Page 93 of Guardians of the Assassins
Morgan peered around the rest of the room, but no one else would meet her gaze.
Not one single person volunteered.
While disappointed, she wasn’t surprised. They weren’t fighters. It was too much to expect?—
“I’ll go.” Mirasole lifted her chin and glanced at the rest of the room with both dislike and resignation.
Morgan glanced at the slim woman and almost protested, worried that she wouldn’t be able to keep up. The last thing Morgan wanted was for the girl to be hurt or killed.
“Don’t,” Mirasole warned and crossed her arms. “For this to work, you’ll need someone who is familiar with the area. None of these cowards will go with you, so you’re stuck with me. Take it or leave it.”
As much as she wanted to argue, Morgan couldn’t refute the logic.
They needed help.
“Very well, but you will stay with us at all times. No wandering away. No running unless we run. I don’t want you to get hurt, understand?”
“Of course.” Mirasole clicked her tongue and shook her head. “I’m not an idiot.”
Morgan grinned at the spunky woman. “You’ve been here since the attacks started. You must have thought of a hundred different ways to get rid of them. What do you suggest?”
“Fire,” she replied immediately. “They don’t like fire. I believe one spider is in charge of all of them. If we can find the queen and get rid of her, the rest of them will scatter or eventually die off.”
Morgan glanced at Atlas and Caedmon and lifted her brows. “Any idea what a queen spider would look like?”
Caedmon shook his head, and Atlas had nothing to add either. “No, but I have a feeling that we’ll know when we see it.”
It took them twenty minutes to create a dozen torches. Asthey headed toward the door, Caedmon stepped in her way. “Are you sure you want to stay?”
It was obvious that he wanted to leave and continue their mission, his concern for her safety first, and she couldn’t resist the urge to lay her hand on his chest, warmed by his concern. “If you were alone, you would never turn your back on them.”
He took a deep breath, then conceded defeat with a nod. When he opened the door, Atlas tossed five of the lit torches out first with a precision that should leave them room to stand in the center of a ten-foot circle.
The hiss of hundreds of spiders made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, and she shivered in revulsion as the little critters scurried back into the darkness. Knowing they only had seconds, the four of them shot out the door. They barely got outside before it was slammed shut behind them, and the heavy bar scraped against the wood as they secured it.
There was no going back now, even if they wanted.
She very much doubted that the asshole would allow them back anyway.
They skidded to the stop in the center of the circle when the spiders began to skitter toward them. They were fucking massive, six to eight inches in size. If she included the feet, it made them look nearly a foot and a half wide. Hundreds of black eyes latched on to them, looking like liquid marbles, and she took an involuntary step back.
Atlas grabbed her arm and quickly pulled her back to the center of the circle. “Steady.”
Mirasole began lighting the rest of the torches, sticking them in the ground and waving them at the spiders when they became bold and ventured too close.
The light allowed her to get a better look at what they faced.
Firelight reflected back at her from thousands upon thousands of black, bulbous eyes from the hundreds of spiders. They paced in front of them, the whole ground rippling in the darkness, and she grimaced, knowing she would see them in her nightmares for years to come.
It was creepy to be in the center of the swarm. They began to gather around the circle, crawling over each other to get close, but they weren’t like the spiders on Earth. There was an intelligence in their eyes, like an animal stalking their prey. A few of them in the back pushed up with their legs until they were balanced on the very tips, straightened to nearly two feet high.
“They must be able to jump at least six feet or more.” Morgan shot a look at Atlas, and he nodded in understanding. They weren’t safe. They could easily jump over the flames and get within the circle. “We need to locate the queen, and fast.”
The guys lifted the torches higher, swinging them over the mass of spiders, when Mirasole gave a shrill scream. Morgan whirled to see her fears confirmed—five spiders had indeed leapt over the flames, working in concert.
Mirasole had dropped her torch, frantically struggling to pry one of the eight-legged freaks from her chest, desperate to keep it away from her vulnerable neck and face. Another one was on her back, while two more were on her legs, busily working to encase her in a milky web. Even as Morgan leapt toward Mirasole, the last spider tracked her movement and scuttled to the side, lurching back on his haunches, ready to launch itself at her if she tried to interfere.
Atlas grabbed her out of midair, pulling her tight to his chest, and they watched in horror as Mirasole lost her balance and toppled past the ring of light. She was immediately covered by a wiggling black mass, her screams muffled as she was dragged off into the darkness.
