The Spider Queen

by Emma Slate

  One hipster even called out, “Love your boots!”

  Guess I was doing one thing right.

  When I arrived at the door to my snow globe shop, I stood in front of it for a moment. The gate was down and it was locked up. I had rent on auto-pay for the apartment and the shop. Same with utilities. It was nice not to have to worry about stuff like that.

  I now just had to figure out how I was going to get into the building. My keys were gone. There was a spare set to the actual shop in my nightstand drawer, but that didn’t eliminate the problem of getting into the actual apartment. There was a fire escape in the alley I could climb up. Break a window. Get in that way.

  “You look lost,” someone said.

  I breathed a sigh of relief and turned. Herron stood next to me, dressed smartly in skinny jeans, boots, and a slouchy sweater.

  “I feel lost,” I admitted. Though time with my parents catching up had been wonderful, I’d quickly realized that it was impossible to figure out my life while I lived in their home. In their home, I was their daughter. But here, in New York, I had the space to figure out who I wanted to be. Lucifer’s consort? Herron’s best friend? I needed to know.

  My parents, amazing people that they were, completely supported my decision—as long as I came back for a visit now and again. As if I was going to miss the birth of my sibling.

  “Nice outfit,” she said with a smirk.

  I shrugged.

  “Why are you standing out here like you don’t know how you got here?”

  “I don’t know what happened to my keys,” I admitted.

  “Good thing I have mine.” She held up her key ring. In the other hand was a vanilla latte.

  “Can I have that?” I pointed to her to-go coffee cup.

  “You disappear for three months, and the first thing you demand is my latte?”

  I nodded.

  Without hesitating, she handed it over. I took a sip of the perfect blend of milk, foam, and espresso as Herron unlocked the front door. I followed her up the stairs to my apartment, which she also unlocked.

  Everything looked the same. Small one bedroom with enough light not to make it super depressing, but I saw it with fresh eyes. It had been a place to sleep. Nothing more. It wasn’t a home. There weren’t even any plants to liven it up. I closed the front door and locked it.

  “So,” she began, “you want to tell me what the fuck happened to you?”

  “What do you think happened to me?” I hedged.

  “I got a text that said you’d met someone and had taken off for a trip around the world. And that you’d check in from time to time, but were going to try and unplug.”

  “That bastard,” I said automatically.

  Her eyes narrowed. “That bastard who?”

  “Were you worried?” I asked, dodging her question for the moment.

  “Damn right I was worried.” She took a seat on the couch, her leather bag next to her. She reached into the outer pocket and pulled out her phone. She pressed a few buttons and then handed it to me. “Scroll through those photos.”

  So I did, my eyes widening. There were dozens of pictures of me at different famous monuments. Eiffel Tower. Colosseum. The Great Wall.

  I handed the phone back to her and then took a seat in the chair. “I’m hungry. Are you hungry?”

  She blinked. “I could eat.”

  “Chinese?”

  “Okay.” She looked confused and bereft—equal parts angry and glad to see me.

  “I don’t have a phone. Can you throw in our order?”

  “Let me guess, you’re missing your wallet too?”

  “Yes.”

  “What the hell happened—”

  “I’ll explain over wontons,” I promised, wondering how I was going to tell my best friend—my human best friend—that I’d fallen for the Prince of Darkness. How I’d been bound to him. Won my freedom. Fought a Cyclops.

  You know, the norm.

  “It’s odd timing,” I said once she put the phone away.

  “What is?”

  “You were coming to the shop just as I arrived.”

  “I come to the shop every day to make sure it’s all still standing. And tend to the business mail. But the doors have been closed for a while.” She leaned forward, placing her elbows on her knees.

  “I’m dying here, Stella,” she said in exasperation. “I don’t understand what happened. I knew you wanted to travel, but it came out of nowhere and you just—you left without saying goodbye, and it felt personal, and I’m so mad at you I can’t breathe, but I’m also so happy you’re back.” Her words whooshed out of her in a run-on sentence.

