I reached into my pocket, grabbing my phone. I heard the shape moving closer to me as I flipped on my flashlight. As I turned it up, I saw the flash of large black legs on both sides of me. I could hear the man breathing in front of me. The breath slowly left my body as I panned the light up, seeing a dark torso covered in fine hairs, two shorter legs at the front, and then . . .
It merged from a dark spider body into a male torso that reached up and over my head. The fine hairs covering the spider half of him crept up in a dark line along his human chest. There were human arms, and my phone moved up to see long dark hair hanging over pale shoulders.
I expected to see a man at the top of the elaborate costume; but, my phone’s light reflected on a pale face instead. Two mandibles reached out from his jaws and overlapped to cover a very human mouth. And the eyes. Eight eyes reflected my phone’s light with a glint and . . . blinked.
ChapterThree
I screamed,dropping my phone as I ran toward the door.
Something latched around my waist, pulling me off my feet and against the hard form of the spider’s body as human arms wrapped around my shoulders. I shouted even louder, my screams becoming muddled and quiet as the echoes hit the webs covering the tent’s walls.
I struggled against the monster’s grip, trying to ignore the fact that I liked the touch. There was something in the air. I was being gassed, drugged, poisoned somehow. I did not understand what the hell I had walked into, but I was not eager to find out.
Something grabbed my leg, holding it steady. I heard a small click as my ankle was encased in webs. The monster’s human arms held me against his torso as his spider legs worked to bind my ankles together. Then the webbing was wrapped around my waist, next around my wrist. I was bound and left dangling on a web in front of the monster. I cried out as I struggled against the sticky bonds. My body swung around in a slow circle, and I closed my eyes, not willing to look into the face of my captor.
Warm fingers brushed against my cheek, wiping away the tear that had spilled from my eye. I whimpered, flinching away from the touch.
“I am very sorry,” he spoke earnestly, a hint of regret in his tone.
The presence of his body moved away, and I hung limp in the air. There was a loud snap a moment later and bright lights pressed against my closed eyelids.
“Let me go,” I pleaded softly.
“I can’t,” Bishop said, a hint of regret in his voice.
“Please,” I begged.
I dangled in place for a moment, then took a deep breath and opened my eyes. The bright light stung my eyes. I saw that the tent was covered in webbing from floor to ceiling. It was a nest. The large mass in the top corner I had seen in the darkness must have been his bed. A bed made of webs. From his body. From his . . . spider body.
I turned slowly and whimpered as I saw the monster in front of me.
He was still pale, and I saw his hair was streaked with faint gray and blue hairs. The human part of him was corded with muscle. The spider-half of him . . . I stared at the large black abdomen with its faint blue and gray streaks. His legs shifted and I flinched, afraid he was about to lunge. Instead, looking up to meet his eyes, I saw that he was pondering me as I was observing him.
“Justine,” he said again.
The sound of my name on his tongue was both frightening and . . . arousing.
“What are you going to do with me?” I asked.
“Do you not know? Do you not feel it?”
Feel it? What was I meant to be feeling? Whatever gas was being pumped through the air was only causing my arousal to heighten. I felt the moisture increase between my legs and the monster – Bishop – stepped closer.
The shorter legs at his waist reached out, fluttering up my sides. I knew enough about spiders to realize that they were pedipalps. He was smelling me. A low growl sounded in his chest. The pincers around his mouth shifted, and he moved closer.
“Stay back,” I warned.
“You smell like dew,” he said, as if not hearing me.
His hands reached up, brushing over the thin line of skin showing on my stomach. My eyes fluttered closed, liking the feeling of his fingers against my flesh.
“Dew and nature . . . home,” he whispered.
“Home?” I asked.
“I have not smelt home in a long time,” he exclaimed.
“Are you going to eat me?” I asked.