Lance tugged at his eyelid, scanning his eye in the mirror. The piercing green irises stared back at him, and the veins in the corner remained red. He checked them every day before he left. Made sure the beast hadn’t taken advantage of his unconscious state and possessed him. Every day, he was met with the same reaction; a soft growl from the beast, as if to say, How dare you?
Lance laughed it off. Always laughed it off because every time he looked, something inside him told him that it would be fine. That he was the one in control. But it never hurt to be careful. He blew out a single breath, a reminder that he was alive. That even after everything he’d been through, he made it out mostly unscathed.
He stepped away from the clean mirror and out the back room into his store. With a stretch, he grabbed a breakfast bar from the end of an aisle and was out the door. The sun peeked over the horizon, and the streets were quiet. The silence paired well with the orange haze in the sky.
But at night the silence haunted him, when the darkness of his room settled, the outside was quiet, and the beast was sound asleep. Apparently, it did that—not just rested, but slept.
That was when the fear came. When he was all alone in the quiet darkness, images of the pitch-black cell haunted him. Despite the short amount of time he’d been in there, he couldn’t stop that fear in his chest, that nausea in his stomach. Sometimes, he even awoke the beast like a child yearning for their mother. It would awake with a soft grumble, but it would be there. Never did it growl at him in those moments. Never did it snarl. Somehow, it understood, and it cared. And when Lance waited for it to ask for more room, it didn’t. It hadn’t even bothered trying these past few months.
But even when Lance slept at night, nightmares preyed on him: nightmares of being trapped in that cell, cold, tired, and hungry, awaiting Caleb’s smiling face somewhere within the darkness; nightmares of a woman with red hair and green eyes screaming in a hospital room; nightmares of everyone he knew and loved—Derek, Kaela, Eric—dead.
Sometimes, the beast snarled at Caleb even in his dreams, and while the beast never seemed to acknowledge it when he awoke, Lance knew it shared the nightmares he did. Being stuck in some dark void, completely powerless within the Fara-something cage.
Lance ate his breakfast bar as he strolled down the street, a jacket wrapped tight around him. He ran a hand through his dark hair, now cut short.
If Eric was to be believed, he wouldn’t have to walk to the hideout much longer.
“I’ll teach you to drive like a father should,” he’d said.
Lance dipped into an alleyway, threw his wrapper in a nearby trash can, and shoved his cold hands into his pockets. Arachna was facing the heart of winter now. Once, he would’ve adored the cold, but it just didn’t feel the same after that cell. He savored warmth more than ever. Even the shadowy alley gave him an uneasy, sinking feeling in his chest. He gulped.
He weaved down the alleyway and slid through a narrow passage invisible to anyone not looking for it. Within seconds, he was on the other side, and two armed men faced him. They guarded the front of the headquarters, nearly a perfect reflection of the one that had gone up in smoke. But now, it was much better hidden. The back of the building facing the street was paved with concrete, blending seamlessly with the other buildings. Eric had added secret pathways for quick exits—more contingencies, more backups. At least he’d learned from his mistakes.
And he’d listened to his son’s advice. As time passed, he listened more to Kaela and Derek, as well. He didn’t make any decisions without Lance, and he made few without Kaela and Derek, either.
The two guards wore black trench coats, hiding bulletproof vests underneath.
Lance resisted the urge to shake his head at the sight, regardless of how many times he’d seen them. A black trench coat was Eric’s little uniform for his soldiers. It was laughable, but at least he’d had the sense to give them some armor underneath. They both had pistols at their sides.
Lance nodded to them as he walked past, and they nodded back, one of them opening the dark wooden door for him. He stepped into the dim room and sighed the cold air out of his lungs as warmth embraced him.
At a dark wooden table stretching from one side of the room to the other sat Eric, Kaela, Derek, Rob, and Rachel, the new police chief of Arachna. Rotoya had stepped down months ago then disappeared. Eric wanted to track her down, but Rachel stopped him.
As Lance made to sit down next to Eric, Rachel stood and stretched. “Thank you for the information, Eric.” She smiled at Lance as she passed him. “I should be going now.”
“How are the new recruits?” Eric asked. His smile was still as wicked as the day Lance first met him—only less frightening. More… playful.
Rachel kept walking. “They’re adjusting very well, thanks for asking.”
Lance shared a nod with Derek and Kaela.
Eric cleared his throat. “Now that Lance is here, we have some good news. The soldiers that volunteered are reacting well to the first strain of the cure. The most common side effect seems to be nausea, but for the most part, they’re good.” The door closed, sealing all of them in the warmth of the room, the old fireplace having been replaced with an electric one. “If things keep going as well as they are, this thing should be mass produced within the year.” Eric looked at Kaela. “How’s the recruitment going?”
