Demon Bound

after the Ascension, he and a few other novices had flown out over the sea, just to see if it ended. They’d given up after two weeks—at the same speed, they’d have circled the Earth eight times.
    It was just as empty below the surface. Jake didn’t know how far he’d followed the gigantic, submerged column that was Caelum’s base, but he hadn’t hit bottom. And though he must have swum dozens of miles underwater, Caelum’s sun had penetrated even to those depths, lighting his way.
    There were stories about Guardians who were still diving, still flying—spending their immortality looking for the end.
    If the stories were true, they must be flippin’ nutcases by now.
    Jake grimaced and looked over his shoulder at the city. He couldn’t see Alice’s home behind the taller buildings nearer the water, but he almost expected to find spiders creeping up, preparing to make him pay for the insult to their mommy.
    Yeah, he’d fucked that up but good.
    But damn if he knew why. Halfway across her courtyard, Jake had realized it hadn’t just been a stupid thing to say aloud—it’d been wrong to boot.
    He’d always assumed his hormones were partially to blame for the crap that came out of his mouth. But in the forty-five minutes he’d spent with her, his only sexual thought had been a passing curiosity about spider reproduction—and yet he’d still managed to set a new record in dickery.
    Unfortunately for them both, he couldn’t stop thinking about that temple, and everything in that badass museum she called her quarters. They’d just have to get used to each other.
    Something tickled the nape of his neck. Jake spun around, slapping at his shoulders, his hair. His fingers brushed a strand of . . . web? A spider leg?
    With a shudder, he yanked it away from his skin—and ripped a hole in the neck of his shirt.
    A cotton thread was pinched between his fingers. Jake stared at it, disbelieving. Jesus Christ in Heaven. He’d crawled through jungles without giving spiders a second thought. He’d taken bullets to his head. He’d tracked nosferatu, nephilim, and demons—and killed one.
    Why was he going girly over a string?
    Hell. Maybe spending more time with the Black Widow would be good for him.

    Alice fed the spiders, bathed, and settled her nerves before she heard the novice’s return. Two hours. She moved to her front doors, musing that Jake must have been surrounded by passive and forgiving people during his formative years if he thought that was enough time for tempers to cool.
    Or he was just clever. He waited on the opposite side of Remus and Romulus’s web, and when Alice emerged from her quarters, he said, “There’s no hourglass. Just these red dots.”
    So these will be our safe zones, Alice thought. Arachnids and artifacts.
    “Only the females have the hourglass mark,” she said.
    Jake leaned his shoulder against the column. A casual pose, but his alert gaze didn’t leave her face. “So they’re just two guys sharing a web. Alone.”
    “It’s for their safety.” At his questioning look, she explained, “Only the females live upstairs. Remus and Romulus will sire the next generation, but unless I rescue them after each mating . . .” Alice shrugged lightly. “Well.”
    “A good way to go, though.”
    “Better than some, I suppose.”
    “You suppose ? Then you obviously haven’t had—” He stopped. Started again with “Did you take a bath?”
    A laugh startled from her. “How on Earth did you decide that question was preferable to your original statement?”
    “It’s why I’m here.” He shook his head. “Not to bathe you, but—Where’d you get the hot water?”
    He’d already leapt out of their safe zone, but Alice followed him, curious now to where this led. “Irena’s smithy.”
    “So you brought it from Earth in your hammerspace? That’s a good idea.”
    “Indeed. But—”
    “I thought you might be going to Seattle. For Charlie’s thing at Cole’s.”
    Another leap. But was this a new direction? “I am.”
    “I came here to see, but I couldn’t tell if you were going, because you’re still wearing that black thing. But the air’s humid, so you must have taken a bath.”
    Guardians could remove dirt from their bodies and clothing by vanishing it into their cache—so Jake apparently thought that the only reason a Guardian woman might bathe was to prepare for a party.
    Amused now, Alice said, “I did.”
    He sighed. “Look, I just didn’t want to