Wicked Webs

by CoraLee June

  The room was stark and cold, with equipment lined against the walls and the tall ceilings that made me feel small. It was also separated by what looked like bullet-proof glass, and behind it, a group of six men sat at a long table, observing me like fish in a tank.

  I recognized one of them.

  Blond hair. Handsome, stern features. Polished suit and downturned lips. Blue eyes that matched my own.

  My father.

  He looked at me like I wasn’t even worth the glance.

  “Come forward, Miss Coven,” one of the other men ordered. He was older, sporting a lab coat. Salt and pepper hair filled his head, and a pair of thick spectacles were perched low on his nose as he read from a stack of papers on the desk.

  I reluctantly obeyed. My feet dragged with each step, but I moved closer to the men responsible for everything that had happened.

  “Get on with it,” my father said.

  The man nodded. “Case six-two-seven has been eating regularly and ingesting blood. We’ve upped her feeding by three hundred percent, but our nightly analysis shows that she is getting weaker. Our research and development team have even tried supplying her with our new trial of synthetic blood. It doesn’t appear to be making any difference. Her vampire side is nourished, but her demon side is…”

  “She’s dying?” someone else asked.

  My father stared pointedly at me. “Indeed. Look at her, she’s withering away. Starving.”

  “Yes,” the scientist replied. “We hypothesize that at the current rate she’s going, she’ll be dead within a week, possibly sooner.”

  My father wrinkled his nose, as if the news of my demise was distasteful. “Such a shame. Not that I’m surprised. She’s a bastard vampire from a weak mother, is she not?”

  Fury shook in my hands. How fucking dare he?

  I was about to open my mouth and spill the truth about exactly whose blood ran through my veins, but before I could, he stood up and grabbed his coat, placing it over his arm with dignified indignation before addressing his colleagues. “I have a meeting to attend. Let me know if she dies.”

  And then he was gone. Flashed away, just like that.

  No care or worry. No concern over his own flesh and blood. I was just as easily tossed away now as I’d been when I was an infant. Every time our lives intersected, it was always the same.

  If I weren’t so exhausted and drained, a glimmer of pain at his words would have bounced within my chest. But the hunger I so desperately despised was my savior.

  Fuck him. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of being hurt or disabused. I wanted him to be nothing to me, as much as I was nothing to him.

  So I took up all the shattered pieces of my pride and molded it together by focusing on my ravenous need.

  But now I knew a startling truth. My father, the great Rylon Stiles, was involved with Spector. He was now responsible for ruining my life twice.

  There was a time when I thought I needed to forgive my father for abandoning me and leaving me without a name or a purpose. Sometimes, the only way to move forward was to let go of the things that broke you down. I used to think that the only path to peace would involve forgetting the things my father had done. But I saw now, I would never matter to him, so why bother? I just got a tangible reminder of how deep his apathy for me went. Forgiveness and forgetfulness were for fools. Now, there was only revenge. Now, there was only my spider.

  “So what do you suggest?” the other man boredly asked, as if my survival was inconsequential to him.

  My spider hissed within me, breaking past my lips with venomous hatred. I brought my fingers up to my lips, surprised at the outburst when for so long she’d been silent.

  “We know that she’s a black widow demon based on the hourglass mark on her throat and the webs she’s made. We’re hypothesizing that her demonic nature may need to feed through living entities, rather than through blood bags.”

  “That’s the theory, anyway,” the man in the lab coat said.

  My hand flew up to my throat, and I tried to feel for the mark they claimed I had. I did remember feeling intense burning pain at the ritual, but I had brushed it off as being burned from some of the fire that was lobbed around the room. Taking advantage of the expensive metal machines in the room, I padded toward them, ignoring the men who droned on. I stopped in front of the shiny stainless steel and leaned in, catching my reflection.

  And...wow, okay. I didn’t look so hot.

  My usually vibrant red hair hung in dull, tangled knots. My skin was so pale I looked sickly, and I had dark circles under my eyes, and my cheeks looked hollowed. But right there, in the dead center of the front of my neck, was a small red mark of a perfectly shaped hourglass.

  So it was true. I really had become a black widow.

  I was brushing my finger against the spot when the doors behind me suddenly opened. I turned to see a human male being shoved inside. He was handsome, with short dark hair and crisp brown eyes, probably in his late twenties, and there were steel cuffs wrapped around his wrists. His body writhed as he fought and searched the room for an escape, shivering as beads of sweat dripped down his face. He lunged for the doorway, but he was too slow. The door clicked shut, locking him inside with me.

  My fangs dripped with venom at the sight of him while his fingers scrabbled along the cracks in the door, as if he could pry it back open. My spider rose to the surface, and I was helpless to stop the crashing vulturine appetite making every muscle in my body flex.

  “We think she is a higher level demon that requires a different approach to feeding. She has predator-like tendencies, according to our tests. Let’s observe if a live feed is what she requires,” I heard the scientist say, but his droning words seemed like whispers against the roaring of my soul. More lure power was growing out of me like nectar for the bees.

