by Nyna Queen
Being a Dubois entailed a certain kind of social pressure, he reflected, but he saw no need to burden them with it before it became a real necessity.
After calming down enough to be able to talk again, the children launched into a vivid discussion about in what kinds of situations jinxing would be considered an adequate response.
Darken realized that the spider had been unusually quiet the whole time. When he turned his head, she was watching him from the passenger’s seat with a confused expression on her face, as if she’d just made a disconcerting discovery about him.
It bothered him a lot that he didn’t know what it was. It bothered him even more that he felt bothered by it at all. In fact, everything about her bothered him.
It had been fairly delightful to watch how she’d struggled to fight the effects of his magic—at least for a while. Usually, his victims quickly succumbed to its throes, turning either savage or catatonic. It went along with lowered inhibitions and a loss in body control, as well as a strong primal need for sexual satisfaction—the body’s way of dealing with the near-death experience, using the hormonal response to anchor the flesh to life again.
Alex had put up a good fight, there were no two opinions about that. It took some die hard mental strength to keep control like she had. Yet a bit of probing had confirmed that she wasn’t quite as immune to the effects as she pretended.
A sensible person would have surrendered and handed over the wheel. But not this spider. No. She had gritted her teeth and held on. Impressive—and stupid.
It made him wonder what would have happened if he hadn’t intervened. Would she have driven them into a tree or would she have seen sense and stopped by herself before that happened? There was no way to tell. This woman possessed more pride than sense and he didn’t think she always knew where her limits were. Leap first, look later. It made her both unpredictable and dangerous. And if there was something he couldn’t stand, it was things out of his control.
“Can you jinx, Alex?”
The fearless spider startled a little at being addressed by his nephew.
She leaned around to look at the boy and hiked one shoulder. “My magic is acceptable for a shaper and I do know a few jinxes myself, but usually my shaper abilities are far better suited for the kind of situations you were talking about. My brothers tried to jinx me a couple of times when we were young,” she added thoughtfully, “but I cured them pretty quickly from the idea.”
So, she had brothers, well, wasn’t that interesting? Perhaps it would be better to just let her keep talking. That way he would learn a lot more about her than by any direct questioning. And it seemed the children were much better at this, anyway. Figured, they had an innocent way of pulling information out of someone and she was a lot less guarded around them.
“Cured?” Josy asked with a puzzled frown. “How exactly can you cure somebody from that?”
A wicked glow entered Alex’s bright blue eyes and a malicious little smile curved her sensual lips. “I crept into their bedrooms at night and changed into my full spider skin, hanging from the ceiling just inches from their sleeping faces. And then I poked them awake.”
His niece sucked in a loud breath. Max leaned forward, completely hanging on her words.
“What’d they do?”
Alex grinned. “Well, let me put it this way: people do jump at the ceiling in fright, literally—even if they are not shapers.”
Max burst out laughing and even Josy’s mouth twitched as if she was trying to hold something in. Alex laughed too, throwing back her head and slightly arching her back. The gesture gave her face a youthful shine, wiping away the strain and worry that had tightened her skin and made him realize just how young she was: twenty-four or twenty-five, maybe even younger.
“My middle brother even wet himself, I think.” Alex bit her lower lip, and added ruefully, “I actually felt a little bad for him.”
“You can’t blame him,” Max said. “I’ve seen your teeth, they are pretty scary—aren’t they Uncle Darken?”
And suddenly all eyes in the car were focused on him, especially one pair of sharp ice-blue eyes, too interested in his response to that question.
Darken cleared his throat. “They are certainly big.”
That was all he was going to admit. “Come to think about it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a spider in her full shaper skin.”
That earned him a sharp glance. “And never will, as far as I’m concerned.”
And here she was again, the feisty little spider. Darken laughed quietly. “I didn’t mean for you to strip naked or anything. I was just talking about a tiny flash of skin.”
“In your dreams.”
A glacier wouldn’t radiate such biting coldness.
“Ah, now don’t be so squeamish,” he teased. The Great Mother have mercy on him, but it felt good to tease somebody. Somebody who wasn’t family. It seemed like forever since he’d done it. And she was so deliciously prone to rise to any bite when you’d discovered the right buttons to push.
“Come on, it won’t hurt you to show a little bit of skin.”
He grinned when she tensed beside him.
“Yes pleeeeease.” Max bobbed his head so hard he was in serious danger of a whiplash injury.
When she didn’t react, Darken leaned over and put a hint of that seductive purr into his voice that had made her so furious earlier. “Come on, Alexis Harper, show me your true skin.”
Instead of the snap-and-snarl reaction he had expected, she turned deathly pale at his words and for a second, he thought she would collapse.
“Stop the car,” she whispered.
“What did I—?”
“Stop. The. Car!”
The pained urgency in her voice made him comply without thinking. He hit the brakes and slithered to a halt at the side of the road beside a cornfield.
