Chapter Thirty-Four – We Catch the Spider #2
Jay kicks the chair toward the center of the room with Aranya still in it.
He jolts from the impact, clutching his ruined hand to his chest. Shane zip-ties his ankles to the chair legs, tight enough to bite.
Jay grabs both his wrists and ties them both to the chair arms, Aranya howling like a wounded dog when Jay forces his broken hand down.
I drag another chair across the floor and place it in front of Aranya. Then I sit.
“Now,” I say. “Our plan is to wait and trade your life for Jo’s.”
It’s a lie. I’ll use him, sure. If things go sideways and we need a bargaining chip, or a shield, or a distraction, I’ll put him in play. But the only way he’s leaving this warehouse is in handcuffs or dead.
He’s still panting from the pain in his hand, skin damp with sweat.
I lean forward. “But we don’t need all of you for that. So I’ve got no problem delivering you with a few missing pieces.”
“Maybe an eye,” I offer. “You’ve got two. I’m sure you can spare one.”
I tilt my head slightly. “Maybe your cock. I don’t think a man who does what you do to women should ever have the chance to be inside one.”
He flinches.
“So if you want to stay a whole man, you’d better start sweetening the deal. You can talk,” I say, voice flat. “Or I can start tearing off whatever part I don’t think you deserve.”
Shane steps up behind me. His voice is like ice. “Why did you take Jo?”
Aranya blinks, then swallows. “Nyras are profitable,” he says. “The price is high. But they’re hard to get. Too protected. You were going to be arrested, so—”
So she’d be vulnerable. Alone.
We thought they took her to break us, to make us back off once convicting us failed, but we were wrong. They would’ve taken her either way. They tried to bury us in court, yeah, but taking Jo wasn’t just about stopping us; it was about money too.
“How long ago did you plan it?” I ask.
Aranya shifts. He tries to roll his shoulders but can’t with Jay’s hand pressing down. “A couple of weeks. Since you started calling the U.S. Attorney. We knew we’d have to… handle the trial.”
So they had someone inside listening. How else would they know we were even making those calls?
“But we won the case,” Jay says, voice sharp. “We weren’t arrested. ”
“The plan was already in motion,” Aranya mutters. His eyes flick to mine, then away. “The offer was too high to walk away from.”
“What did you do to her after the courthouse?” I snap.
“Nothing,” he answers quickly. “One of my people there is a nurse. She sedated her in the car. That’s all.”
I stare at him.
We let her go alone. We let her walk into that hallway. This piece of shit in front of me made it happen, but we made it possible.
I draw a breath. Hold it. Let it out slow.
“Now,” I say. “Let’s talk about another nyra you took from me.”
He stiffens.
“Grace Williams,” I continue. “Missing after an appointment with you in Chicago. August fourth, two thousand seven.”
He runs his tongue across his upper lip, nervous.
I lean in close, inches from his face. “You have one second to start talking, or you’ll lose an eye.”
He crumbles a little. “She was my patient. I didn’t know nyras were worth that much back then. But she talked. About the other nyra at home. Things changing. I watched her. Her aegis dropped her early. Picked her up late. Always waiting on the curb alone.”
His breath hitches. “So I tested it. Put her profile out. The offers came fast. Bigger than I’d ever seen. I arranged it after a session.”
My voice cuts through the ringing in my head. “What happened to her?”
Aranya glances down, then away. “I heard she died a few weeks later. Went into heat. The buyer thought human men could handle it...”
He trails off, but I already know the rest. She didn’t have her mates with her, just pain, until her body gave out. I’ve always known she was dead, but hearing him say it is different. It settles behind my ribs like a knife sunk too deep.
I struggle to breathe, then I feel them: two hands, one on each of my shoulder. Jay and Shane, not holding me back, just holding me.
I breathe. Once. Twice. Three times.
Then, I look Aranya in the eyes again. “I will not kill you right now,” I say. “But you’ll pay.”
I step out of the office. I can’t look at him for another second. Jay and Shane stay behind. I don’t think Aranya’s in any shape to move, but we’re not about to get sloppy now.
I walk to the far end of the warehouse and slide down the wall, sitting on the cold concrete floor, back pressed to brick. And I wait.
Some time later, my phone buzzes.
A message from Josh: We are positioned.
I stare at the screen for a second. I don’t know who we mean — his pack for sure, maybe more .