Grief shadowed her face. “I’m getting there. The building just needs a few more details, and I finally hired a new kitchen staff. The grand opening should take place in a few weeks.” Speaking of a grand opening should have filled her voice with excitement, but Kaela just sighed and took a long sip from her coffee cup.
“And you,” Eric said, wild eyes pointed at Lance. “I have something I would like to run by my consultant.” He winked.
Lance leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “And what would that be? I hope you’re not considering coercing another pharmaceutical company.”
Eric laughed. Only Eric laughed. “No… Something else.”
Before Lance could ask what he meant, Eric stood and disappeared into the back room. They were left with the fake fire crackling behind them. Lance brushed off his jacket and let the warmth embrace him. The beast purred.
Lance eyed Kaela then Derek then Rob. They all wore proud smiles, and Lance’s heart skipped a beat. If Eric was about to try to make him leader, he would step out. No way was he about to take that position. Slowly, they’d built an inkling of trust, and breaking it now would devastate him.
Eric returned, holding something in his arms. Some object swathed in a dark cloth. He set it down gently in front of Lance and placed his hands behind his back, his smile turning proud.
Genuine.
A cold sweat formed on Lance’s hands, and when he hesitated, Eric said, “It won’t bite… Well, not you, anyways.”
Lance reached for the fabric and caressed the black cloth. Soft to the touch. He racked his brain for possibilities of what could be hidden beneath it. He surveyed everyone in the room, and they watched with wide eyes. Lance took a steadying breath and slowly unwrapped the cloth.
As he unraveled it, the room went silent, and the beast chirped curiously. Lance knew it wasn’t dangerous, yet his heart beat faster and faster as the cloth gave way to the object beneath. All eyes in the room were set on him, all with matching smiles. Was this what it was to finally have a family? It’s nice.
Whatever it was, it was heavy. Made of metal, he thought as he brushed his hand across its cool and unyielding shape. Finally, he removed the last of the cloth, revealing the gift.
It was an ornamental dagger, sheathed in a silver-and-orange scabbard.
Lance’s fingers traveled up the sheath to the handle of the weapon. “Whoa.”
The handle was shaped like a fox. A orange chrome fox with a silver chin and two emeralds for eyes.
“The fox was her favorite animal,” Eric said. “Her spirit animal, she said. Even has red fur like her hair.” He chuckled.
Lance didn’t cover his eyes, but he tried to blink away the tears behind them. The fox was carved with intricate detail. Whoever had done it had taken their time. He ran a shaky thumb across it then across each emerald. They both shone in the sunlight spilling in from the windows.
Lance drew the blade. It whined against the sheath, and the blade itself was lightly etched all the way down with the pattern of a spider’s web. The pattern was painted black, a contrast to the gray steel.
Tears pushed harder and harder against Lance’s eyes, filling the dam to the point of breaking.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
“Welcome to the spider’s web, Lance,” Eric said.
And as cheesy as that line was, as stupid as it sounded, the tears fell down Lance’s cheeks. Those emerald eyes looked back at him, the only reminder of his mother. He wiped the tears away.
Months ago, he would never have let them see his tears, but after all they’d been through, it didn’t matter anymore.
The mistakes and the choices he’d made had led them here—damaged, broken, but together.
Lance looked into his father’s black eyes, and they stared back into his. They’d grown warmer in the past few months, like a dead flame had been revived. And the blond dye in his hair was washing out, revealing the black beneath. Doesn’t feel right anymore, he’d said.
Lance grabbed the dagger tightly in his hand and sheathed the blade—his own blade, a constant reminder of his mother. He looked at the others, and Kaela had her face pointed up as she dabbed at her eyes with a tissue.
When she noticed Lance’s stare, she said, “Shut up, it’s a sweet moment, okay?” She swirled the coffee in her cup and took another sip. Derek chuckled while he and Rob sent smiles at each other.
Lance laughed, and he and Eric returned to their seats.
“Does my consultant approve of the decision I made without his counsel?”
Lance cleared his throat. “Decision approved.” He rubbed his thumb against the fox’s eye again. “Thanks.”
“Well, I can’t take all the credit. Originally, I was going to pay for it, but Derek and Kaela wanted to chip in. So they did.”
“Thanks, guys.”
They just smiled at him.
“Okay, everyone,” Eric said, leaning back in his chair and clasping his hands together. “What information have you all gotten for me today?”
* * *
The television chattered in the background, some comedy about a group of friends and their antics.
Lance watched it for a few minutes, then his focus faded, shifting to the dagger in his lap. He stared into its emerald eyes.
