The Spider Queen

by Emma Slate

  “You too,” I said. I felt a spurt of…what? I wasn’t sure. Guys had paid attention to me in the past, but most of them were…not at all like Hunter. They were into science and easily dissuaded. They never felt like a threat to my way of life. Hunter was athletic, beautiful, and intelligent. And he scared the crap out of me.

  We continued past Kim out onto the balcony, but Hunter didn’t stop there. He kept walking until we got to the stairs. The moment my feet touched the sidewalk, my head cleared, the sounds of the party already muted.

  “Wanna go for a walk?” he asked. He let go of my hand and dumped out the rest of his beer before chucking the red cup into a trash bin.

  “Sure you want to leave your party?”

  “Yeah. Wasn’t any fun until you showed up. Come on, I want to show you something I think you’d like.”

  Chapter 4

  “Should I be worried?” I asked in mock fear.

  “Nope. Besides, don’t you want to walk with a handsome, pre-med student under the light of the full moon?”

  I laughed. “It won’t be a full moon for a few days. And you’re not that handsome.”

  “Yes, I am.” He took my hand again, causing me to jerk back. “Why are you so jumpy?”

  “I don’t know you,” I replied.

  “Sorry.”

  I let out a breath of air. “It’s—well. Not fine. I’m not used to it, okay?”

  “Okay.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Listen, I know I come on strong, but I really don’t mean anything by it. If you don’t want to go with me—”

  “I do,” I interjected. “I just—I’m not good at this.”

  “I think you’re doing okay.”

  “Yeah?”

  He nodded. “You’re letting me know what works for you. I like that about you, Spider Girl.”

  I looked at him, weighing his words. They rang sincere. “Let me text Anita, okay? So she doesn’t worry.” I reached into my back pocket and got out my phone. I sent her a quick text, got her reply of a thumbs-up emoji, and then put my phone away. “Where’s this place you’re taking me?” I wondered aloud as we walked side by side, away from his house and the party. Though I’d just met him, he didn’t scream serial killer. Then again, that was how they lured innocent victims. I really should’ve remembered to buy pepper spray.

  “We’re going to a junk shop,” he said.

  “A what?”

  “A junk shop. It’s in the Market area.”

  “What kind of junk shop is open at ten at night?”

  “The coolest kind,” he assured me. “So, where are you from?”

  “Really? You’re going to ask me something that generic?”

  “You’re right. That was a bad use of my twenty questions. Okay, tell me the food you hate the most. And it’s not allowed to be Brussels sprouts. Everyone hates Brussels sprouts.”

  “I don’t,” I protested.

  He smirked. “Of course you like Brussels sprouts.”

  “If you douse them in butter and cheese, how can they be bad?”

  “Fair point.”

  “I hate mussels.”

  “Mussels.”

  “They’re chewy.” I wrinkled my nose.

  “I’ll give you that.”

  “Now you.”

  “I don’t hate anything.”

  “Not possible. You have to hate something.”

  “Why?”

  “Why?” I repeated. “Because those are the rules.”

  He laughed. “Fine. I hate spaghetti with tomato sauce.”

  “You’re not allowed to be crazy,” I teased. “Spaghetti with tomato sauce? What’s wrong with you?”

  “I always get it on my shirt. I’m clumsy.”

  “Yeah, right. I don’t buy that.”

  “It’s true. I’m so clumsy that my teammates call me Klutzo.”

  We arrived at the Market area, and I registered that we took no time to get there. Hunter was easy to talk to—he put me at ease. He stopped walking and gestured to a dark storefront.

  “You sure it’s open?” I asked, trying to peer into the window. “I can’t see any lights on in there.”

  “Oh, it’s open. Trust me.” He rapped on the door three times. There was the sound of wood scraping, and then a pair of eyes appeared through a slit in the door.

  “Password,” Hunter said.

  “Wow, how do people ever remember that?” I joked.

  “It’s really just a formality.”

