by Sharon Joss
Abe eyed the creature in the bottle. “Dream spiders are all male. Adults can affect a human-looking male glamour. They have scent glands on their legs here.” He showed me a pale spot near the tip of each of the creature’s legs. Once they mark a victim with their scent, they hunt them through their dreams at night and feed. Once bitten, their poison immobilizes their victims and liquefies their inner organs. They feed like all spiders do, by sucking out their victims juices, leaving only an empty shell behind.”
As soon as he said the words, I remembered Luçien’s long brown fangs and the way the silk oozed from his palms. Abe was right. My mouth went dry. “That’s it then. That’s what happened to the dhampirs and Mel.” And very nearly me as well. “It doesn’t matter now though, he’s gone.”
Abe stared at me as if I’d just struck him. “Gone? What do you mean, gone?”
“I mean dead.”
He shook his head. “Dead how? According to the fellow I got this one from, once they’ve had their first feed after hatching, these things are near-impossible to kill.”
“Well, piranhas do a pretty good job. Luçien Bold is never going bite anyone again. His dream-striding days are over.”
Abe put down the specimen and stared into my eyes, gripping me by both wrists. “Tell me true, Mattie girl. Did he come into your dreams?”
I nodded. “More like nightmares.” I didn’t mention the sex part.
“They mate with human women. Did he--?”
“What?” I wrested out of his grip, wiping imaginary webs off my body. “No! He-I, hell no! He tried, but I dumped him in the tank. Oh god—at least I’m pretty sure.” I shook my head. “No. I know he didn’t. He never got the chance.” I held my hand over my mouth. People were staring at us. Get a grip, Mattie.
Abe nodded gravely. “Good. When he mates, he injects a small amount of his venom into her, and continues to mate and envenomate her repeatedly. The woman begins to take on the characteristics of a female spider. The Tarantella is extremely aggressive, clever, and dangerous. She must feed frequently while the eggs grow inside her. As the eggs mature, she spins a silken lair, choosing a site that will provide plenty of food for her hungry babies when they hatch. Once all her eggs have been laid, she seals the egg sac and stays nearby, guarding them and feeding off the local population as she grows ever larger. The male also stays nearby until the eggs begin to hatch. He’s her final meal. The hatchlings are ravenous, and are known to consume entire villages before they disburse and wander off. The only way to stop them is to destroy the Tarantella and her nest before it hatches. ”
That could have been me. “That’s disgusting.” My voice cracked. Or Felicity. My heart skipped beat. What if it was already too late?
The more I thought about it, the more certain I became. “Oh shit. The nest. It’s in the ballroom.”
I pulled out my phone and handed it to Abe. “Call 911,” I said as I raced out of the tent. “Tell them there’s been another murder—no, wait.” I stopped in my tracks. The park was full of people. Another dead body wouldn’t clear the park. Only one thing could do that. “Tell them it’s a fire!”
CHAPTER 22
I raced toward the Grand Ballroom in the center of the park, dodging families with strollers, packs of teens, preoccupied lovers strolling hand-in-hand and the park’s own mascots and visitors in bulky costumes. My eyes scanned the crowd, searching for a security guard. Heavenly Shores was an outdoor venue; I couldn’t remember ever seeing any fire alarms, although there were loudspeakers mounted throughout the park.
I spied Charlie Crimmer having a smoke near the Tilt-a-Whirl and ran over to him. “I’m looking for Felicity Caprice. Have you seen her?”
He frowned, his craggy eyebrows knitting together across his brow. “You mean the decorator lady?” His leathery skin crinkled with his smile of recognition. “She’s got a whole group of them whatcha call spirit princesses decorating over at the ballroom. Mighty pretty girls, too.”
“Come on. We’ve got to get them out of there.”
He must’ve heard the tension in my voice, because the old guy had me running to keep up with him, and the mere fact that he was in uniform seemed to clear a path through the crowd.
We reached the ballroom and I tried the door. “It’s locked.”
“Hold yer horses,” he panted, as he fumbled with his keys. “It’s only locked from the outside to keep the curious out. What’s the problem?”
