Arachna

Lance leaned more of his weight against the railing, despite how it froze his fingers.

Eric walked in front of him, never getting far ahead, even with how slowly Lance walked. The cane clacked softly against the ground, and the sound reverberated throughout the tunnels.

Neither of them spoke. Lance ignored Eric’s every attempt at conversation.

Kaela and Derek were likely getting another shower and snacking while waiting for them to return, and here he and Eric were, scouring the rotten tunnels for someone that probably wasn’t down here.

Why did you bring me here? Lance asked the beast. It didn’t make a sound and instead continued swimming around in his gut.

The only living things they’d encountered were the occasional rats. Unless Daniel had gained the ability to turn into one, they were wasting their time.

“So Kaela was rather invested in that conversation you two were having,” Eric said after the long silence—one last desperate attempt to get Lance to talk, surely.

Lance sighed and took the bait. “I had a feeling you were listening.”

“I didn’t exactly try to hide it from you.” He turned with a wolfish grin.

“I can’t believe you told her I was an operative for the CIA.”

Eric stopped and turned toward Lance. “I can’t believe she didn’t buy it… I must be losing my touch.”

“You realize that I could just tell her you’re my father.”

That wolf grin disappeared, and his eyes darkened. “No.” His mouth formed a tight line. “No, that would be a terrible idea. If anyone found out, even Kaela and Derek, then—”

“It would ruin your reputation? Make you look bad?” Lance scoffed and made to push by Eric, even as it hurt his leg to do so.

Eric’s arm went out, stopping him in his tracks. “Because if anyone found out that you’re my son, you would be in danger.”

Lance rolled his eyes. “As opposed to the danger you’ve already put me in? Making me drive recklessly through the city streets while Rotoya gave chase?” He gestured angrily at his leg. “You are the reason I have this injury, and you are the reason why I’m in this mess to begin with.” He pointed a finger in Eric’s face. “So don’t give me that crap. Don’t pretend like you’re some loving father that cares so much for his son. If you truly cared for me, you would’ve stayed out of my life entirely.”

“You’re seriously not going to let the car-chase thing go, are you?”

“No.”

“And I thought you were mad because I wasn’t in your life?”

“Shut up.”

Eric groaned and kept walking.

The beast whispered something, but Lance ignored it. His chest tightened as much as his fists. The continued whispering in his head didn’t help the frustration—the beast’s purrs and growls and words. With every day that passed, it seemed whatever was inside of him became more sentient. It wasn’t just adrenaline or survival instincts, the sudden rush turning him into a combat expert. That had been confusing enough. Now, it spoke to him, urged him to take actions, and discouraged him otherwise.

Lance ignored the sounds of the beast and continued forward. With every step, he threw himself deeper into his anger at Eric, who was silent behind him.

Every ladder they passed slowed Lance down as he considered climbing to the street. If Eric protested, it wouldn’t matter, not when he didn’t have leverage over him. But every time he considered it, the beast hissed a violent no and told him to keep going.

So he did, muttering a curse as he walked past each ladder. They continued walking until the quiet pattern of Eric’s footsteps stopped. Lance stilled and turned, a question already on his lips, but Eric held a hand up.

“Do you hear that?” he asked.

Lance tuned his ears for any sound other than the occasional drip of water. He nearly accused Eric of making another unfunny joke, but the look on his face was serious, focused, and… hopeful?

“Listen.”

Lance did so again, this time closing his eyes. Something was there. Faint whispers. At first, Lance thought it to be the beast, but the beast was swimming silently within him.

This whisper was human, worldly.

His heart skipped a beat. Had Caleb found them? Down here, of all places?

He opened his eyes to make sure Eric wasn’t making the noise, but he wasn’t. Instead, his mouth was twisted into a smile.

“That’s him,” Eric said. “It’s gotta be.”

“Who?” Lance already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it, to make sure it was real.

“Daniel.”

