By a Thread

by Nyna Queen

  When they were about halfway up, Alex leaped onto the ladder, slipped along its bottom side, and came up in front of them. Ignoring their startled gasps, she quickly unlocked the door, pushed it open and leaned back to let the children pass. They rushed past her into the apartment in a flurry of thrashing limbs, and, with a last glance over her shoulder, Alex followed them inside.

  CHAPTER SIX

  ALEX collapsed against the door and closed her eyes, leaning the back of her head against the wood. Blood was rushing in her ears.

  A dream. Please let this all be a dream!

  But when she opened her eyes, they fell on two very real trueborn children cowering fearfully at the other end of the room. No dream then. Well, it would have been too good to be true.

  Now that she got a good look at the kids, she noted the obvious similarities in their appearance: same oval-shaped face, same round honey-brown eyes, same chocolate colored hair. Siblings, then. Figured. But where the boy sparked with an innate curiosity and had a wicked tug around his eyes that promised mischief and stolen cookies, the girl held herself chin up straight which made her look rather stiff, like a small version of an adult. There sure as hell was some nobility there, but whatever grace had been left at the bar, it had all been consumed by the run; their faces were flushed and sweaty, and dirt stains splattered their clothes. The girl’s hair had come halfway undone at some point during their flight and now hung strangely lopsided around her face. Nothing impressive about them now. In fact, the way they cowered in the corner of her hall reminded her of two little baby mice who’d found themselves in the lair of a cat. Which wasn’t too far from the truth.

  Their anxiousness perfused the room like sharp, poisonous threads, fraying on her thinning nerves and provoking the predator in her, but she kept an iron leash on it. The kids were already frightened enough as it was. It would do nobody any good if she went spider again.

  Exhaling slowly, Alex pushed herself off the door and noticed with a stab how they both winced at her movement. She clenched her teeth. Hadn’t she just saved their scrawny little asses? And still, they were looking at her as if she’d been the one pointing that gun at them!

  Relax, Alex told herself, they are just scared. And how couldn’t they be? They’d just been shot at and then they’d witnessed her sprouting fangs and claws and spilling those men’s organs all over the floor. If anything, they were entitled to be a little jumpy right now.

  When she opened her mouth—not quite sure herself what she was about to say—the girl took a small step forward, protectively putting herself in front of her little brother. Now, look at that. From the two of them, Alex would have thought the girl was the bigger wuss. Her move would have been a lot more impressive, too, if she wasn’t trembling like a leaf.

  “W-why d-did you bring us here?” Her voice was on the melodic side but held a shrill edge right now. “W-what are you g-gonna d-do with us?”

  Fair question. Truth was, Alex hadn’t exactly been thinking past getting them away from the immediate danger. What would happen afterward … beats me!

  The girl took her silence completely the wrong way. Her slim shoulders slumped, and all the mustered courage poured out of her.

  “Are you g-gonna k-k-kill us?” It was barely more than a whisper.

  Alex blinked. “Am I—? What? No! Of course not!” What the hell was she thinking? “Why would I do that?”

  A flash of defiance sparked in the girl’s eyes and her hands clenched at her sides.

  “You’re a shaper!” She hurled the words at Alex like knives and she couldn’t help flinching at the sharp accusation in them.

  She pressed her fingers to her eyelids. Of course. That’s what it always came down to, wasn’t it? The only thing that ever mattered. You could save anyone, yet the only thing people ever noted was the one thing she could never change. What she was: a shaper. And apparently by definition that made her a notorious child murderer.

  A hard knot formed in her belly. It shouldn’t matter. Shouldn’t be able to unhinge her like this. But somehow it always did.

  For a moment she was tempted to simply deny it, but then, what good would it do? They’d seen her true skin anyway.

  “Yes,” she confirmed through clenched teeth, “I’m a shaper.”

  Although she didn’t grace them with news, both kids inhaled sharply at this outspoken revelation. All of a sudden Alex felt incredibly angry.