  The lock turned and then the door opened. A gargantuan man stepped back to let us in. I followed Hunter, expecting to see a junk store stuffed to the max with odds and ends, not a bar that resembled a speakeasy.

  Lighting was dim and sensual, the furniture leather and oak. The age group was fifteen years older than the average college student, and I wondered how Hunter knew about this place.

  I looked at him. He was grinning like he’d been waiting forever to use this well-kept secret, hoping to impress a girl.

  It was working.

  “This is really cool,” I said, “but I was expecting a junk shop.”

  “In the back,” he said, gesturing to another door.

  “How did you find out about this place?”

  “A friend of a friend of a friend.”

  “Oh, sure.”

  “So, you want a drink or—”

  I dragged him toward the door separating the bar and the junk shop. “After. I want to look around.”

  The junk shop was just as I’d hoped it’d be. Wall to wall bric-à-brac. Everything from musical instruments to shrunken heads in jars.

  “This place is awesome!” I breathed, taking my time, my fingers trailing along the shelves. “I’ve lived in Charleston three years. How did I never know about this place?”

  “Secret,” he replied, leaning against the closed door, arms crossed over his chest.

  “What do you do if you find something you want to buy?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  I moved deeper into the room and looked at him over my shoulder. “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve never seen anything I wanted to buy. I assume you take it to the bartender and he’ll ring you up. But come on, you don’t come to a place like this and expect to find anything you actually want to buy. It’s all about the hunt.”

  “All about the hunt,” I repeated. “You are such a guy.”

  “Loaded statement much?” he asked on a laugh.

  “Caught that, huh?”

  He stared at me, blue eyes open and friendly. “I pay attention.”

  I turned my gaze back to all the marvelous things I’d never know what to do with. “You’re right. You’d never buy this stuff. Where would you put it?”

  “Exactly. You’d have to become a full-time hoarder just to do it all justice. And take your time, there’s no hurry.”

  I spent the better part of an hour combing through the shelves. Most people might’ve hurried through the space, but I treated it like a museum. Hunter and I were silent most of the time unless one of us discovered something so weird we had to show the other.

  Hunter was the one who found the spider.

  It was in a glass cube, and it was bigger than a tarantula but wasn’t at all stocky. The spider was almost translucent. Positioned on its back, its thin legs were wrapped around an oval, ebony stone.

  “I’ve never seen anything like this.” I breathed in rapture and excitement. “Have you?”

  “Nope,” Hunter drawled. “Definitely on the list of the weirdest things I’ve ever seen.”

  “It almost looks like it’s been stuffed, you know? Like spider taxidermy.”

  “You’re right.” Hunter’s face came close to mine as we peered into the glass.

  “I have to have this.” I couldn’t wait to get home and research what kind of spider it might be.

  I picked up the glass cube and walked out into the bar. Setting it in front of the bartender, I waited for the skinny guy wearing a gray vest and red bo
wtie to notice me.

  “Found yourself a treasure, huh?” he asked with a grin. “What is it?”

  I held it up to show him.

  He jumped back out of irrational fear. “Put that thing away! You’ll scare customers.”

  “How much?” I asked, removing the cube from his sight.

  “No charge,” he clipped. “Just get it out of here.”

  I smiled. “Thanks!” I didn’t care that most of the world didn’t share my enthusiasm for the misunderstood species.

  “So explain it,” Hunter said when we were out of the bar and onto the sidewalk.

  “Explain what?”

  “The fascination with spiders.”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. It was just always there.”

  We stood on the sidewalk, neither one of us ready to say goodbye but not knowing how to prolong the evening. Though I wanted to get home, I wasn’t sure I was ready to leave Hunter.

  Hunter stuffed his hands in his jean pockets. “Should I walk you home?”

  “It is getting late,” I admitted.

  He smiled in understanding. “And you want to research the hell out of your new find.”

  “You’re not offended?” I asked.

