Page 31

“You want me to turn my children into lab rats,” I say, my voice flat.

Alexis shrugs and takes a sip of her lemon water. “It’s a small price, but they’ll thrive and be happy.”

“They are happy on Wintermoon,” I insist, though the words sound hollow even to my own ears.

“Are they?” Alexis laughs, the sound like shattering glass.

“I bet they’re just as miserable as their mother.

Wearing a tacky nightclub dress to get attention from a human man.

You’re the Queen of Spiders. Men should be falling into your silk-robed webs, eager to be captured.

But you... you’re acting like a desperate little bitch. ”

“Fuck you!” I snap back, and Alexis laughs louder.

“I’m not joining you. No. Wintermoon is my home.”

Alexis shrugs. “I expected you to decline the first offer.” She digs into her expensive tote bag and pulls out a syringe, placing it on the table with a small click. “Which is why I’ll take a blood sample for the time being.”

She winks at me. I start to get up to run, but the moment I slide out of the booth and stand, Ackley sucker punches me hard in the face.

The impact sends me reeling back, blood pooling in my mouth and starting to trickle from my nose.

My body goes into shock, the sting of the punch making my vision blur temporarily.

Stars dance at the edges of my sight, and a sharp, metallic taste fills my mouth.

“You don’t know what’s good for you, Carla. But I do,” Ackley says, grabbing the syringe from the table and then my arm. He pulls the cap off with his teeth, then jabs the needle into my arm. I feel a sharp pinch as he begins to draw my blood.

I fight against him, twisting my arm, but he just punches me again. The second blow lands on my cheekbone, and pain explodes across my face.

“Stop fighting, Carla,” Alexis says coolly. “You get your babies involved, and more of them will die.”

She points to the large man, who pats a weapon at his side. “That gun holds enough toxins to kill your children with just one bullet. They’ll die a slow, painful death.”

I scream, the sound blood-curdling and raw in my throat. Ackley pulls the syringe out of my arm and puts the cap on it, then hands it to Alexis, who puts it in her bag with a satisfied smile.

“Lovely. Thank you, Ackley,” she says, patting his cheek like he’s a well-behaved dog. “While I don’t get what you see in this dumb bitch, I do understand that she’s better alive than dead.”

She looks at my bloodied face and smiles. “Fine, go back to Wintermoon. See how much they care. My offer is still open. All you have to do is stop into my office.” She winks at me. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

I feel like an absolute fool. I did this to myself. Where are Damon and Amari? They probably backed off like I asked them to. But I stiffen when the door to the diner opens again, and relief floods through me when I hear Damon and Amari’s expensive shoes click against the hard floor of the diner.

“Alexis, what a surprise to see you on this side of town,” Amari says, approaching her slowly, adjusting his tie. His eyes drift down to her ass, and I look away. I don’t want to see him admiring another woman.

“Just another pretty face, with a fat ass. And that sour stench of a radical,” he says, his voice dripping with disdain.

Alexis tries to slap him, but he catches her hand mid-swing.

“You can leave. I’ll kill you another day,” he says, his voice deadly calm. “But the others, they’re mine.”

With that, Alexis runs out of the diner, and I try to yell to stop her, but they just let her go. Why? She just took some of my blood.

The large man pulls out his gun and starts to fire, but Damon flips his coin in his hand and tosses it with inhuman speed. The coin embeds itself in the man’s neck, and blood spurts from the wound as the gun falls from his hand. The coin hits the ground, rolling until it stops with a metallic ping.

I clutch my throat, gagging at the sight. I try to stand, but fall back, my mouth hurting too bad. I hear the staff running out from the back exit, doors slamming as they flee.

Damon steps over the dying man and retrieves his coin, grabbing a napkin from one of the other booths and cleaning it off methodically.

Ackley tries to run, but bumps right into Amari, who’s wearing the most sinister grin I’ve ever seen. It’s all teeth and no warmth, the smile of a predator who’s cornered his prey.

Amari grabs the back of Ackley’s neck and drags him back over to the booth where I’m sitting. My eyes widen with horror as I see Ackley’s feet dangling several inches off the ground, his hands clawing at Amari’s iron grip.

“You like to play dangerous games, Carla,” Amari says, his eyes burning into mine. “I like to play them too.”

I choke in fear, scooting back against the booth.

“Did you know that your children were just inches from bursting in here and possibly getting hurt?” he asks, his voice a low growl.

