Page 12 of The Spider Queen
He nodded. “You’re letting me know what works for you. I like that about you, Spider Girl.”
I looked at him, weighing his words. They rang sincere. “Let me text Anita, okay? So she doesn’t worry.” I reached into my back pocket and got out my phone. I sent her a quick text, got her reply of a thumbs-up emoji, and then put my phone away. “Where’s this place you’re taking me?” I wondered aloud as we walked side by side, away from his house and the party. Though I’d just met him, he didn’t scream serial killer. Then again, that was how they lured innocent victims. I really should’ve remembered to buy pepper spray.
“We’re going to a junk shop,” he said.
“A what?”
“A junk shop. It’s in the Market area.”
“What kind of junk shop is open at ten at night?”
“The coolest kind,” he assured me. “So, where are you from?”
“Really? You’re going to ask me something that generic?”
“You’re right. That was a bad use of my twenty questions. Okay, tell me the food you hate the most. And it’s not allowed to be Brussels sprouts. Everyone hates Brussels sprouts.”
“I don’t,” I protested.
He smirked. “Of courseyoulike Brussels sprouts.”
“If you douse them in butter and cheese, how can they be bad?”
“Fair point.”
“I hate mussels.”
“Mussels.”
“They’re chewy.” I wrinkled my nose.
“I’ll give you that.”
“Now you.”
“I don’t hate anything.”
“Not possible. You have to hate something.”
“Why?”
“Why?” I repeated. “Because those are the rules.”
He laughed. “Fine. I hate spaghetti with tomato sauce.”
“You’re not allowed to be crazy,” I teased. “Spaghetti with tomato sauce? What’s wrong with you?”
“I always get it on my shirt. I’m clumsy.”
“Yeah, right. I don’t buy that.”
“It’s true. I’m so clumsy that my teammates call me Klutzo.”
We arrived at the Market area, and I registered that we took no time to get there. Hunter was easy to talk to—he put me at ease. He stopped walking and gestured to a dark storefront.
“You sure it’s open?” I asked, trying to peer into the window. “I can’t see any lights on in there.”
“Oh, it’s open. Trust me.” He rapped on the door three times. There was the sound of wood scraping, and then a pair of eyes appeared through a slit in the door.
