs, fire and brimstone floated from her learned intolerance.
A hellish and heinous syrup soaked into her sponge-like mind. What had she become?
The band energized and began to play that dreaded folk song, but it was faster, more intense, brazen and wild.
She danced and she spun, then she felt the overwhelming urge to bite someone else.
Instantly they were as possessed as she was, until everyone was in frenzy and no one, but the spider remained unaffected, stoic and still.
Pietra the spider watched the chaos alone, clinging to the edge of a pink tablecloth.
The partygoers and hired help alike danced like brain-dead zombies, unemotional machines who’d gone off their programs.
Night creatures watched the carnage, as starlight revealed the awakening that came only once every five hundred years.
The music grew louder and the guests were so utterly exhausted, but they couldn’t stop and they didn’t stop, some danced right into the deep end of the pool and some twirled into the dahlia maze or up the stairs inside the mansion.
Pietra no longer cared about the rules, as her destiny finally arrived, just as she knew for certain it would.
Her body finally resumed its human form, but she was naked and shivering cold until something soft wrapped around her body and a strong, masculine hand spun her around.
It was a robe from the cabana. Turkish cotton, so pricey that she wouldn’t dare wear something like it at home or spend her money on something so decadent.
“Silvio! How?”
“Shh. You’ll wake them from their trance. You don’t want to see what comes next, my tenacious spider.”
He collected her things from the kitchen closet and pulled a suitcase from the van.
“How did you know? Did you see me when I?”
“Perhaps.” Silvio grinned and took her hand, “We must go. I hope you aren’t afraid of the water?”
The terrace ended and the sea gleamed with mystery, a tiny launch bobbed on the waves.
Untying the skiff, he motioned for her to step into the boat, as he cast off the bowline.
The motor sputtered to life and soon the shore was simply a line of lights. The strange music and noise of the party faded away.
An amazing yacht was in sight.
He turned off the motor when they tied up and climbed aboard.
She was afraid, and ecstatic at the same time… wondering if someone had stayed behind to protect the luxurious boat.
What might it be like to live this way for a day or a week?
Pietra was quite concerned, not wanting him to get in trouble for her choices.
“This boat is not ours and someone will come for us. They have guns, Silvio. Something awful will happen. Please. It’s not worth it. You don’t want to be seen with me. I am not worthy. We should go back, I have responsibilities.”
In the moonlight his dark brows arched and for only a moment she glimpsed the spider inside him.
They were a match. They were the same.
Together, they had become something else.
More arguments bubbled up to torment her, as she knew from experience that ambitious men like Mr. Wolf did not simply give up or allow people like them to live their lives with the same freedom.
“My parents need me. Regardless of what I want, I cannot leave them.”
“I know all about who you are Pietra. They are safe and sound in a stateroom waiting to hear about your adventure. They warned me on the phone this afternoon that you would make your place in history tonight. It’s a new beginning for all of us. You’ll understand soon. I’ve worked for many years on my uncle’s fishing trawler and I love the sea. No one from that party shall ever leave the estate. Fate can be so terrible. So extraordinarily cruel.”
He gently took her hand and showed her the way, as waves gently bounced the super yacht, Arachidamia on its mooring.
Just before he opened the door, he stopped and offered her a look of deep affection. “There are worse things in the world than being chased by wolves, even by the ones we know. We are warriors tonight. I wasn’t sure if you had it in you. Che palle!”
Silvio chuckled with admiration, “What a stunning moment for Taranto. I am ever so proud that you finally stood up to her. Perhaps the next time you will simply share how you’re feeling and get it off of your chest? You amaze me.”
With a slick smile and coy tilt of his head, he kissed her cheek and whispered softly in her ear, “No longer the fly my darling love. Never again, the fly.”
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La Fine.
Seasonal Recipes
Enjoy delicious and inventive recipes from our house to yours and start cooking up something delicious! The most memorable stories always begin in the kitchen with good company, savory food and a glass of wine…
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Cheers and best wishes – Bibiana and Veronica
© Aleisha Kalina via Unsplash
Halloween Charcuterie Board
I have become a huge fan of these delightful culinary combos after a delightful afternoon sampling fine wines in Paso Robles and nibbling on a combo of yummy delights. They’re a great alternative for a light meal, easy peasy for a gathering and the best thing—you can always try something new to expand your culinary horizons!
Dressing up your board with mini pumpkins, sprigs of herbs (dill, rosemary, thyme) and Halloween decor will make for a #bootiful platter to be enjoyed by every ghoul!! Some of Veronica’s faves:
Cheeses: Crumbled blue cheese with a sprinkling of crushed pink peppercorns; A wedge of parmesan; baked brie topped with orange marmalade and dried cranberries; smoked Gouda; cream cheese spreads (garlic, herb, pumpkin…)
Meats: Prosciutto; Honey baked ham slices; Baby-back ribs; thin sliced sausage (your choice—salami, pepperoni…); smoked salmon
Fruits: Dried apricots, grape halved, fresh dates, cherries (love the Rainer variety when in season); grilled, glazed pineapple
Breads: Baguettes, Sourdough (I like to slice the bread to cracker size, coat with olive oil, sea salt and cracked pepper and bake ‘til crisp), Ciabatta, crackers (your choice, my current fave is Triscuit Avocado-Cilantro.)
Accompaniments: Pickled baby beets; capers; pickled okra; hot & spicy sweet pickles (Wickles is my fave); cherry peppers
Spreads: Honey, whole grain mustard, creamy horseradish. Wine jellies (Port, Rose, Champagne)
© Kelly Sikkema via Unsplash
Life can be so darn challenging.
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Take time out this autumn to enjoy nature, put your feet up, get cozy and breathe.
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The following recipe is a staple in Bibiana’s arsenal that will help battle a bad sniffle day and a ‘I can’t believe what happened at work day alike.’
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Relax!
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Bibiana’s Hot Buttered Rum
1 stick softened and unsalted, high-quality butter
½ cup dark brown sugar
1 teaspoon real vanilla extract
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon ground cloves
1 teaspoon ground nutmeg
Dash of Himalayan pink salt
2 oz. dark rum (Pussers British Navy® or Cruzan® are A+ if you can
find them)
6 oz. hot water
1 heat-proof Irish coffee mug or stoneware coffee cup
Cinnamon stick for garnish (optional)
electric hand mixer
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In a mixing bowl, combine butter, vanilla extract, sugar, spices and salt. Beat until well combined.
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***In a heat-proof mug, combine 2 oz. aged rum with 1 oz. and 2 heaping tablespoons, spiced-butter mixture.
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Remaining butter/spice mix can be kept in a Tupperware in the fridge to make more later. Yay!
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If you have a tea kettle use it, otherwise I fill a microwaveable two cup measure with water and heat it for about two minutes on high. Be careful as it will be very hot!
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Top off the rum and spice mix with extra hot water and stir until ingredients are well incorporated. Garnish with cinnamon stick or go for broke and leave that part out.
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Sip slowly in front of a roaring fire with this book.
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Happiness found. You’re welcome.
© Timur Romanov via Unsplash
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V’s Green Goblins
One of my favorite, new liqueurs I discovered during lockdown is chartreuse, an earthy, herbal brew that packs a powerful punch!
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Absinthe is known as the green fairy, this fire water is definitely a green goblin IMHO! It’s a French liqueur invented by monks, steeped with over one hundred + herbs, available in green or yellow varieties. The green version has a higher alcohol content and makes for a particularly spookylicious, Halloween concoction.