  “And no,” she snapped, “I have no intention of killing you or harming you any other way. In fact, in case you didn’t notice, I just saved your wimpy lives out there. Speaking of which—I just killed five trueborns, and I really hope you have a good explanation for it because they’ll be all over my ass for this.”

  Silence.

  Alex leaned her hip against the door frame and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Well? I’m waiting.” And patience isn’t exactly one of my better virtues …

  Still—nothing.

  They just stared at her, obviously too frightened to respond.

  Alex let out a long breath. Right, this wouldn’t get them anywhere. Time for a different approach.

  Slowly she lowered her arms, palms out, in an I-mean-no-harm gesture. She might not have any experience with kids, but she knew how to deal with frightened prey. How different could it be, really?

  Keeping her hands where they could see them, she leaned her back against the wall again and propped the sole of one shoe against it, leg bent at the knee, making herself appear smaller. The kids’ eyes followed her every movement. Yeah, that’s right. I mean absolutely no harm.

  “I reckon we had a bad start,” Alex said, forcing her voice to be calm and carefree. “How about we give it a second try? Let’s take something simple for starters, like, for example, what’s your names?” It seemed as good a start as any.

  “Don’t tell her,” the girl hissed the same moment her brother said, “Maxwell.”

  The kids glared at each other for a second and the boy finally gave a helpless one shoulder shrug as if to say, “you can’t be rude”. She was starting to like that kid. Since he seemed the more approachable of the two, Alex focused her attention on him.

  “Maxwell, is it?”

  He swallowed hard with a sideway look at his sister but nodded.

  “Yes,” he said earnestly. “Maxwell Elroy Percival Ardogan Guiaume Baptiste—ouch!” His sister had elbowed him in the ribs and was shooting daggers at him from her eyes. Oh yeah, I know who’s the bitch here.

  Alex let out a low whistle. “Wow. That’s kind of a huge name for such a little boy!”

  “Hey!” he protested, pushing out his lower lip indignantly, “it’s not like I’m a baby or something. I’m ten!”

  Ugh, touchy, huh? Nothing to warm the crown jewels, but already ready for the big show.

  Alex raised her hands in a placatory gesture. “I didn’t mean to imply—oh well, never mind. Guess you’ll grow into it someday.”

  Whipping on the balls of her toes, she sucked on her lower lip for a moment. “How about I just call you something for short, say—Max?” I don’t wanna spend all day just reciting names. She didn’t even remember all of them. What was that? Maxwell Elroy Percy … something?

  The boy seemed a little surprised about the suggestion, but after a couple of seconds, he bobbed his head in consent. A shy smile crept onto his face. Bam! Now that was some smile! It transformed his cute childish features into something close to angelic, already hinting heartthrob from every angle. Gee, that one would become a terrible heartbreaker.

  “Sure,” he told her. “Max is fine.”

  For some indiscernible reason, his sister scowled even more at that. Well, wasn’t she a little darling?

  “How about you, sugar?” Alex asked her with a sweet smile, unable to keep her teeth completely out of it. She knew because the girl turned yet another shade paler. Honestly, the cream wall behind her seemed colorful in comparison. “Do you also have a name or is lowlife shaper scum like me
unworthy to know?”

  Anger flashed in those honey-brown eyes. So, there was a temper beneath all that swooning and squeamishness. The girl’s lips pressed into a tight line. For a moment Alex thought she wouldn’t say anything, but finally, she muttered, “Josy,” and then pointedly stared at the floor.

  “Josy?” Alex raised an eyebrow, waiting for another row of pompous names, but none came. It seemed all the talk she’d be graced with. Well enough, she’d content herself with small steps.

  “Alright then,” she said, more cheerfully than she felt. “Max and Josy.”

  It was a start. Now she just had to keep going.

  She cleared her throat. “Would anyone care for something to drink?”

  Max’s hand shot in the air. Josy gave him another withering look.

  “What?” he asked, defensively. “I’m parched!”

  Parched, right. Was that even a word? In those noble households, they probably chained the kids to the walls and stuffed whole dictionaries down their throats.