  “Nah. I’m the same way when I find something I’m into. Can’t think about anything else.”

  The way he looked at me had me suppressing a shiver.

  “I’ll carry it for you, if you’d like,” he offered.

  For some reason, I was strangely protective of the nearly translucent spider and clutched it tighter. “That’s okay.”

  “Can I hold your hand?” he asked.

  I smiled and held out my free hand to him. We meandered through the downtown streets watching college students spill onto the sidewalk, drunk and happy as they caroused the night away. I was so different from them—I didn’t envy them, or wish to join in. I was happy with myself and the way my life was going.

  We turned off the main drag, the noises of people enjoying the city quieting as we ambled. It was almost silent by the time we got to my street.

  “Thanks for a really good night,” I said to Hunter when we were standing on my steps.

  The porch light was on, giving off a faint glow and bathing Hunter’s face in softness and shadows.

  “Ditto,” he said. His hands reached out to cup my face. He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to my lips and then pulled back to smile at me. “Sleep well.”

  Chapter 5

  Anita wasn’t home yet which meant I had privacy to study my spider in a cube. And ponder that Hunter No Last Name had kissed me.

  It had been nice. Sweet. Tender. Filled with promise.

  And it hadn’t freaked me out or made me want to hide. It had intrigued me, making me wonder what would’ve happened if he’d given me the time to kiss him back.

  The cube drew my gaze and I quit thinking of Hunter. What type of spider was this? I’d never seen anything like it. I opened my laptop and got to work.

  A while later, my eyes burned from staring at the screen and I had yet to find any leads. Sure, there were translucent spiders, but none of the images I’d found resembled the one in the cube.

  I sighed in frustration. I would need the help of more educated people. Tomorrow, I’d reach out to those who might be able to identify the translucent spider.

  Glancing at the microwave clock told me it was already past two in the morning. I’d been sitting in front of my computer for hours. Standing up, I groaned, my body tight and fatigued. I took the spider in the glass cube with me to my bedroom. If Anita came home and found it on the kitchen table, a girly shriek would rouse me from a sound sleep. Not that I’d blame her. I understood people’s fears when it came to arachnids. Still, I wished for them to understand.

  I flipped on my bedroom light and set the cube on my dresser. I’d kicked off my flats hours ago, but in my haste to begin researching I’d stayed in my tight jeans. After washing my face and changing into pajamas, I shut off the light and tucked myself into bed. The glow of the almost full moon filtered through the blinds, illuminating the glass cube, bathing the translucent spider in an ethereal glimmer.

  Sighing, I rolled over and fell asleep.

  I dreamed of dewy spider webs and a dark-haired man. His obsidian black eyes raked me with their carnality. He held out his hand and my dream-self moved toward him as if drawn by a magnet. When he touched me, I felt my skin vibrate. His fingers dragged down my body, heightening my senses, making desire pulse through my blood. His lips grazed mine and then moved to my neck. He kissed me until I nearly fell over, dizzy with passion. He lifted me into his arms and carried me to a bed with an ornate black bedframe. The man teased my body until I opened my legs and welcomed him inside me.

  I woke up drenched in sweat and shivering. It was one of those vivid dreams that felt real, and I awakened confused and bereft. My hand went to my heart as it galloped and thundered like it wanted to leap out of my chest and return to my dream, return to the dark-haired man.

  The alarm clock on my bedside table read ten thirty and shafts of morning light peeked through the blinds. I hadn’t heard Anita come in, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t. My cell phone vibrated letting me know I had a text. It was from a number I didn’t recognize but made me smile the moment I realized who it was from.

  I asked your cousin for your number. She’s still here, btw.

  My fingers flew across the keyboard. Is it awkward?

  You’re awake. Did my text wake you up?

  Nope, I replied.