  The buzzer buzzed.

  “I’ll get it,” she muttered.

  She buzzed up the delivery guy, gave him a few bills, and then firmly shut the door. She took the two brown takeout bags to the kitchen table and began removing containers. I grabbed the plates and some napkins.

  We ate in silence for a few moments. I nearly moaned in rapture. I’d missed my favorite Chinese takeout place. It felt so completely normal, eating takeout with Herron.

  “Before we get into it all,” I said, reaching for more beef and broccoli, “I want to hear about you and what I’ve missed in your life.”

  “Nothing,” she stated. “Blaze works all the time, you ditched me, and I thought about getting a cat.”

  “You did not.”

  “I did too.”

  “You hate cats,” I pointed out.

  “Desperation.” She sighed. “I’m fine, Stella. Blaze and I are fine. My life is fine. Now, you can’t put it off any longer. Tell me what’s been going on.”

  So I did.

  For the better part of two hours, Herron’s mouth hung open. I assumed it was in shock, or maybe now, she finally thought I’d lost it, that I was truly insane.

  But I should’ve known better because when I finally ended my story, she closed her mouth, leapt off the chair, and hugged me.

  “This is the most fantastical thing ever. And I read paranormal romance.” I patted her back and she quickly released me. “Sorry. Did I hurt you?”

  I shook my head, frowning in confusion.

  “What?”

  “Touch doesn’t bother me the way it used to,” I said slowly. “I don’t know why.”

  She ran a hand through her long hair. “I’m in awe.”

  “So you don’t want to have me committed?” I asked warily.

  “No.” She paused. “Of all the people you could’ve been friends with, you found me. And I believe in a lot of things that don’t have rational explanations.”

  I let out a breath.

  “What’s he like, then?” she inquired.

  “Who? Lucifer?”

  She snorted. “You sound so blasé about it.”

  “What’s he like?” I repeated. “I’m not sure. Wicked? Yes. Vulnerable? Yes. Sexy as all get out? Definitely.”

  “It’s more than that, though. The physical stuff I get, but you genuinely care about him, don’t you?”

  I nodded, my throat tight. I wasn’t sure I was ready to bust all that open, to feel through everything I’d gone through with him. The betrayal in his devil eyes still haunted me.

  Because she knew me, Herron wisely didn’t continue down that path. Instead, she decided to derail me completely when she asked, “What are you going to do now?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean your life. You can’t really expect to come back here and pick up where you left off. Doing what you’ve been doing.”

  “I don’t know.” I frowned. “I just knew I needed a place that was mine to figure out my feelings.”

  “I missed you so much,” she said softly. “In a way I’ve never missed anyone.”

  I reached over and squeezed her hand. “What ever happens, whatever I decide to do, either live in Purgatory with my parents or choose to be with Lucifer, I need you to know I’ll never leave you again like that.”

  She smiled. “
You can’t get rid of me. I won’t let you.”

  Just like that, we were okay. Because Herron understood me in a way no one else did. And didn’t think I was completely nuts.

  I woke up in the middle of the night because I had an itch. Sitting up in bed, I tried to reach the spot on my back, but my arms weren’t long enough. I got up and went into the kitchen. Grabbing a wooden spoon, I then shoved it down the back of my shirt and scratched at the spot beneath my shoulder blade.

  Unfortunately, it only made it worse.

  I scratched and scratched until I was sure I caused the skin to open. On my way to the bathroom, I whipped off my shirt, so blood didn’t stain it. I turned on the bathroom light and nearly screamed. My reflection looked different than when I’d gone to bed three hours ago.

  My golden skin was back. But that wasn’t the only change this time. Now I had elfin-like ears and needlepointed teeth.

  And my eyes…

  They flashed bright, golden yellow.

  “No,” I whispered in sheer disbelief. “No, no, no.”