I text back. Can you get rid of the cars in the parking lot? Discreetly. Leave only the silver sedan.
I don’t know if the people bringing Jo can recognize Aranya’s vehicles, and I prefer not risking it. One wrong detail could make them bolt, and we only get one shot.
Josh replies seconds later: On it.
I push off the floor and head back to the office. I catch Jay and Shane’s eyes through the open door and motion them out.
When we’re far enough that Aranya can’t hear, I speak. “Solomons are here. They’re clearing the parking lot, leaving only Aranya’s sedan.”
Jay nods. “I think we should be outside when they show,” he says. “Coordinate with the others. Jump the car as soon as it parks.”
Shane nods. “Agreed.”
I glance back toward the glass. “But first, make sure the fucker can’t move an inch,” I say.
When we enter the office again, Jay grabs the duct tape from the desk and wraps one strip around Aranya’s chest, binding him to the chair back, then presses another strip firmly across his mouth.
He glares at us, but he doesn’t make a sound.
We exit the warehouse together. Shane pulls the busted door mostly shut behind us. It’s not perfect. Up close, you can see the warped frame and the broken hinge, but I don’t care. We just need it to look undisturbed long enough for whoever’s coming not to get spooked before they park.
Jay glances up and whistles low, just once. A figure shifts from behind a delivery truck across the lot. Solomon.
We jog toward him, taking cover under the truck too.
“All the garrison is here,” he says. “Your nyra’s uncles too.” He nods toward the far end of the block. “We’ve got eyes on every approach.”
I look around, clocking the ones I can see from here. One pack is stationed in the alley on the west side, tucked behind a stacked set of pallets. Three more figures crouch on the roof of the adjacent warehouse, their silhouettes barely visible against the sky.
We wait.
Ten minutes. Then fifteen. Every muscle in my body is tight, coiled like wire.
Then headlights swing around the corner, low and steady. Another silver sedan, the same model that rounded our house for days.
“That’s it,” Jay mutters, already crouched lower.
I nod once, eyes locked on the car as it rolls into the lot. Shane lets out a sharp breath. His eyes track the vehicle like a wolf scenting blood.
The windows have a deep black tint, no way to see through the glass, but the lily scent hit me and my heart skips a beat. It’s faint, it’s distant, but I know it’s her .
My heart bolts, my body trembles, my head spins. She’s there, almost within my reach.
Shane jolts beside me, reacting to her scent too. Jay inhales hard and exhales like he’s been hit. I can feel their bodies shaking, just as mine.
We’ll take her back.
We’ll take her back.
We’ll take her back.
I force my body to release calming pheromones. In one second, Shane and Jay are breathing deep and slow too. It’s hard to focus, it’s hard to calm down, but we need our heads clear now more than ever.
We exchange glances, nodding to each other in sync.
The sedan stops in the parking lot. The headlights cut, the engine ticks. Then stillness. No one gets out.
We hold.
The driver’s door opens, and a man calmly steps out, with one hand on the door, the other in his jacket. Then the passenger gets out slowly, a taller man with a gun tucked behind his waistband. Still, no one opens the back.
They’re hesitating. Or stalling. Maybe they think Aranya will walk out any second and take Jo himself. Maybe this is just how they do handoffs.
When the driver pulls a phone from his pocket, I know we need to move.
Jay vaults the side of the truck like a loaded spring. Shane flanks right, silent and fast. I’m right behind them.
The car's driver barely registers us before Jay hits him with one clean strike to the temple. He drops like a bag of bones, body slumping into the gravel.
The passenger lunges, gun half-drawn, but Shane’s already there. Two hits: one to the ribs, one to the face, and the man folds, choking on blood.
I’m at the rear door before they hit the ground.
I wrench it open, and she’s there.
Slumped against the seat. Wrists and ankles bound with zip-ties. Eyes half-lidded.
My arms go around her instinctively, and I yank her from the car.
Jay’s beside me in a second. Then Shane. They press close, each of us trying to touch her. Hold her. Prove to ourselves she’s real.
The hum in our chests is wild, rising through bone and breath. It wraps around her, around us, filling the air with something low and living. We support her together, three bodies holding one.
“Jo,” I whisper. “We’re here. We’ve got you. You’re safe now.”
She doesn’t answer, but a tear slides down her cheek.