He opened his mouth a fifth time, the temptation to speak to it alluring. It wasn’t her. It was just a gift from Eric. Still, as he brushed his thumb over the orange chrome, he opened his mouth a sixth time, searching for the words to say to her, even if she wouldn’t hear them.
He sighed and leaned his head back against the wall of his room. The lights were turned out, despite his own anxiety and the protests from the beast. If it wasn’t for the TV, he would be scrambling for the light switch. But for the moment, he allowed it.
He told himself he needed to adjust to the dark again. He needed to recognize that he wasn’t in that cell even if a chill ran down his arms every few minutes and Caleb’s face appeared behind his eyelids just as often.
The beast growled every time, as if it saw him too.
Lance closed his eyelids again, but Caleb’s face didn’t show. Sleep weighed them down, and Lance drifted off, the laugh track from the TV fading.
“Hey.”
Lance leapt out of bed, his dagger whining as it left its sheath, pointed at the intruder.
Laughter erupted from the door, and Lance rolled his eyes, putting a hand to his racing heart. “Son of a bi—”
“Ah, ah,” Eric interrupted, holding his hand up. “Language.”
The beast cocked its head to the side, and Lance mimicked the action. “Language?”
“How ya doin’, Lancelot?” Eric continued, looking at the TV. “Used to love that show, but I stopped having time for TV years ago.”
“Yeah,” Lance said absentmindedly. “What are you doing here?” He crinkled his nose as the realization popped into his head. “Wait, how did you even get in here without me knowing? I thought I was supposed to have the best security system there was.”
Eric shrugged. “You do. I just happen to have the keys to it.”
Lance rolled his eyes. “Seriously, what are you doing here so late? It’s”—he peeked at the clock on the bedside table—“almost midnight.”
Eric ripped his gaze away from the TV. “You really don’t know?”
Lance spread his arms out. Enlighten me.
Eric turned back to the TV. “Hmm… I suppose I’ll have to add that to the list of surprises.”
Lance crossed his arms. “Please tell me you didn’t piss off another corporate leader.”
“I did not. Ryan and I are on good terms with each other, thanks to my humble advisor.”
Lance sat on the bed, sheathing the blade. “Well, your humble advisor had his work cut out for him.” He laughed, but it wasn’t an exaggeration.
“That’s what I pay you for,” Eric said. “Among other things. Speaking of which, did you get any good info today?”
Lance thought back, recounting every customer that had come into his store. “A lot of chatter about Ryan being the new head of Landreau Corp. No rumors, no conspiracies. For now, the city’s buzzing with the idea of cleaner drugs for cheaper prices.”
Eric hummed. “It was ballsy of him to make such a promise on live television.”
“Even more so to do it with almost no experience running a place like that.”
“I bet dear ol’ cousin Caleb is turning in his grave.”
“Better not be.”
Laughter filled the room.
“So, how does it feel to know everything that goes on in Landreau Corp now?” Lance asked. Between exchanging information with Ryan, planting multiple spies while the company was distracted, and hiring several researchers and scientists to keep an eye on things, Landreau Corp practically belonged to Eric’s organization. And good for it, too. Without them, the cure would never have been made. “I mean, after everything we’ve been through, is it all you ever wanted?”
“I did all of that for your sake, you know.”
“I was just asking,” Lance defended.
Eric sighed. “Like the city of Arachna is finally ours.”
“All that’s really left for you to do is find a way to get more information from the inner slums.”
“Which leads me to my first surprise.” Eric leaned closer. “How would you feel about having your own agents to gain information on the slums?”
The beast purred, but Lance scratched the back of his neck. “Eric, I don’t want to lead anyone.”
“You won’t have to. Just tell them where to go, and they’ll collect information and relay it back to you, to relay to me.”
Lance started to refuse, but Eric interrupted. “It’s only a handful of agents, and they’ll get information in the deeper parts of the slums that you can’t get from owning a store here. And if you ever feel like you can’t handle it, I’ll take it over until you can.”
“I thought agents didn’t like going into the slums.”
“Derek’s agents didn’t. Besides, they have their own parts of Arachna to spy on. Moving them to the slums was always stretching them too far. But with our increase in profits, I can afford agents dedicated to the slums.”
Lance blinked. Was this a trick to get him to become the leader? Slowly introducing new people until he guided Lance into taking over entirely? But Derek and Kaela had people, and they hadn’t taken over. Lance bit his lip, and the beast purred again, urging him to accept.
The slums had been such a nice part of the city once, a humble section full of life and vigor. If he could gain some control over the inner slums with his own people, maybe there would be a chance of one day restoring them—if not to their former glory, then to something newer and better.
“Okay,” Lance said. “I’ll give it a shot. Only a few people, right?”
