I reach out to grab him, but Damon catches my arm, shaking his head slightly. His expression says everything: if we force Amir away, we might trigger something worse. The spider’s eyes follow Amir’s every move, its front legs lifting slightly as if in greeting—or preparation to strike.
Kade looks at Damon and me, her face a mask of horror and frustration.
“Fuck!” she screams at the top of her lungs. “We all know that if anything happens to him, so much as a scratch, Anora will lose her shit.”
She pauses; her eyes locked on Amir’s back as he approaches the creature.
“Literally.”
48
Amari
The moment the last human stumbles through the door of the sheriff’s station, the street falls eerily quiet. It’s just us now—me standing in the front with Damon and Kade flanking my sides, staring down this abomination that threatens everything I’ve come to love. Behind us, the sheriff’s station is packed with terrified humans seeking shelter, their fear almost tangible.
I look at the creature blocking the street—this monstrous spider, easily the size of a small house, its legs spanning wider than a semi-truck. Its exoskeleton has an unnatural sheen that tells me this isn’t one of Carla’s children or anything born from nature. This thing was created, forged in some lab to serve a singular purpose: destroy.
Amir stands alone, separated from us by about twenty yards, his posture relaxed as if he’s merely facing a minor inconvenience rather than a monster that could tear him apart. The confidence of a king—or perhaps the arrogance of one.
My gaze shifts between Amir and the sheriff’s station where Carla is helping the last of the humans inside. My instincts scream to get to her, to protect her, but I know that abandoning this position means leaving Amir to face this alone—has bigger consequences.
“We need a plan,” Kade whispers, her eyes never leaving the creature that’s slowly advancing on Amir. “That thing is cloaked in magic—I can sense it.”
“No time,” Damon says, adjusting his cufflinks as if we’re about to attend a business meeting instead of a battle. “It’s moving too fast.”
I glance at them both, my mind racing. The humans are secure, but Carla is still vulnerable. I need to keep her safe, but this monster needs to be dealt with first. And suddenly, I know exactly what to do.
Drawing myself up to my full height, I call out in a commanding voice through the buildings lining the street.
“Medina Shadow! Show yourselves!”
For a moment, nothing. Then, movement—faint at first, then undeniable. From the cracks in the pavement, beneath sewer grates, behind lamp posts and shop signs, my men appearing like shadows solidifying into shape. Each one takes position with perfect timing, forming a unified line any military commander would admire.
Carla’s children appear first, spilling from spaces that seem impossibly small for their size. Tofi crawls to me immediately, her burgundy body marked with the familiar patterns that set her apart, as she positions herself protectively by my side. I place my hand on her head, feeling the subtle vibration of her contentment beneath my palm. “Daddy’s girl,” I murmur, a smile touching my lips despite the gravity of our situation. She taps her front legs in response; her many eyes fixed on the monstrous spider ahead.
Within seconds, the street fills with my soldiers—vampire warriors loyal to the cause, each one prepared to give everything. They form a battalion in tight formation, weapons drawn, faces hard with focus and readiness. I hadn’t summoned them at first, hoping to resolve this quietly, but that time has passed.
I hear Amir’s appreciative chuckle from where he stands.
“Marvelous,” he calls back to me, his eyes bright with approval. “Absolutely marvelous, Amari.”
The monster shifts, slamming its massive legs against the street with enough force to crack the stones. The impact sends vibrations through the ground, and I feel Tofi tremble beside me—not in fear, but in response. Around me, Tofi, Moria, Kemnebi, and the other arachnids begin tapping their legs in rhythmic patterns, transmitting images between themselves and toward the giant spider.
They’re trying to communicate with it.
The creature pauses, its multiple eyes swiveling toward Carla’s children. For a moment, hope flickers—perhaps they can reach it, reason with it somehow. But then the monster rears back, its front legs pawing the air before crashing down again. A hiss erupts from it, so loud it rattles windows along the street.
“It’s not working,” I say, mostly to myself. “This isn’t a creature born of fate.”
“I’m going to teleport him,” Kade announces suddenly, her eyes fixed on Amir who hasn’t moved an inch despite the creature’s display of aggression.
Before I can stop her, she’s running toward him. The monster turns, sensing her movement. Amir, seeing Kade approaching, snaps his fingers—a gesture that should have eviscerated the creature on the spot. I’ve seen him reduce enemies to ash with that simple motion.
But nothing happens.
Amir stares at his hand in disbelief, then glares at the creature with wariness. The monster responds by shooting a stream of thick webbing directly at them.
“Father!” Kade screams, her hands already raised as she prepares to teleport them both to safety.