Damon grabs the weapon from the floor and stuffs it into his suit jacket. “At least we can figure out what’s in these that’s strong enough to hurt her children.”

Amari’s glare stays fixed on me, his jaw tense with barely controlled rage. “I told you—warned you that if you got so much as a scratch on you, many people would die. And I’m a man of my word.”

I stare at Ackley, the way he’s fighting for his life, kicking and clawing at Amari’s arm.

“You typical fucking vampires,” Ackley spits out, his voice strained. “The other night you had your dick in another bitch’s mouth, now you’re after mine.”

Amari laughs at that, then digs his nails into the back of Ackley’s neck, pushing him closer toward my booth.

“Yours? Carla doesn’t belong to you, Ackley. She’s mine,” he says, then looks to me with a dangerous grin. I should yell for Amari to stop, but I don’t. I’m hurt, I’m tired. I want to go home.

“I told your children that I’d bring you home safe, Carla. And I intend to do that. They trusted me enough to stand down so I could retrieve you.”

Amari takes his eyes off my face, and I look to Damon, who’s sitting in a booth across from us, grinning, flipping his coin as he watches. He’s enjoying this.

“Many more will die for this. This isn’t the end. But I’ll start with this asshole,” Amari says.

What happens next makes my stomach turn and my blood freeze. Amari lifts Ackley higher, then slams him down onto the table in front of me. The impact is so violent that the table cracks, dishes shattering and sending ketchup, soda, and fries flying everywhere.

Ackley screams, a primal sound of pure terror. Amari’s hand clamps around his throat, the other hand pinning him to the table. Ackley struggles, but it’s like watching a mouse try to escape a python.

“You touched what’s mine,” Amari growls, his fangs extending to their full length. “You hurt her. Made her bleed.”

“Please,” Ackley gasps, his eyes bulging with fear. “I’ll tell you everything—what Brookstone and Blackburn is up to—my research on the spiders—on Carla’s children?—”

Amari laughs. “I don’t want your pathetic bribes. I want your suffering.”

With a swift, brutal motion, Amari plunges his hand into Ackley’s chest. Blood splatters everywhere—across the booth, the wall, my face and dress. Ackley’s scream turns to a wet gurgle as Amari’s hand searches inside his chest cavity.

I should be horrified. I should be looking away. But I can’t. I watch, transfixed, as Amari’s face twists with a savage pleasure. His expensive suit is ruined, soaked with Ackley’s blood, but he doesn’t seem to care.

“Feel that?” Amari asks, his voice almost gentle. “That’s your heart. Still beating. For now.”

Ackley makes a choking sound, his eyes rolling back in his head.

“Carla’s heartbeat is precious to me,” Amari continues, conversationally, as if he’s not elbow-deep in a man’s chest. “Yours means nothing.”

With a sickening squelch, Amari pulls his hand out, Ackley’s heart clutched in his fist. Blood pumps from the severed arteries, spraying across the table in diminishing pulses.

Ackley’s body convulses once, twice, then goes still, his dead eyes turned toward me, frozen in an expression of ultimate terror.

I look at him, at the man who betrayed me, who punched me, who was going to sell me and my children to Brookstone and Blackburn. I should feel sick, but instead, a wave of vindication washes over me. He deserved this.

Amari brings the heart to his mouth and sinks his fangs into it, drinking deeply. The sight should disgust me, but all I feel is a dark satisfaction. Blood drips down his chin, soaking into the fabric of his clothes. When he’s finished, he drops the heart onto the table with a wet slap.

He turns to me, his eyes wild with bloodlust, his face a mask of primal fury. For a moment, I think I might be next. There’s a dangerous glint in his eye that says he’s not done with his rampage.

I don’t know what comes over me, but I throw myself into his arms, not caring that he’s covered in blood. I bury my face against him, sobbing uncontrollably. His arms wrap around me, tight and secure, and I feel his face press into my hair.

“I’m sorry,” I choke out between sobs. “I’m sorry. I want to go home.”

“Okay, okay,” Amari murmurs, his hand gently stroking my back. His gentle touch calms me, and I cling to him like he’s my lifeline.

Damon finally stands, straightening his suit. “Leave the mess for the radicals to clean up. This needs to be a message for what happens when they fuck with Wintermoon.”

He flips his coin, catches it, and slides it into his pocket. “I’m tired of playing nice.”

I keep my face buried against Amari’s chest, not wanting to look at the scene around us. His body is warm from the fresh feed, and his arms are strong around me. In this moment, despite everything, I feel safer than I have in centuries.