MCBRID HEADED FOR HIS office, glad he was still alive and that Conguise hadn’t ordered Charlie’s execution. He stopped at the door, his hand on the knob. He was faster and stronger than Almightys but he was no match for Aranea18. He had Almighty ears, so he couldn’t shift them, but he had a Guard’s hearing and he used every bit of it to listen for any sound. Araneas were a quiet creature but they did make noise when they moved. It was an eerie skittering sound of claws on tile, but today there was nothing but the office machines. He opened the door a crack. She could be waiting. When hungry she’d never been the patient type, always eager to attack and feed, but between feedings, she’d sit in the corner and study him and the Guards, watching for weaknesses and opportunities like the one she’d been given today.

The body bag was in the cage where Louis had left it. McBrid’s sweaty palm slipped off the doorknob as he walked into the office, closing the door behind him. On second thought. He opened the door, propping a chair against it. It never hurt to leave an escape, not that she’d let him get away but maybe someone would hear him like he’d heard Charlie.

He moved toward the enclosure, his nerves humming with warning. His hand shook as he unlocked the cage, his eyes never leaving the bag. He stepped inside. Any movement, even the slightest whisper, would send him fleeing to safety, but the bag remained still. He bent, his body hovering over her. If she attacked now, he’d have no chance. His heart pounded in his ears, blocking all other sound. He lifted the bag. She was amazingly light. Louis had said as much but he hadn’t truly understood. Most dead things seemed to weigh more as if burdened by the missing spirit but not Aranea18. Of course, he’d never lifted her when alive. He wouldn’t be here if he’d tried, but he’d assumed she’d be heavier. She’d been exceedingly strong and that usually meant muscle.

He carried her to the table. None of the other females had made it through the metamorphosis. They’d died in their host shell—mutated and changed a little, but mostly Servant. The eight males…Well, there hadn’t been much left of them to study. Aranea18 had not only sucked out their juices but she’d annihilated their bodies, pulverizing them into dust. He’d assumed she’d done it on purpose, but perhaps once dead they were just fragile and had dissipated under her.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

His hand trembled on the bag’s zipper. This was the moment. She could be waiting, unable to escape. He slid the zipper down a fraction. Nothing moved. He unzipped it fully and stared at her corpse. Alive she’d been beautiful and deadly but now she looked small and weak. Her legs curled around her body as if hiding herself. Her abdomen was flat, empty with hunger and death. He touched one of her legs. The black bristles were soft like hair. He’d assumed they’d be hard like a wire brush. He gently moved her leg away from her face and a piece snapped off.

“Damn.” He placed it on the table. She was even more delicate than he’d imagined. He reached into the bag and lifted her out, pushing the bag to the floor and placing her on the table next to her leg. He tried to move her other legs away from her body without breaking them, but they all snapped—brittle like fall leaves. He stacked them next to the other one.

Her large fangs were filled with amber fluid. Today, he’d manage to save his job and his life, but next time he might not be so lucky. He needed a better insurance policy. Having copies of his notes stashed in numerous safe deposit boxes, would buy him time, but it wouldn’t free him from Conguise. Only death would do that.

He wrapped his hand around a fang. It was hard, like a tooth and it didn’t break away like her legs had. He yanked but it didn’t budge. He needed that fluid. With this poison he could create a weapon, one that might kill Conguise before the professor put him inside the belly of a beast. He pulled harder. His hand, slippery from sweat, slid down the fang and his finger brushed against the tip.

“Ouch!” He let go, shaking the small drop of blood from his finger. “Damn. Those are sharp.” The room spun and he wobbled, suddenly very sleepy. Drugs. She’d drugged her victims. He stumbled toward the door. If she were faking, pretending to be dead…No, he’d broken off her legs. She was dead. He dropped to his knees—but if she weren’t he would be.