  I turned around to get a look at my back. Black nubs poked out of the skin of my shoulder blades.

  Whirling, I gripped the sink and willed my reflection back to normal. The glass rippled, and suddenly I was looking at my human face. But the moment I stopped thinking about projecting normalcy, my reflection reverted back to the visage of a beast.

  I threw my shirt back on and lowered my eyes, not wanting to see the monster I was becoming.

  Something inside of me slid into place when I realized I couldn’t fight it, fight him. More importantly, I didn’t want to.

  The reason it had taken me so long to feel lust and love and vulnerability and heartache was because I’d been waiting for him.

  Lucifer.

  My perfect match.

  Devil. Fallen angel. Prince.

  Would I ever understand why he had tried to take over Heaven? Why he’d never be satisfied with what he had?

  Would I be enough for him for all eternity, or would he want another?

  At the moment, I couldn’t really worry about the emotion behind it all.

  I was transforming.

  The nausea and the chills set in sometime around dawn. I collapsed onto the bed and stayed there. I pulled the blanket over my eyes, trying to keep the sun off me. Whenever a ray caressed my skin, it felt like I was burning from the inside out.

  My back itched where the nubs continued to grow. Late that evening, I felt them tear through my body.

  Wings, black and webbed, expanded from my back.

  As soon as my wings sprouted, the chills and nausea ceased. I ripped off the covers and stalked to the bathroom. With a deep breath, I looked into the mirror.

  I was terrifying.

  A monster.

  I’d never felt more beautiful or alive.

  My stomach made the most obvious hunger noise. A growl and a moan combined. My shirt was in tatters and I hadn’t showered. But even if I somehow managed to shower in the tiny bathroom with my new set of wings, how was I supposed to go out in public looking the way I did?

  I sat on the edge of my bed and thought about my only option. I snuck down to my shop to the backroom and used the landline to call Herron. Luckily there was no foot traffic for me to terrify.

  “Stella? Do you have any idea what time it is?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry, but—”

  “What’s wrong with your voice?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, you sound different. Like your voice sounds…I don’t know. Musical.”

  “Musical?” I frowned.

  “Dreamy.”

  “I have no idea—listen can you just come to my apartment. And bring food.”

  “Why can’t you go out?”

  “I don’t feel like myself.”

  She paused. “Should I be worried?”

  “Um, maybe?”

  “Siren.”

  “What?”

  “Your voice sounds like I’d expect a siren’s voice to sound like. Musical and dreamy, almost ethereal.”

  “Oooookay…”

  “What am I bringing you?”

  I told her.

  “You’re kidding?”

  “No. I’m not. And Herron. Hurry.”

  While I waited for Herron, I attempted to shower. I could only get half my body under the sprayer at a time because of my outstretched wings. Puddles of water wound up all over the floor and I used an old towel to soak them up.

  But I had another problem: clothing. Pants fit fine, but what was I supposed to do about a shirt?

  I went to my underwear drawer and riffled through it for an old tank top. It was a stretchy spaghetti strap, and it dipped low in the back. I stuck my legs through it and worked it up my body and slid my arms through the straps.

  It cut into my wings and wasn’t super comfortable, but at least I was covered. I put on my sweats and slippers. I looked like any other beast that was hanging out at home after a rough night.

  I snorted, feeling a little delirious.

  As I hung my towel up in the bathroom, I heard the front door open. “Herron? I’ll be right there!”

  “No, it’s me!” my father called back.

  “Crap,” I muttered to myself. To him, I yelled, “What are you doing here? Is it Mom? Is she okay?”

  “Your mother? She’s fine. Morning sickness from Hell.”

  “Don’t you mean morning sickness from Purgatory?”

  I heard him laugh.

  “So why the impromptu visit?”

  “Just wanted to check out where you lived. And you’re not going to believe this, but after you talked about a pastrami on rye sandwich, I wanted to experience it for myself. Where are you? Come out here, I picked up some sandwiches from the deli you mentioned.”

