Demon Bound

joking or lecturing. “And does she have a name?”
    “He. It is Nero,” Alice said, and with a small push of her Gift, she urged him onto her palm. It would confuse and disturb him to remain in his web while she gave her demonstration.
    “A male? Aren’t they usually—” He lifted his hand, thumb and forefinger a short distance apart.
    “Smaller than females? Yes. Shall I introduce you to his mother?” When he gave her another of those sharp glances, she relented. “It is the vampire blood.”
    “You’ve made vampire spiders?”
    Now it was her turn to wonder if he was serious. He should know that wasn’t a possibility. “They don’t transform, just as animals and insects don’t if they drink vampire blood.”
    “Can you imagine vampire mosquitoes? Or immortal, blood-sucking ants who make you feel all sexy when they bite?”
    “No. I can’t.”
    He was undeterred. “Picnics would never be the same.”
    “But rather popular, one would think.”
    Self-reproach instantly followed the thoughtless response. Her dismay was compounded when Jake’s blank expression of surprise broke into a grin.
    That would simply not do.
    And if humor put him at ease, then she would be ponderous. “The blood offers these spiders strength and longevity. Furthermore, the male and female offspring are of equal size—though both male and female are larger than natural spiders. And there is also this.”
    She hooked her forefinger around a thread near the center of the orb and pulled. The web bowed slightly—then it held. She applied more pressure, and the silk threatened to bite into her finger.
    It sprang back into place when she let go.
    “You’re kidding.” Jake looked from the web to Nero combing his tufted legs on her right hand. “Can I?”
    “You may,” she said, then caught his wrist when he reached for a radial thread. “Not there. See how it’s flat? They’re like razors. Try the spirals. They’re thicker—and round.”
    “Here?” At her nod, he slipped two fingers around a strand. The muscles in his forearms flexed as he pulled. His teeth set, and his brows lowered in concentration. The frame creaked and listed toward them.
    Men were such strange creatures. “You are strong enough to break it,” Alice said when she smelled blood. “But lacking protection, not without damage to yourself. A blade will cut through, however.”
    Jake released the thread, and righted the frame with a push of his hand.
    “Okay,” he admitted as Alice returned Nero to his web. “That was worth coming in to see.”
    “Very good then.” Alice injected as much dismissal into her tone as she could, satisfied that it hid the delight his acknowledgment had wrought. “It was kind of you to—”
    “But,” he interrupted with a smile and enough charm to set her teeth on edge, “I’m here about the temple in Tunisia.”
    Of course. “An apology isn’t necessary.”
    “Well, no. I’m—”
    “Then we agree.” She strode toward the main chamber.
    “Agree about what?” Jake came after her. “Oh, I get you. Sure, I’m sorry for kissing you , but I’m not sorry for . . . And there’s no flippin’ chance this will come out right.”
    She frowned and faced him again.
    Though his laughter never escaped, his amusement rolled through his psychic scent with the subtlety of a boulder. He flattened his lips and leaned his shoulder against the archway. He glanced up at the ceiling, then back at the webs. A wooden toothpick appeared in his hand, and he twirled it between his fingers.
    Finally, he looked at her. “So, spiders are safe to discuss, right? And everything else is off-limits.”
    Alice lifted her brows.
    “All right. I can do that.” Jake looked toward the spiders again, then his gaze shifted to the room beyond. “So, do you have any . . . Okay, I probably shouldn’t ask if you have—”
    “Black widows?”
    He slipped the toothpick into the corner of his mouth and dug his hands into his pockets. “Yeah.”
    “Thirty in the upper levels of this building.” She paused. “You must have a dog.”
    His forehead creased in puzzlement. “No.”
    “But I have heard that in San Francisco, the woman who doles out your assignments calls you Ethan’s puppy.”
    His short laugh was not the abashed response she’d anticipated. Her frown deepened.
    “That’s true,” he said. “But coming from Lilith, ‘puppy’ is practically a declaration of love.”
    “How so?”
    “Well, there are two things in