Scared of Spiders (8 page)

J
osie woke in a basement
—a cold, dank, and in need of a major renovation basement. Of course, part of the reason for her chill could have had to do with the fact that she found herself surrounded by dangling cocoons, big human-shaped ones. Not exactly a reassuring sign.

Great, my nightmare has evolved.
Even as she tried to fool herself into thinking she slept, she knew better. From the frigid air that made her breath puff out in white clouds to the pain in her body from the attack and kidnapping, the sensations were impossible to ignore.
I’m awake, and that doesn’t bode well.

Clint and Brandon were probably frantic and furious, but how could they have known that one of their own pack would be susceptible?
I am so stupid. I knew Snickers wouldn’t go outside. She hates grass.
Blaming herself accomplished nothing, except keep at bay, for a tiny moment more, the throat-closing fear that froze her limbs, not that they could move in the first place, bound tight in the sticky threads of a cocoon, it was her nightmare made real.

A match flared and lit the tip of a taper. Josie blinked at the sudden illumination then wished she’d closed her eyes tight and never opened them. In the circular glow cast by the candle stood a hooded figure, and even though she’d only just recently begun to believe in things science could not explain, there was no denying that the cold waves rolling off the figure were evil.

Welcome to my nightmare.
She should have told him there was no need to bind her. Why, when terror had her paralyzed? The cowled one strode forward. The malice flowing from its body intensified, and Josie shook.

She wanted to scream when a pale hand rose and a finger with a sharp fingernail dragged across her skin. She bit her lip at the pain when he pressed down harder, breaking her skin.

“So glad you could make it.” The voice, sibilant and low, rocked her with its familiarity; it was a voice from her nightmares, usually forgotten upon waking.

“Why me?” she whispered as tears rolled down her cheeks.

“You’re mine, and I’ve been looking for you for a long time,” was the chilling reply.

“I don’t understand. What’s so special about me?” Josie asked, her words coming out in a wail.

The bogeyman inhaled deeply. “I love the smell of fear. And yours is especially delicious. As to your question of why, I need your wolves, among other things.”

Josie’s breath left her.
Clint and Brandon?
“No. I won’t let them. I’d rather die,” she said in a moment of bravery, unable to bear even thinking of them coming to harm, especially not because of her.
I’m not worth them sacrificing themselves to this…this thing.

“Die? Who said anything about dying? You, my dear, have something I want. Something your bitch of a mother denied me.”

Confusion creased her brow, and for a moment, fear eased its hold to curiosity. “What does my mother have to do with anything? She’s dead.”

“The bitch would deny me by dying before I could find her. You see your mother was my fiancée a long time ago, not by choice. Her father arranged the match for a price of course. And I paid his hefty fee, for, you see, your mother was the carrier of a very rare condition, a state that made her destined to be mine. I would have made her my queen. Instead, the slut ran off with a human of all things. By the time I found where she’d fled and hidden, she’d died. Lucky me, though, she left behind a daughter, one with the same dormant power. ”

Images of her mother, few as she had, flashed through her mind, filled with smiles and laughter, but even though she’d been a child, Josie remembered her fear when someone knocked at the door.
Could he be telling the truth?
“I don’t understand. My mother was human. You have the wrong person.”

“Your mother was a liar,” he shouted. Cadaverous hands pushed back his hood to reveal a face that should have remained in shadow. Gray skin stretched across sharp cheeks, and bloodless lips peeled back from teeth sharpened to points. Josie couldn’t help shuddering when he grinned at her, the rictus of amusement stretching his face grotesquely and lighting the fires of madness in his eyes.

Josie forced herself to speak, even as she beheld the face of evil. “I don’t believe you. I would have known if she was special. She would have told me.”
I know she would have, had she lived and not died unexpectedly in that car crash.

A cold smile met her refutation. “Poor, deluded child. You know I speak the truth. I can see the dawning of understanding in your eyes. Your mother was the rarest of rare. A true shapeshifter, able to become anything she wanted.”

Josie closed her eyes against the knowledge.
My mother was a shapeshifter. No wonder Clint and Brandon were attracted to me. It’s in my genes. Not that they’ll ever know now.
Much as a part of her hoped for rescue, she prayed they’d be smart and stay away.

“While I’ve enjoyed our little chat, it’s time for silence. Your suitors have arrived to try and save you. Predictable dogs. Never fear. Once I’ve taken care of them, I will make you the recipient of my full attention. After I cleanse your body of their touch, that is. I need a clean receptacle for my seed.”

Josie could only whimper pathetically as the monster disguised as a man shrugged off his robe, which revealed a pale, emaciated body. His body rippled as he shifted into the eight-legged monster that had terrorized her dreams for so long.

Josie hiccupped in fear, a sound silenced as he spun a web across her mouth but leaving her nose and eyes uncovered. She watched with running tears as Clint and Brandon sauntered in, big, bold, and beautiful. They’d come for her.
Oh, how I wish they hadn’t and saved themselves instead.
She’d known, though, deep down, they would never allow her kidnapping to go unanswered.

She saw their bodies—naked as if they’d just shifted back—stiffen in outrage when they perceived her. She tried to tell them with her eyes to run, escape while they could. They didn’t all need to die today.

The stubborn jerks, so brave and wonderful, would never turn tail and run.

Oh, how I wish I could have one last chance with them, to tell them how much I love them both.