  The man finally turned to look, and when he saw that it was just me in the room with him, his panic faltered—but just for a moment. He may have seen a weak, small girl, but his intuition knew better. That was why, even as he stopped trying to get the door to open, his eyes were looking around wildly for another means to escape.

  My body moved toward him like I was sleepwalking. Each step closer, I could smell the fear rolling off of him in delicious waves of ecstasy. My spider was controlling my movements, her hunger roaring to the surface and pushing all other coherent thoughts out of my head.

  Need. Hungry. Must feed. Weak.

  I positioned my body in front of the man, my head tilting to the side in an animalistic move. My fangs gnawed on my lips, my blood coating my chapped lips.

  Whatever expression he saw on my face, it told him that he was right. He should fear me.

  “Don’t hurt me,” he begged.

  I lifted my hand to stroke his cheek, and he flinched but didn’t otherwise move. My webs came out, stringing across his jaw and lips as I trailed my fingers along.

  “Little fly, why do you cry?” a haunting voice asked from my chest, caressing his ears with the dark declaration of evil in my soul.

  “What’s wrong with you?” he asked, while looking over my shoulder to stare at our audience behind the glass. I didn’t like his attention on someone else, I wanted him wholly consumed with me.

  My hand gripped his scratchy cheeks, forcing his head forward. Mmm, very handsome for a human. “Look at me. See me. I’d like to drink from your lips.”

  He blinked, his brown eyes confused. “What? I—”

  The sensual power that my demon wielded suddenly burst from my body in an explosion of need. Pheromones pumped in the air, releasing a deadly lure that was too strong to resist. The man’s pupils suddenly dilated. His breath caught on a groan. His dick hardened in his pants.

  And just like that, I caught him.

  He relaxed at my touch as my power flooded his system. I reached for his shirt and slowly ripped it from his body before sinking to my knees to unbuckle his pants.

  Harsh breaths could be heard around t
he room, as well as the observing men murmuring about what I was doing. My humanity screamed that this was wrong. So, so, terribly, inconceivably wrong. But I couldn’t stop.

  “Wh-what are you—”

  “Stop talking,” I demanded before pulling out his hard length. I stroked it, licking my lips at the sight of precum coating his cock.

  His mouth slammed shut as he rolled his head back in ecstasy. My touch was lazy and lacked enthusiasm, but he behaved as if it was the best damn touch he’d ever felt.

  When his moan echoed off the walls of the large room, I stood up and shoved at his chest, knocking him down to the ground with a playful grin. It felt like I was toying with him, teasing him for our audience to rev them up for the real show. My skin was on fire, burning for a single touch as I slipped out of my hospital gown, leaving nothing but my bare body to the room.

  Everything was a mass of confusion and demonic hunger. It was clear that my spider was in total control.

  “Whoa,” he croaked, hands automatically coming up to knead my breasts. I positioned myself on top of his cock, sliding my slick folds along his hardness as I bent over to suck on his ear, earning another groan from him.

  That dark voice from my mouth returned with a vengeance. “You’re going to die, my prey. But it’s going to be such a sweet death.”

  With that serving as my warning, I sunk onto his length and simultaneously lashed out to sink my fangs deep into his neck. I fed like the dying woman I was—without shame, without remorse. I claimed my need to survive with a vengeance, while he moaned at the lusty vampiric venom flooding his system and lure power stunning his senses.

  “Yes,” my demon’s voice breathed.

  This. This was what we needed. This was what we’d been hungry for.

  I felt it as soon as he penetrated me—a sliver of a tether flaring from his soul. His thread shimmered with vitality, and I knew instinctively that it was his life’s essence. My spider lashed out, grabbing onto it, and then she tugged. And just like that, we began to feed.

  She pulled and pulled on that thread, sucking it like a straw as we drank from his soul. She consumed violently and without pause, demolishing the scrap of light in his eyes as she continued to ride him.

  My demon tugged on his existence, even while our audience watched, even while my humanity screamed against how wrong this was. Even as my heart broke into the realization of what I already knew.

  I was a monster. A deadly, carnal, wicked monster.

  While my demon fed from his essence, I fed from his neck. I drank until there was nothing left in his body, and I was just slurping on thinned veins and an empty heart. He didn’t even fight. The lure and venom I’d pumped into him was too strong.

  I knew the exact moment I’d drained him dry—both of blood and his essence. A new vivacity filled me up as she pulled out the last of his essence, and then the deadly spider sighed in pleasure.

  I pulled off his body, ruby blood coating my breasts as I hummed in satisfaction. My spider was still in control, because if it were me holding the reins to this train wreck, I would have been sobbing on the floor.

  When she looked up at the row of men watching behind the glass, she smiled, revealing her massive, sharp fangs.

  “Of course,” one of the men whispered in awe, like my display of raw, sexual power excited him. “She’s a black widow. Sexual cannibalism.”

  The other men watched me with new wariness blotting their features. “So what does she need?” another asked.

  I picked up the metal chains still wrapped around my prey’s wrists and crushed them in my fist, displaying a level of strength I’d never had before.

  “More,” my spider replied darkly. “I need more.”

  Chapter 5

  Every time I fed, I lost a little bit more of myself.

  My spider was ravenous. She claimed without remorse or shame.