Before the tires had even come to a full stop, she had already snapped open her seat belt, bolted out of the door and vanished into the field, as if an army of forfeit were on her tail.
The children stared past her, as flabbergasted as he felt.
“What … just happened?“ Josy wanted to know.
Darken could only shake his head. “I have not the slightest idea.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
SHOW me your true skin.
Alex dashed through the cornfield, half-blindly plowing along the tall rows of plants, oblivious to the scratches she took on her arms and legs.
Show me your true skin.
The field abruptly ended in a little clearing and she stumbled into the opening.
Sturdy oak trees bordered this small patch of meadow grass and wildflowers, their gnarled branches dark against the sky at the approaching dusk. Alex took a few shaky steps and leaned against a tree, holding onto it with both hands, breathing hard, heart throbbing wildly in her chest. Her fingers ran along the rough bark, a steady anchor of life in a withering world, as she tried to dispel the shiver out of her bones, as she tried to keep herself together when everything in her wanted to shatter and break.
Come on, Alex, show me your true skin.
Just words, but they’d left deep scars on the invisible skin of her soul. Words that brought back the memories, ripping the scars open with fiery knives, leaving her heart bleeding again, like it had bled so long ago.
A stifled sob escaped her lips and she closed her eyes, pressing one hand against her chest.
The darkness in her mind was filled with Darken’s face, a lazy smile curving up his lips. “Come on, Alexis Harper, show me your true skin.”
And suddenly all she saw was the face changing into that of a handsome, blond young man in ripped blue jeans with bright green eyes winking at her and she turned sweet seventeen again, when she still had dreams. When she’d still been blue-eyed and innocent enough to believe that it didn’t matter what she was. Wouldn’t matter. Not when it came to love.
Tristan Grimes ginned at her from her memory, a teasing, daredevil grin
that made her knees go weak.
“Oh, come on, Alex,” he whispered, tickling her ear with his breath. “Don’t be a killjoy. Show me your skin.”
They had been together for a while then and when she finally found the courage to tell him about her true nature, he’d been intrigued, excited even. Instead of pushing her away as she’d almost expected despite her desperate hopes, he’d pushed her to show him what lay beneath that second skin she wore.
She should have known then. Should not have mistaken his interest for anything but plain human curiosity. But she’d been thrilled by his interest, and so deeply in love, she was blind and deaf to the voice of reason.
Stupid, really. So stupid.
Still, when he’d asked her to show him her skin, she’d hesitated, knowing that it was a freakish sight, that some people thought it was creepy. She told him it wasn’t a good idea, that it might freak him out and that she didn’t want to scare him away. But he had begged her so sweetly, all charms and kisses, hadn’t let it go until she finally gave in. After all, he’d told her he loved her. That nothing would ever change that. That they would stand together no matter what. The two of them against the rest of the world.
And she’d been stupid enough to believe that he meant it.
Great Mother, how wrong she had been. How terribly, terribly wrong.
She pressed the hand to her chest, felt the tips of her claws dig into the soft human skin above her breast. She couldn’t poison herself, but she could hurt. Most wounds healed over time, but a broken heart was the hardest part for the body to mend.
She still remembered the shock so clearly as if his face was right in front of her eyes. Sweet Jester, he’d been so disgusted.
Monster, he’d called her. Freak. Abomination. Words he’d hurled at her like stones bruising her limbs and fracturing her bones until she felt brittle in her skin.
It had been her mother all over again, but this time the betrayal had felt even greater. This time she understood exactly why he turned away from her.
He’d been appalled that he’d had it off with something so monstrous, had told her that things like her shouldn’t be allowed to exist. And she’d felt so ashamed, so worthless and … dirty.
And then, when she came to work the next day, she found that he’d spread her little secret to everyone, and the people with whom she’d happily chatted just the day before, the people who she’d used to sit together with during lunch break, suddenly gave her a wide berth, some of them throwing her anxious looks as if she might suddenly grow claws and attack them, others looking angry as if she’d somehow defiled them.
And Tristan had stood in front of them, with an ugly grin on his handsome face, and loudly bragged about how he’d fucked her. In that moment she’d realized that he had never loved her. She’d been fun to screw and enough of a hottie to be the trophy girlfriend he liked to present to his buddies. And then she’d been a curiosity worth beguiling until he got what he wanted from her. And gotten it he had. She had shown him her core and he’d stomped on her heart in thanks.
That night she’d packed up her backpack and left the city. Had sworn herself that she’d never let anyone this close again, that she’d never make herself vulnerable like this again. If somebody would see her true skin it would be because it would be the last sight he would ever get.
Of course, there had been some liaisons throughout the years, a little fun here and there, but nothing anywhere near serious. Nothing that went past giving her name—whatever name she’d carried at the time—and sometimes not even that.
A soft rustle of footsteps announced someone approaching from behind. The faintest thread of vibration tugged at her, striking a chord of her mental web. A moment later, Darken stepped into the clearing.
He stopped a couple of steps behind her.