I pounded on the door, but no one answered. “Something’s happened to them, I know it.” I briefly explained that there was a nest of poisonous spiders in the building, and that the call to 911 had already been made.”
“Got it,” he held up the key and inserted it into the lock. Anxiously, I pulled the door open and paused in the doorway, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the gloom. “Oh!”
Silver banners hung from the twenty-foot black ceiling, twisted and gathered onto huge silver knots the looked like clouds in a night sky. The walls had been painted with a day-glow mural of planets and asteroids which seemed to stretch endlessly into space. In the center of the room a mirrored disco ball hung, reflecting the tiny blue lights strung across the ceiling, giving the room and out-of-this-world kind of glow.
“Purty, isn’t it?” Charlie grinned in appreciation. “They been workin’ on it for days.”
“Yeah, it’s gorgeous,” I said, and I wasn’t kidding. “But where is everybody?”
He stepped inside and I was right behind him. The door slammed shut behind us and the room darkened, lit only by the tiny blue lights overhead.
“Hello?” I shouted. “Anybody here?”
Charlie found the wall switch and flicked the lights. Nothing happened. “Must be a blown fuse.” He shook his head. “Park security here! We’re clearing the building. Now.”
Nothing stirred.
“Mebbe they left.”
I pointed to a pile of purses stacked up on one of the folding tables. “I don’t think so. Those girls wouldn’t leave without their purses. I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”
Charlie reached for the flashlight at his belt and turned it on. “Gimme a minute to reset that fuse box. Be right back.”
He crossed the room to a door leading to the stairwell and I heard him descend the stairs. The ballroom itself wasn’t completely dark. The room was gloomy, but still enough light from the little lights to see. I flipped the switches again, but still got nothing.
An anxious feeling settled over me. Time was ticking away, and the urge to do something rather than just stand there and wait for Charlie to turn on the lights seemed pretty cowardly.
I crossed the ballroom to the stage where the band had set up their equipment. It was darker here, and I couldn’t see much. I found another light switch and flipped it up, but still nothing. Charlie should have found the fuse box by now.
“Charlie?” My voice seemed somehow muted by all the streamers and decoration. Maybe that was the problem. He probably couldn’t hear me. I crossed the room and opened the door to the stairwell. It was black as ink in there.
“Charlie, answer me,” I commanded. Goosebumps prickled along my arms. Charlie was one of mine, er, Morta’s. If he could, he would have answered.
I tried the light switch just inside the stairwell and brilliant light flooded the space.
“Thanks,” I shouted. My relief lasted only until I spied Charlie’s silver cigarette lighter lying on the stairs leading to the second floor attic.
The metal was still warm.
Charlie! I raced up the first two flights without hesitation. Halfway up the third flight, the stairs and railing were covered with thin strands of spider web. The runes on my palms began to glow. I flexed my left hand, and the heft of the ancient shears felt reassuring. I set my jaw and scrambled up the last flight, leaving tatters of broken silk in my wake.
The stairs emerged directly in the attic—a room made nearly featureless by being completely covered in silver-grey webbing. Hanging from the raf
ters in the center of the room by wrist-thick silken cables, a lumpy, purse-like sack was suspended two feet above the floor. There was movement within the sack. Bulges rose and fell along its sides and bottom.
If the eggs hadn’t hatched yet, they looked like they would any day.
More silk-covered lumps lay on the ground beneath the egg case. I spotted a clump of turquoise hair and my worst fears were realized. I was too late. I cut away some of the webbing, expecting to find another leathery corpse, but it was Megan, the Spirit Princess from the float. Unconscious, but her lifeline glowed feebly and I felt a faint pulse. Alive! I tried to lift her, but she was dead weight—too heavy for me to pick up and carry. I had to get them all out—even if I had to drag them down four flights of stairs.
I jumped at the sudden sound of pounding on the ballroom door below me. I recognized Henri and Juno’s voices calling my name. Thank goodness. They could help me get the kids out.