B
randon growled
when he saw Josie, terrified and crying. His anger exploded at finding her trussed and strung up like an appetizer for later. He couldn’t stop his beast from bursting forth. His hackles rose in stiff spikes along his spine as he watched the arachnid shifter who’d caused so much havoc and terrorized his woman.
I’m going to tear your legs off one by one, you fucking bastard.

Beside him, Clint’s body went rigid, and his voice when he addressed the cadaverous man in front of them was the low, controlled tone of a man in the grips of white rage. “Release our woman.”

The immense spider shifted back into its human form—not a prettier sight. With a cold smile, the shifter opened his arms wide. “What kind of greeting is that? In case you hadn’t noticed, you’re in my home. I realize your pea-sized canine brains might not be able to grasp it, but I am the one in control here. I will decide what happens.”

“This is your last chance. Let her go if you want to live.” Clint spat the words out through stiff lips, his fists clenched at his side. Brandon marveled at his control.

The spider shifter laughed, a rusty sound that held no mirth. “What, aren’t you going to chivalrously offer to trade yourselves for her? And you call yourself her lovers.”

Clint took a step forward and cocked his head. “Drop the pretense. We both know you never intended to let her go. All the scare tactics, those weren’t meant for us. She was the one you wanted all along.”

“Give a prize to the talking doggie,” said the voice of evil as he clapped. His eyes blazed as he hissed at them. “Stupid mutts. You had the biggest reward of all, and you never even realized it.”

“That’s because, in our eyes, Josie isn’t a prize but a person, one whom we cherish.”

The nasty being chuckled. “Weaklings. And to think you’re what stands between me and ownership of this city. Not for long. Once I kill you, control of the pack will fall to me.”

“And just how do you plan to kill me?” Most people, when confronted in the buff, would appear in a position of weakness, but naked and cocky, Clint looked dangerous. And if Brandon’s wolf could have grinned, it would have.

Here we go. It’s about to start.

Brandon knew Clint taunted the arachnid on purpose. They’d discussed their plan before going in. In a nutshell, Clint would distract the bad guy while Brandon freed Josie. A great plan, if it worked. But unlike the trap on the way against shifters whose minds were controlled by the spider, fighting this creature would be more treacherous. For one, they’d have to be on constant guard—in their minds. Since they’d entered its lair, Brandon had felt the pressure pounding against his thoughts, insidious whispering that oozed along the walls in his psyche looking for a breach point.

In the midst of battle, how much harder would it be to prevent the slippery, evil tendrils from entering?

Not that it mattered. They’d both do anything to free the little mouse who’d taken over their hearts. Death paled in comparison to a life without her.

And the deciding moment had arrived. Clint said something that finally pushed the alien shifter over the edge. With a high-pitched cry, the cadaverous body was replaced with his alter ego, the eight-legged freak.

Clint had also allowed his wolf to burst free, and as he ran, snarling at the arachnid, Brandon quickly made his way toward Josie.

Brandon forced himself to look away from her face as he used his teeth to tear through the silken threads binding her. He didn’t want to be distracted. Sticky and stronger than it appeared, the cocoon didn’t shred as rapidly as he would have liked. Behind him, he could hear the sounds of battle as Clint fought the beast alone.

Once Josie’s arms and legs were freed, Brandon shifted long enough to say “Go! Run! Get in the SUV, and get away from here.” Brandon pushed her in the direction of the stairs.

She hesitated. “But what about you and Clint?”

“Piece of cake.” Brandon gave her a cocky grin and a hard kiss before shoving her again toward the stairs. A yelp made them both turn. Clint limped back from the monstrous spider, blood streaming from a wide gash in his side.
Time to squish the spider.

“
R
un
,” Brandon ordered her before he ran toward the nightmare battle, his pale buttocks flashing until he shifted back into his wolf shape.

Josie stayed rooted to the floor. She couldn’t stop herself from watching. As wolves, Brandon and Clint were magnificent. Even injured, Clint lunged at the massive spider from one side while Brandon worried at it from the other. But the freak of nature was wily, not to mention multi-limbed. It batted them away to bloody effect. Its many faceted eyes glowed red, and from its maw dripped a slime that made Brandon yelp when it touched his skin.

They needed help. But the only person left was her.
I can’t do this. I can’t. Oh my God.

Even as she whimpered in terror, she picked up a rusted piece of metal, its end jagged and dangerous. She forced herself on legs that shook to approach the spider. It turned its nightmarish head toward her, and even in its inhuman guise, she heard it chuckle. Whispers swirled around her, sibilant sounds that taunted her and made her whole body tremble. So focused was she on ignoring the voices she didn’t see the hairy leg that arched out. She couldn’t miss feeling it, though.

Its clawed tip jabbed her in the stomach and knocked her down. As she lay there, stunned, pain spread its eager claws throughout her body. She heard howling, an eerie sound that preceded the invigorated sounds of battle.

Josie tried to push herself up, but the agony proved too much, and she slumped back.

Is this how I die?

Her fingers scrabbled against the hard floor and encountered the metal lance she’d dropped. She grasped it, only one thought in her mind—save the ones she loved.

She waited for her moment, free of fear for once in her life. Calm as a windless day, she prepared to face the end.

But not alone. When the lumbering body of the spider straddled her as it backed away from an intense attack, she gathered her last reserves of strength—and the love she carried for Clint and Brandon—and shoved the spear up through the soft underbelly of the beast.

The gushing ichor burned as it splashed down on her. Not that she noticed. Out of strength, she closed her eyes.