  “My favorite deli isn’t open in the middle of the night. You want to tell me how you got a sandwich?”

  “I’m Guardian of the Bridge. I have ways.”

  “All right then.”

  I inhaled slowly, knowing there was no hope for it. I came out of the bedroom into the kitchen. Dad was dressed in a black silk shirt an leather pants. He looked like a rock star that belonged on the cover of Rolling Stone.

  His dark eyes immediately darted to my wings, which shook under his careful perusal.

  Dad’s smile dimmed. “So it’s done then?”

  “What’s done?” I asked. I carefully moved through the small kitchen so I didn’t bash my wings into cabinets and counters. I picked up the teakettle and filled it.

  “You chose him.”

  I didn’t look at him when I asked, “How do you figure?”

  “When your mother picked me, she turned into a spider. Scared the living daylights out of her. You share her DNA. Therefore, it’s safe to assume that where your heart has led you, your body has followed.”

  I said nothing as I put the kettle on the stove and turned on the burner. I swiveled carefully—I’d caught the edges of my wings on more than one occasion already. They were sensitive yet durable, only twingeing when I’d bashed them against the wall, trying to go through a doorway.

  “Do you still love me?” I blurted out. “For choosing him?”

  “Of course I still love you. You’ve heard of this thing called unconditional love? Parents feel it for their children. I love you, Stella. Do you hear me? I love you.”

  We stared at one another, father and daughter. And then I went to him and embraced him, needing to know he still loved me despite my decision to be with Lucifer.

  I stepped away and rubbed at my tearing eyes. “Tea?”

  “Tea sounds great.”

  As I moved toward the small kitchen, the front door opened and Herron tore in, carrying three bags of takeout.

  Her eyes widened when she saw my father. “Whoa,” she breathed. “Is this—” She looked at me and whispered, “Lucifer?”

  I laughed and shook my head. Before Thane could introduce himself, I did it for h
im. “This is my father.”

  Thane’s eyes landed on mine. They were warm with love and appreciation.

  “Your father?” Herron shrieked. “This is your father?”

  I nodded.

  “Stella! Your dad is a total hottie!”

  I shook my head in exasperation as I watched Herron fall over him. Sure, he was good-looking and didn’t look a day over thirty. But come on. No girl wanted her friends to think her dad was hot.

  “I’m Thane.” He went to help her immediately. “Can I help you with those bags?”

  “Hot and chivalrous,” Herron said to me with a wink. “No wonder your mom is pregnant.”

  “Can you not? I prefer not to think about my parents as sexual beings. ’K, thanks. Thanks for these,” I said, digging through one of the bags. “I’m starving.”

  “Why did you need me to go out in the middle of the night and get fifteen medium rare hamburgers?” she demanded. “You made it seem like you were curled up in the fetal position, unable to move.”

  I frowned. “Because of how I look.”

  It was her turn to frown. “You look fine. Better than fine. You look like you went to the spa. Your skin is radiant.”

  I paused mid-chew to look at her and then to my father who was standing by appearing amused.

  “Glamour,” he explained. “She still sees you as the you before you…well, you know.”

  I swallowed. “You mean she can’t see my…”

  He shook his head. “You have to show them to her.”

  “Show me what?” Herron asked.

  “Why can you see me the way I really look, then?” I asked, ignoring Herron for the time being.

  His mouth lifted into a half smile. “Because you’re my kid.”

  “Hello? What’s going on?” Herron placed her hands on her hips and stared at me.

  I crumpled up the empty foil wrapper. “Promise not to scream?”

  “When I was seven, I walked in on my parents having sex. Nothing can be scarier than that.”

  “That’s what you think.” I took a deep breath. “Okay. Here goes.” I went to that place inside of me and found the glamour shield. It was thin and shiny, and I drew back the curtain.