“Coming,” I shouted, and turned toward the stairs.
And screamed. Standing between me and the stairs was a huge, hairy spider-thing as big as a Harley Davidson motorcycle.
And it had Felicity Caprice’s face.
CHAPTER 23
“Where’s Luçien,” she demanded. Her whole body, except for her face had been transformed into the Tarantella form Abe had described, only she was much, much bigger. Her speech, although somewhat hampered by the three-inch brown fangs, was full of malice.
I took a step back and she moved with uncanny speed to put herself between me and her egg sack. When she reared up on her rear legs, her face was level with mine. Big fucking spider.
“What have you done with him?” Every word she spoke sent a fine spray of brown venom droplets into the air between us.
“He’s dead.”
Long black hairs, which might once have been eyebrows, bristled along her forehead. “I don’t believe you.”
“What’s left of him is lying at the bottom of Mel’s piranha tank.”
She bared her fangs at me. “I was saving him for last. He was only good for one thing anyway, and I don’t need him for that anymore. When, the ballroom doors are sealed Saturday night, my hatchlings will have more than enough for a feast.”
I heard the sound of breaking class from downstairs.
I gripped the shears tightly in one hand and reached for Megan’s silk-wrapped body. “That’s never going to happen.”
“We’ll see about that.” With a quick movement, she tossed a thick stream of silk over my head. It settled on my shoulders and instantly began to harden.
I cut the thread with my shears, but she kept tossing more and more sticky threads, faster than I could cut through them. She pulled the rope-like threads toward her, and I was forced to move with them or be pulled off my feet. Frantically I sliced away at the silk, but it was a losing battle. She was too quick.
I held my hand up, palm outward, the runes glowing with an eerie yellow light. “Stop! I am the Hand of Fate. I command you stop what you’re doing this instant!”
I’m no demon,” she hissed. She stopped tugging on the threads for a moment. “You have no power over me, witch. I’ve fed only on half-blooded vampires. I’ve broken no human laws. My children and I will live for centuries.”
I shivered at the thought. I could hear people downstairs. I wanted to shout and tell them where I was, but I had a hunch that I’d never get the words out. I had to keep her talking. “What about Mel?”
She began crawling backwards toward her nest, dragging me with her. “He stopped into the shop. He had a picnic basket with him. I actually think he wanted to surprise me and take me to the parade. Instead, he walked in on Luçien and me…It was kind of a shame, really. Did you know he recommended me to the Spirit Festival Committee? And when those dhampirs came in for their fittings, well, I didn’t even have to leave the shop. And pregnancy makes one so very hungry, you know.”
I ran at her, the shears upraised, but she was so fast. She scrambled up the webbing, using the hooks at the tips of her legs to grip the silk, all the while using two of her middle legs to throw more sticky silken ropes at me. She managed to cover my scissor hand faster than I could cut the strands away.
I heard pounding footsteps on the stairs. “Up here!”
She was above me now, perched atop the egg case, pulling my scissor hand above my head. I turned my wrist and started beating my arms against the egg sac.
I could feel agitated movements within the nest.
She gave a little shriek and redoubled her efforts, dragging me up with her. I felt a sudden stabbing pain in my hand.
She’d bitten me.
CHAPTER 24
I screamed as the pains shot up my arm, leaving ice-cold numbness in its wake. I imagined the toxins at work, dissolving my flesh from the inside. I didn’t know how long I had before the poison incapacitated me. Whatever I was going to do, I had to act fast.
My scissor hand was useless. She’d secured it to the side of the nest. I had no gun, no weapon. I patted the pockets of the chef’s pants I was wearing and felt something.
Charlie Crimmer’s Zippo lighter.
One handed, I flicked open the lid and thumbed the flint wheel. I held the beautiful golden flame aloft, where she couldn’t help but see it.
She froze, hissing sputtering dark venom, “Put it out, put it out!”
I moved the flame to within inches of the egg case. “Cut me loose, bitch.”
All the bristles on her body stood up in agitation. She looked truly ghastly, but made no move to cut me loose. Only the gentle stroking of one of her legs along one side of the egg case showed me how very distressed she was.