As if in response, the beast stirred. A warning to get ready, to prepare for a coming battle. Panic seized Lance, curling around his chest and tightening in a viselike grip. If it truly was Daniel, could he even survive a fight with him? He should’ve just climbed that ladder.

“Let’s go.” Eric dashed ahead of Lance.

Lance remained still, tempted to turn back. If he just turned around, he could climb the ladder and find his own way to the Rose. But the beast growled, and his body was tugged forward by an invisible force. An order to follow Eric.

He did. He cursed himself for doing it, but Lance followed Eric.

Lance’s leg ached as he pushed himself to reach Eric. He was putting too much weight on it. The beast kept encouraging him to move forward.

Lance followed the order and sped down the tunnel as quickly as he could, using the railing and the cane. When he caught up with Eric, he’d already stopped and angled his head to the ground with his eyes closed. Lance copied the action and listened. Hushed whispers of a man, too nonsensical to make out, came from their right. But no tunnel led to the source. Just pipes and wall.

Eric looked at him with a confused frown, and Lance stepped forward to convince him that there was no way to get through a wall. They could ignore the whispers, return to street level, and go to the Rose. A hot shower, a nice meal, and a long rest was all they needed.

But then Eric crouched, and he slid his hand along every inch of the tunnel wall. Around pipes and over concrete he searched until he gasped in excitement.

Lance’s jaw fell as Eric dug his fingers around a piece of the wall and pulled. Just like the small hideout in that alley, a panel made of concrete slid out an inch.

Eric smiled up at him, wild and free like an animal, and braced himself against the wall. He pulled with all his might, grunting as he slid the panel out inch by inch. Finally, it slid out entirely, and the thick panel fell to the side. The sound was deafening and echoed throughout the tunnels.

When the echoes faded, so did the whispers.

Lance waited for an attack. He stepped back, waiting for Daniel to slide out from the crawlspace and slice Eric’s neck open.

But nothing happened. Lance didn’t move, his heart pounding in his chest, his breathing out of control.

The whispers still did not return.

“Come on,” Eric said. He lowered himself to the floor and crawled through.

Lance grabbed his side before he could get halfway in, and Eric pulled himself back out.

“What?”

“You’re seriously going to crawl right through there? You have no idea what’s on the other side of that tunnel.”

Eric rolled his eyes. “Which is why I’m going to go find out.”

Stupid. Lance felt the word on his tongue, but he didn’t say it. “Even if that is Daniel, you are at a huge disadvantage crawling through there. Why not lure him out?”

Eric smiled. “Aw, so you don’t want me to get hurt?”

Lance almost slapped him. “I don’t want to be left alone in this hellhole with whatever is on the other side of that tunnel after me. How are you even going to fight it?”

Eric hummed. “You could always come with me.”

The beast purred in agreement. Lance shook his head. “No, I refuse. Let’s just get out of here. We know where he is, we can come back later.”

“And risk him leaving this hiding place? Who’s to say he doesn’t know we’ve found him?”

Lance groaned and rubbed his face as Eric crawled into the tunnel again. I hate you. He focused on the beast. But I think I hate you more. The beast growled.

Go, the beast hissed at Lance, and his body urged him forward.

His mind struggled, but before he knew it, Lance was facing the bottom of Eric’s shoes, crawling through the small, dingy tunnel.

“I hate you,” Lance whispered. “I hate you so much.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eric said. “I’ll buy you a lollipop when we get out of this. How’s that, champ?”

Lance sent him an obscene gesture, and though Eric didn’t see it, it made Lance feel better.

They crawled until Eric slid out from the tunnel and into a small square room. Lance crawled out behind him.

The room was pitch black until Eric flicked open his lighter. The room was small enough for the flame to light up all four walls. It was a perfect square, as if it had been cut out by a laser. The air chilled Lance to the bone, and his breath formed a cloud in front of him when he sighed, standing up and staying close to Eric, the cane tightly gripped in his hand. The cold bit deep into his leg.

Lance’s breath caught as he followed Eric’s blank stare.

He was right.

Daniel was crouched in a corner of the room, shaking and staring at them with dark-purple eyes.