  “But before you start,” Alex warned as she walked around the counter, “I have nothing fancy to offer. Just,” she opened the fridge door and scanned its pitiful capacities, “iced tea and frutinade. And of course, good old mother’s finest.

  “Tap water,” she added when they only gave her blank looks.

  “What is frutinade?” Max asked with a wary expression.

  Alex raised a brow. “Only feasting on champagne and caviar at home, huh?”

  “Champagne is for grown-ups!” Josy sounded scandalized by the mere suggestion.

  Hah! As if she’d have champagne to offer! As if she’d ever even tasted it. But her irony had obviously whistled right over the girl’s pretty head. Which probably meant that the caviar part was true. Well, why would she be surprised?

  “Frutinade is nonalcoholic,” she promised. “Cross my heart. It’s fruit. Like the name says. I have,” she leaned down and cleared out her little assortment from the fridge, “cranberry, ginger, and apple.”

  She popped her head over the counter, wiggling three differently colored bubbly glass bottles. And with that, her stocks were as good as depleted.

  Max held out his hand. “Apple, please.”

  Impressive. Guns were pointed at them, blood was spilled, but manners to a T. Those trueborn certainly knew how to breed them in.

  Alex uncapped the bottle with her teeth, ignoring Josy’s shocked yelp.

  “Apple it is.” She handed Max the bottle and was graced with another angelic smile. Alex felt genuinely sorry for his nanny or whoever was looking after him. He’d become a terrible nuisance as soon as he found out what that smile could do to the other gender. Probably already was.

  “Thanks, Miss.”

  Miss, huh? Hand a kid a drink and it would forget that five minutes earlier it had thought you wanted to murder it. She started to understand why that old luring with sweets thing always worked for child molesters.

  “You’re welcome,” she told him, “but don’t ‘miss’ me. I’m not a lady or anything.”

  Josy muttered something under her breath.

  “What’s that?”

  “Nothing,” the girl squeaked, panic flashing in her eyes. Yeah, nothing my ass!

  “What are we supposed to call you then?” Max asked quickly, and she realized that while worming their names out of them, she’d forgotten to give her own. Speaking of manners.

  She leaned her back against the counter, resting her elbows on the top to her sides. “Name’s Alex.”

  “That’s a boy’s name!” Josy blurted out and then clamped her mouth shut, clearly angry at herself for speaking up at all.

  Alex gritted her teeth to keep from a tart answer and shrugged. “Technically, it’s a gender-neutral name, which can be given to both, girls and boys—like Kim or Robin.”

  “Or Max,” Max quipped from the side. Alex winked at him with a gunpoint motion of her fingers. He grinned. Josy scowled.

  “However,” she went on, snatching the other two frutinade bottles, “in my case, it is the short-form of Alexis if that appeases your moral sensibilities.”

  The girl seemed to mull that over. Alex raised the bottles up to her, wagging up first the left then the right in a weighing motion. “Ginger or cranberry?”

  Josy looked away.

  Alex shrugged. Suit yourself, sugar.

  Choosing ginger for herself she opened the purple cranberry bottle first and put it onto the floor in front of the girl, in case she changed her mind. Josy’s eyes widened and she scrambled back against the wall—as if Alex had attempted to whack her over the head with that bottle. Suddenly Alex felt exhausted. Would that ever stop?

  Uncapping her own bottle, she eased herself onto the counter and took a long swig. Fizzzz. Now that felt good. She hadn’t even realized how much the fight and the run had dried her out. And if she was thirsty, the kids must be literally dying. Sure enough, Max’s bottle was almost empty already. Josy, however, wasn’t touching hers. Unconsciously wetting her bottom lip, she eyed the bottle warily, like people eyed a snake winding through the grass. A poisonous snake. Which was about to bite.

  Alex put down her bottle beside her, resting her elbows on her knees, and watched the girl with mild amusement.

  “You know, sugar,” she said dryly after a while, “if I wanted to poison you, I could simply bite you. No need to waste a perfectly good beverage.”

  Josy winced.

  Congrats, Alex, master of diplomacy. If somebody is afraid of you just tell them about your poisonous teeth. That’s just bound to open them up. Really, smart move!