Eric nodded. “It’s primarily to keep an eye on the gang activity in the inner slums, and that will leave more of Derek’s men to keep an eye on the city itself.” He nudged Lance. “Does my consultant approve?”
Lance chuckled. “Yeah… Yeah, your consultant approves.”
“Good. Now let’s stop the business babble and get on to the real reason I came here.”
“Oh no.”
Eric laughed. “How do you like your gift?”
Lance raised an eyebrow. “That’s why you sneaked through my security system in the middle of the night? To ask me if I liked the dagger that I already told you I loved?”
Eric shrugged. “Is that so hard to believe?”
“With you… I guess not.” Lance scoffed, but he couldn’t hide his smile. It fell as he looked down at the fox handle. “Why did she like foxes so much?”
Eric crossed his arms, his smile turning warm. “She thought they were cute and smart. She always dreamed of having one as a pet. And she was so much like one herself. You should have seen how clever that girl was when it came to scamming people.” He chuckled as he stood, leaning against Lance’s dresser. “One time, she got a part-time job at this store. The manager was a real piece of work, so she had me go in there and pretend to rob the place on her first night. She gave me all the money in the register, gave them a false description, and quit the next day because she was ‘scared to work there any longer’.” He laughed harder than Lance had ever seen, bracing himself against the wall for support as he wiped a tear from his eye. “I swear, that was the smartest and luckiest girl I knew.”
“Hence the fox,” Lance said.
Eric nodded. “Hence the fox.”
A silence settled between them before a thought popped into Lance’s head. “How’s George?”
“He’s doing well. Has a nice influx of patients coming in, more than he did in Agni.”
“Did he take the offer?”
Eric frowned. “He agreed to be our personal doctor, but he didn’t agree to taking information from his patients to give to us. At least, not unless it’s something extremely serious, like another Caleb situation.”
Lance smiled. That was just like George. “Well, I for one respect his decision.”
Eric rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I guess I do too, that old codger.”
A knock sounded on the front door, and a voice spoke. “Are we supposed to stand here all night, or are you going to let us in?”
Lance stood. “Is that Kaela?”
“Don’t get mad,” Eric said. “I have one more surprise for you. Prepare to be very embarrassed.”
Lance called out to Eric, but he’d already left the room. His heart skipped a beat as the possibilities ran through his head.
What horrid thing could he possibly have planned?
Seconds later, an orange light flickered from the hallway, and Eric strolled in, holding a tray of sandwiches. He flipped the light on, a party hat slanted on his head.
Oh God, it’s worse than I thought.
“Happy birthday to you,” sang three voices in unison as Kaela walked in behind Eric, holding several bottles of soda. She wore a hat of her own and blew into a party horn. “Happy birthday to you!”
“Happy birthday, dear Lancelot!” Derek came in behind Kaela, a large cake held in his hands, dozens of candles perched atop it. He set the cake down on a small table he was carrying with him. Lance buried his face in his hands, peeking through his fingers and laughing at the image of a spider in its web, drawn in frosting on top of the cake. The blood rushed to his face, and he knew it was beet red. He swore the beast laughed at him.
“Happy birthday to you!”
Kaela blew the horn again, and Lance prayed the redness would leave his face.
“Wow, I haven’t seen a man that red since the Rose first opened.” Kaela laughed and set the bottles down.
Derek placed his hands on his hips and said, “Go ahead and make a wish, Lance.”
Lance laughed as he ran a hand through his hair. “You people are insane.” The beast seemed happy as well, and a warmth surged through Lance that he hadn’t felt in a long time. “Is today my actual birthday?”
Eric picked off a piece of a sandwich and popped it into his mouth. “That it is, Lancelot.” He licked his fingers. “When was the last time you celebrated your birthday?”
Lance scratched his head as he racked his brain. “I got a muffin with a candle in it at the orphanage once.”
“Ouch,” Kaela said. “That’s cold. Well, if I were you, I’d blow out those candles, make that wish, and eat the hell out of some cake.”
Lance laughed again, looking at the many candles on the cake, tempted to pinch himself in case he was dreaming. “Thanks, guys… You’re the best.” He meant it, and after the events of earlier today, he squeezed his fists and refused to let the tears roll from his eyes as he leaned forward and closed them.
I wish… that no matter what happens, even if we get on each other’s nerves, that we’ll always be friends. No… family. Family, yeah. I like that.
Lance opened his eyes and blew the candles out, a puff of smoke dancing from each one. The room erupted with shouts and clapping, and Lance’s face went red again. The beast purred. Or, actually, that was his stomach rumbling. But the beast did chirp and move around excitedly.
“Alright, let’s get this cake cut. Lance, which piece do you want?”