  It was terrifying.

  Sex used to be an empowering act that I felt in control over. It didn’t matter who I was or where I’d come from, we were just fighting bodies looking to get off.

  But now it felt clinical. Crowds of Spector employees watched while delivering humans to me on a silver platter. There was nothing romantic or exciting about it. Data was collected and skewed. My body’s responses were noted. Each soul I fed from left me wanting more. My nature led to nonconsent. It was either me or them, and the darker side of my spider made me choose myself. I was helpless to stop her. I was helpless to stop Spector.

  I grew to hate the sound of their clapping at the subtle displays of strength my spider exhibited under their watchful eye. I could feel my body slowly grow more toned, more vibrant with life that didn’t belong to me. I felt invincible but destructive.

  As a female vampire, I’d always loved sex. When my dark thoughts drifted, I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d been possessed by the black widow demon because of that fact. Did she inhabit me because we both shared a propensity for carnal ecstasy? I didn’t know, but I hated it. I hated that sex couldn’t simply be fun anymore. It was a necessity to survive, and I’d been turned into a sexual cannibal who lured partners in so that I could drain them dry.

  “Get up,” my guard demanded as he opened the door to my cell.

  I was lazily lying on the concrete floor, fading in and out of control. It was a constant tug of war, the battle of our wills. I knew what she needed, and the taste of her sin was too delicious to resist. It filled me with shame.

  “I’ve already fed today,” I argued.

  Their demands were getting more brutal. The last several days, I’d been forced to feed from six humans. Their faces were a blur of necessity. I became accustomed to the act of carnal destruction, and it terrified me.

  Not one of the humans had survived.

  “Get up,” he ordered again, this time with more force.

  Webs spilled from my hands in angry tendrils as I stood. It was still a strange sensation, like water dripping from inside my fingertips. They extended in gossamer threads, the strands tugging from my skin and spooling out of me in directions I had total control of. Though they seemed soft and fragile, they were actually strong and easily manipulated. They felt like an extension of me, ready to do whatever I wanted them to.

  The guard grabbed my arm, like he did every time he came to collect me, but this time I jerked free, my new strength aiding in my efforts. His eyes widened in a flash of shock before twisting into anger.

  “Listen, bitch—” he growled, but I cut him off.

  “Unless you want me to feed from you the way I feed from those humans, then don’t touch me,” I threatened.

  It was immensely satisfying to see the pulse in his neck jump.

  “You’ll be punished if you step out of line,” he replied, his expression stormy. “You don’t get to make threats here.”

  I ignored his words. “Keep your fucking hands to yourself before I break them.”

  In response, he shoved me hard, making me fall to the floor on my hands and knees. Pain shot through me at the impact.

  “That’s where you belong,” he spat, looking down at me with disdain. “You’re just a Spector pet. A dog learning new tricks. You need to be trained how to behave.”

  Motherfucker.

  My anger snapped. I flashed back to my feet faster than he could track. He blinked in surprise at seeing me standing right in front of him again, but before he could move, I shoved him against the wall and shot webs from my fingers, covering his torso and sticking him into place.

  “What the—?”

  He tried to jerk away, but my strings were too strong, the sticky threads trapping him against the wall.

  My lips spread with a smirk. “Look. I learned a new trick.”

  My spider was taunting him, while I was begging from the sidelines for her to behave. I wasn’t sure what Spector was willing to do for obedience, but I didn’t want to find out.

  Despite how hard he tried to get away, the webs cemented him to the wall, holding him
there. I smiled in amusement until flames erupted from his skin. An elemental? I rolled my eyes. It was almost too easy.

  My webs moved to wrap around his neck, squeezing until the veins in his head popped. I could see his fear as I tried to direct his flames to the trap snaring him and cutting off his oxygen supply. He didn’t attack me directly, though, which told me he wasn’t allowed to.

  I leaned in closer until my lips were at his ears. “I think you realize who’s stronger now, don’t you?” I asked as his face began to grow purple. “And it’s obvious that the only obedient Spector dog here is you. So keep your hands to yourself.”

  He nodded slowly, as if submitting was hurting his male ego. I immediately retracted my webs in a single flourish. They snapped back toward my palms like a rubber band being released. The guard fell on his knees to the floor, coughing and taking in rugged breaths.

  “Good boy,” I said with a shit-eating smirk.

  I chuckled darkly and turned, making my way down the hallway without waiting. I’d been shoved through this maze of a building so many times that I knew how to get to the rooms they brought me to, I just didn’t know which way led out.

  I heard him scramble to his feet and rush forward to catch up to me, but when I stopped at the doors leading to the lab room, he cut me off. When he automatically moved to grab me, he blanched before dropping his hand again. Smart man.

  “Not today,” he said with a shake of his head. “You get to interact with the other hybrids. You’re permitted to eat in the cafeteria today,” he said, while leading me down the corridor.

  He took a couple turns, and then I was being led through a set of sliding glass doors I’d never been to before.

  “Eating what?” I asked warily.

  “Just blood and food. You’re not allowed to fuck anyone outside of the lab,” he clarified. “Especially not the demon-hybrids. They’re far too valuable.”