  But finally, thirst won over pride and Josy picked up the bottle and took the tiniest sip. Three more seconds and she was guzzling it down like there was no tomorrow.

  Alex hid a smile behind her bottleneck. That wasn’t so hard, was it?

  She realized Max was gaping at her, a look of pure amazement plastered onto his face. She arched an eyebrow at him. He fidgeted with his bottle.

  “Do you—I mean—do you really?” he asked in a hushed voice. “Have poisonous teeth, I mean.”

  Ah, that. She almost laughed. Been nagging on you, hasn’t it?

  “Sure thing. My claws are poisonous, too.” She couldn’t exactly make it any worse, now could she? “In fact, most of us shapers have poisonous appendages.” Which was probably the very reason why they were all named after potentially venomous animals.

  The kid leaned forward, his brown button eyes sparkling with curiosity. “What kind of shaper are you?”

  Alex hesitated. It wasn’t usually a thing she just told anyone. There were certain differences between the different shaper breeds and their abilities. Always handy not having your enemies knowing your strengths—and weaknesses when it came to that. But now that she seemed to have stricken a chord, she didn’t want the conversation to die. And really, what harm could be done by telling these kids? They’d seen more of her true skin than she’d prefer, anyway.

  “I’m a spider.”

  Playing a hunch, she turned her head and flashed her true eyes and teeth at him. He jerked back with a yelp and shuddered exaggeratedly, while at the same time a wide grin split his face. “Ewww! So wicked!”

  Alex smirked. Josy made a faint whimpering noise like a strangled kitten, clearly not sharing her brother’s opinion. Max ignored her. “So, can you—like—turn into a giant spider or something?”

  Alex raised her brows again. “People actually believe that kind of shit?”

  She’d heard the stories, of course. Of shapers turning into giant beasts, human-sized nightmares, wrecking whole houses and slaughtering entire neighborhoods. Complete bullshit.

  Max shrugged, but his cheeks turned a little pink.

  “Some,” he said sheepishly. “My friend Boydon told me that shapers can grow twice their size and crack a human skull with one bite.”

  And here she was surprised that they thought she’d kill them without hesitation. What would be next? That they could
shoot fire from their asses?

  “Well, I’m afraid I have to disappoint you there, sugar. The names are just for classification. A categorization according to the appearance of our true skin and our abilities.” Alex grimaced. It was just so human. Everything had to be labeled and pigeonholed, neat and orderly, and shapers were pushed deep into the creepy-and-lethal-kind of hole: spiders, snakes, scorpions—just to name a few. Of course, genetically speaking, they were as close to those beasts as they were to a butterfly or a kitten or any other kind of animal. Still, it wasn’t hard to see the pattern there.

  “We do have our second skin,” she added. “You’ve seen part of that. But we don’t turn into giant mythical beasts. Sorry, your friend is reading too many comic books.”

  Max actually looked a little disappointed. Boys!

  Alex took another swig from her bottle and leaned back. “So, now that we’ve settled that, I think it’s time you told me what brings two little trueborn aristo kids to a place like the Jester’s Inn.”

  Two pairs of round honey-colored eyes stared at her, shocked.

  Come on, you didn’t really think I wasn’t aware of that juicy little tidbit, did you? Please. One didn’t have to be very clever to guess that much.

  “Well?”

  Suddenly something on the floor in front of Max became quite interesting and Josy studied the label on the bottle in her hand with newfound curiosity.

  Oh no, not a chance. If they thought she’d drop it that easily, they were sadly mistaken.

  Josy chanced a glance at her and cringed when she found herself at the receiving end of Alex’s hard stare. Alex pulled one foot onto the counter and wrapped her arms around her knee, indicating she was perfectly comfortable. She cocked her head to the side. I can play this game all day. Can you?

  The girl squirmed under her unrelenting gaze. Finally, her shoulders drooped in defeat.

  “Fine,” she muttered. “We were on our way home from school and—”

  “Wait—it’s Saturday.” Who went to school on a Saturday? Did she think she was born yesterday?