I heard the guys come pounding up the last flight of steps. “Stop,” I shouted. I didn’t want to be distracted. I could hear them, breathing hard, somewhere behind me, but she was so fast. I didn’t even dare look and see who it was.
“Here’s the deal, Felicity.” I fought to keep my voice firm. “The guys here are going to remove all the bodies lying on the floor and take them outside. You make a move, I’ll set the nest on fire.” Without taking my eyes off her, I spoke to Henri and whoever else stood with him at the top of the stirs. “They’ve all been poisoned, but they’re not dead yet. Go go go.”
I didn’t dare shift my gaze off her for a minute. She hissed and gnashed her deadly fangs, but I could hear the guys removing the bodies the floor behind me.
She narrowed her eyes at me--all eight of them. Her face was beginning to change, too. “It’s too late. You can’t stop it now.”
My scissor hand and arm had gone completely numb. The stinging burn of poison was creeping across my shoulders. In my other hand, the lighter was growing hotter every second.
I felt a firm hand on my back and a low voice in my ear. “Everyone is safe.” It was Roper. “It’s your turn, Mattie. Let us take it from here.”
“I can’t. She’s got my hand sown to the nest.” My lips trembled. “Get out, Roper.”
At that moment, a pair of hairy, hook-tipped spider legs perforated the grey silk wall of the nest, followed by a bearded face with four pair of black eyes.
“Oh shit.”
CHAPTER 25
Everything happened at once. Roper wrapped his arm around my waist and gave a tremendous yank. My hand pulled free, taking a big swatch of the nest with it. A writhing clump of hatchling spiders, as big as volleyballs tumbled out onto the silken floor below. Felicity darted forward, fangs bared.
I dropped the lighter.
With a whoosh, the silken threads ignited and the room erupted in flames. I fell backwards on top of Roper, and he dragged me to the stairwell with him. Together, we half-fell, half slid to the lower landing, where I smacked my head into the wall. I lay there, too dazed to move. My arm was useless. It no longer felt like it belonged to me. The silk wrapped around my scissor hand was on fire. Using my other hand, I pulled it to my chest instinctively, trying to smother the flames against my shirt. I heard Roper curse, then he
threw his jacket over my head and hauled me over his shoulder and raced down the stairs and outside.
I hit the ground hard, the wind knocked out of me. People were screaming. Hitting me, kicking me—there was nothing I could do. I curled into a little ball.
The last thing I heard was Roper saying, “Let her burn.”
CHAPTER 26
“There she is, she’s coming out of it,” a familiar voice said.
“Wake up, Mattie,” Henri said.
I opened my eyes. I was sitting on the wet grass of the amusement park, leaning up against the wheel of an ambulance. Henri and Juno were kneeling on one side of me, while on the other, a woman I didn’t know pulled a needle out of my arm, swabbed the injection site with a cotton ball, and wrapped it in place with a strip of hot-pink tape. Next to her, I recognized the handsome local veterinarian Dr. Jensen.
“Thank you, Dr. Ibarra,” he said. “Mattie here is the last of them.” He turned and winked at me, his eyes blue enough to set any girl’s heart aflutter. “Actually, you were already coming around when Dr. Ibarra here administered the antivenin. How you feeling?”
Experimentally, I shrugged my shoulders and looked down at my hands. Thanks to Morta’s healing powers, I felt no pain. My skin looked unblemished except for a black stain covering my scissor-hand, running halfway to the elbow. The runes on my palm glowed faintly, letting me know the shears of fate were still there, and always would be. “Okay I guess.”
“The discoloration is caused by venom and should fade in time,” Dr. Ibarra said. “You’re lucky. That chef’s coat is made of flame retardant material.” She smiled and I swear she batted her long dark lashes at Jensen as she shook her head. “It’s amazing how fast this stuff works. Thank goodness you had enough spider antivenin on hand, Adam.”
“The zoo has a venomous spider exhibit. I had no idea the funnel spider antivenin would be so effective.”