  There were the three ellipses showing me he was writing a reply. Then they disappeared. While I waited for his answer, I got up and put on my glasses. Everything came into focus, including the glass cube. I went over to it and bent down so I was eye-level with the spider. I frowned. It looked different this morning. A little less opaque and more…solid.

  Coffee. I needed coffee.

  My phone buzzed, and I glanced at it. I brought you a breakfast sandwich.

  You’re here? I texted back.

  Porch.

  Throwing my hair into a messy bun, I padded my way to the front door. I peered through the peephole to see Hunter holding a paper bag and a travel coffee carrier with two coffees.

  I opened the door and leaned against the doorframe, crossing my arms over my chest. His smile was bright, his blond hair tousled from the slight winter breeze. Hunter’s gaze dropped down my body and he shook his head.

  “What?” I demanded.

  “You look like this first thing in the morning?”

  I glanced down at myself. “Yeah. Am I a wreck?”

  “Nope.”

  I smiled.

  “You gonna let me in?” he asked.

  “Depends.”

  “On?”

  “What kind of sandwich did you bring me?”

  He grinned. “Egg and cheese on a croissant.”

  “No bacon?”

  His smile slipped. “I didn’t know if you ate meat.”

  I laughed. “I’m just teasing.” Pushing away from the doorframe, I gestured for him to come inside. “Thank you for bringing me breakfast. Though for the record, I love bacon.”

  “I’ll know for next time.”

  A thrill of pleasure skittered down my spine when I thought of this happening again. I went to the cupboard and grabbed us plates. Hunter unpacked the bag and set a to-go cup of coffee at a place setting.

  “I didn’t know how you took your coffee, but I brought you sugar in the raw. Couldn’t grab milk.”

  “I have cream.” I went to the fridge, pulled it out, and held it up to him. He shook his head and took a sip of his black coffee. I doctored mine until it was mostly cream and sugar. “That’s good.”

  “How would you know?” he said with a laugh. “That’s not even coffee anymore.”

  “Coffee is a vehicle for the fat and the sugar.”

  He shook his head in amusement. “There’s a café on the corner of my block. I got it from there.”
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  “That place does it right,” I replied.

  We sat down and didn’t talk again until our sandwiches had disappeared. I wiped my mouth with a napkin and took a sip of my coffee. “So, that was a pretty bold gesture…you just showing up on my porch.”

  “But I brought food and drink,” he reminded me with a grin. “I’m courting you.”

  “Courting?” I snorted. “We’re in the South. Not the South in the 1800s. And usually there’s a waiting period. We met yesterday afternoon, you took me to a weird bar slash junk shop last night, kissed me goodnight, and then brought me breakfast this morning.”

  “I don’t believe in waiting periods.”

  I raised an eyebrow, causing him to laugh.

  “I had fun yesterday. I wanted you to know that,” he said.

  “So, you’re being completely transparent.”

  “Yep.”

  “No games. No gimmicks.”

  “That’s right. Just good old fashioned courting.”

  “Huh,” I said, taking another sip of my coffee.

  “What?”

  “I think I could be into the courting thing. Do you have a last name?”

  “Jones.”

  “Hunter Jones. I like it.”

  “Now you,” he said.

  “Poppy Sinclair.”

  He grinned. “I like yours, too.”

  “Good, now that that’s out of the way, you want to tell me how you got my phone number from Anita? Wasn’t she—occupied?”

  “Nah, she was cuddled up on the couch with my roommate.”

  “That’s sort of cute,” I said with a smile.

  “She was wearing his shirt and sweats.”

  Good for Anita. She’d met Jonah, he’d lived up to the hype in her head, and now she was spending the morning with him.

  “So, were you able to fall asleep after our good-night kiss?”

  “Fishing for compliments?”

  “How was my technique?”

  I pretended to think. “Well, I just don’t know…it was over rather quickly. Hard to judge technique.”

  His mouth dropped open. “Excuse me?”

  “Yeah, I mean, I’m sure it would’ve been great, but you didn’t give me a chance to get into it.”