Her body stiffened, and her hands curled into fists. Come to gloat?
Alex wished there was any defiance left in her, a streak of sass somewhere in the marrow of her bones, but there was nothing, only emptiness. With a deep breath, she turned around to him, bracing herself.
At the sight of her, he tightened like a panther scenting wounded prey and a sheen of angry red rolled over his irises. His eyes flickered from her face to the fist pressed to her chest and back, and she knew that despite her efforts she couldn’t quite get the bruised look off her face.
But instead of the expected scorn or reproach, she thought she saw a hint of concern beneath the hardness around his eyes. Hard to decipher from the muted whiff of emotions she received from him.
He approached her slowly, haltingly. Like one approached a wild, skittish animal that might shy away at any moment. She certainly felt like one, right now.
“Are you okay?” His low voice was husky, and the question felt strange coming from a man who’d admitted to being a state-licensed killer.
She wanted to tell him, no, she wasn’t okay, would probably never again be okay. She wanted to rip her heart out of her chest and present it to him on her outstretched hand to have, at last, somebody acknowledge the wounds that had been lashed into it.
She just stood there and looked at him.
Darken hesitated. “If I said something that upset you, I am sorry.”
It did sound sincere. And in this moment, she wished, she so desperately wanted, needed to believe that it was real. Just some kind of real emotion for her, and if it was only concern, and only from him, but then green eyes winked at her from the darkness of her memory, sparkling with “real” affection, with “real” love, and she slammed those shutters closed before they could open any further.
She couldn’t trust herself to know what was real and what wasn’t anymore. She felt so vulnerable and she hated it. Great Mother, how she hated it.
Alex swallowed. Took a shaky breath.
“It’s okay.” She forced herself to open her stiff fingers. “I just … It had nothing to do with you.”
The half-lie felt sour in her mouth, but she swallowed the taste like she’d swallowed frustration and rejection all her life. She saw—and even more felt—his confusion, but right now there were no words in her to explain any of this without ripping down the protective walls around her completely, and she was brittle enough already.
Exhaustion smothered her as she let go of the tree and she suddenly felt like she’d run a whole marathon without any chance to take a break.
“I’m fine,” she repeated, more to assure herself than anyone else. “We should move on.”
Without looking at Darken, she walked past him and made her way back to the car.
ALEX slumped in her seat, staring at the villages and farms rushing by outside the window without really seeing them.
The moment she had come back to the car, the kids had assaulted her with questions, but Darken had returned only a moment after her and one sharp glance from him had put a stop to it. Which she was extremely grateful for. His words had involuntarily ripped open an old wound, one she’d thought had healed by now, and the pain still felt too raw and too private to share it with anyone.
And somehow Darken, of all people, seemed to understand that.
Oh, it would have been easy enough for him to close up to her on the way back through the field and take her to task. She had almost waited for him to do it. Didn’t think Mr. I-need-to-know-everything would content himself with her non-explanation of her strange behavior.
But instead, he’d kept his distance, more than just in a physical way, as if he somehow felt—and respected—her need for space and privacy. It gave her the impression that he knew exactly how it felt when you were suffering from a wound of the past and needed time to deal with it on your own terms. Which made her wonder what secrets were hidden beneath that cold, indifferent mask he wore that would make him understand.
She turned her head just enough so that she could see his outline at the edge of her sight field.
This man was a well of never-ending confusion to her. She had hardly known him for twelve hours
and already seen so many different personas, she could barely keep track of them all: killer, prick, tease, trueborn richling, cold bastard, caring uncle, arrogant macho, dangerous predator, and now, concerned male—he was just too much to put into a box and whenever she thought she had finally discovered everything about him, another facet of him flashed up to startle her again.
The concern she’d felt from him in the clearing? It had been real. She was almost sure of it. So, how did that fit in with the coldblooded killer who had almost finished her off in the roadhouse without so much as blinking an eye? One moment he was barely controlled deadly fury, the next he teased the kids out of their dejection with jokes about jinxing and his mother.
It just seemed impossible that all of this was supposed to be one and the same man.
Under different circumstances, she might have been intrigued to find out what else there was to discover behind the blank wall of his golden face. She was a spider. And spiders liked to unravel things. But right now, she just felt heart-sore and exhausted and she really just hoped to survive long enough to find a way out of this mess she’d so unwillingly slipped into.
Alex leaned her forehead against the cool window frame and watched the shadows lengthening as the sun slowly dipped down toward the horizon, imbuing the western sky with bright, vivid pinks and reds. A hawk soared high above the trees, scanning the ground with its sharp predatory eyes, searching for careless prey.
With a sudden “tseeer” it swooped down, a golden arrow in front of the spectacular sunset sky, plummeting past a huge motorway sign. The letters had been partly crossed out with red graffiti spray, so that instead of “Highway to Holloway” it now read “Highway to Hell.”
How fitting, Alex through with a wry smile as they sped past it.