“Well, well, well,” Eric said, and Lance almost hit him across the head for what he knew he was about to do. “Daniel Landreau, how have you been, my friend? It’s been a while, you know.” He laughed. “I thought you were dead, old friend… You know, I don’t blow up my base of operations for just anybody.”

Lance inched back toward the tunnel as Eric paced in front of Daniel, assessing him, gauging how much of a threat he was. As much as his body fought against it, Lance stayed close to that tunnel, prepared to dive through it at a moment’s notice.

“I…” Daniel started. His voice and body shook. “I r-remember y-you.” He looked up at Eric, no more than a lost child compared to what he’d been when Lance first met him. That confidence, that unwavering killer look in his eyes was gone.

Lance almost felt sorry for him.

Eric seemed to notice the innocent aura about him, and he stepped back, his guard lowering. “Why are you here?”

“B-brother came to m-me…” Daniel stuttered. “Told m-me I n-needed to h-hide.”

“Caleb?”

He nodded.

“What is this place?”

“B-brother used b-blood to… slice c-concrete.”

Eric stood straighter. “I see you have a bad case of the purple vein… but if you had burned up in that fire, you wouldn’t be here. How’d you escape?”

“Men… p-protected me.”

Eric was about to ask another question, but Daniel continued, “S-still burned m-my b-body.”

Eric glanced at Lance then held the lighter closer to Daniel. His skin was charred and gray yet almost moving, as if the nanobots were working even now in an attempt to heal him.

“Why did Caleb tell you to hide?” Eric asked.

Daniel was silent at first, but when Eric repeated the question, he answered. “B-brother… said I was in d-danger. N-needed to hide. Said once h-he c-came to get me, m-my men and I would have c-control over s-sister cities.”

Eric nodded then chuckled. He held his hand out, and Lance’s body urged him to toss the cane. He did so without meaning to, cursing the beast again.

“I don’t know how to tell you this, Daniel,” Eric said, drawing his cane blade. The flame of the lighter flickered shadows on the blade. “But your brother has taken over your little private army. I have a feeling he just wanted you out of the way.”

Daniel looked up at Eric again, his eyes sparkling with sadness. A pup betrayed by its master.

“Shame I have to kill you,” Eric continued, raising the blade. “But don’t worry… I’ll get revenge on Caleb for you.”

“P-please don’t,” Daniel begged, his hand held out.

“Eric,” Lance warned.

All they needed was a sample of the man’s blood. He didn’t seem like a threat anymore. He didn’t need to die.

“Sorry, pal,” Eric said. “Can’t take the risk of having you around to cause more trouble.”

The sword went down.

And Daniel caught it between his hands. His veins glowed brighter, and when he met Eric’s eyes, they too glowed, a bright purple.

“No,” Daniel said, his voice no longer shaky. He pushed the blade forward and kicked Eric, sending him flying into the opposite wall.

Lance dove for the crawlspace, but Daniel shoved him aside. Like Eric, he slammed against the opposite wall. His breath left him as Daniel slipped through the crawlspace much faster than he should’ve been able to. Eric was on his feet, and he spared Lance a worried glance before diving in after Daniel.

Lance forced air into his lungs and stood, adrenaline rushing through him. He dove in after Eric, the beast poised and readied to strike. Adrenaline coursed through him, easing some of the pain in his leg. When he crawled out from the tunnel, he gasped.

Daniel shoved Eric’s head below the murky water.

Lance didn’t think, didn’t know how he bounded over to them so quickly. He threw himself against Daniel, and the two of them slammed against the concrete wall. Eric’s gasps of air were barely audible over the blood rushing to Lance’s ears. Lance sent his foot into Daniel’s head. Purple splashed from his face, and a few teeth scattered across the floor.

Eric, out of breath, joined Lance’s side. His eyes were black as night but full of rage. He grabbed Daniel by the shirt and threw him into the water.

“Let’s see how you like it,” Eric said, a smile growing on his face.

But Daniel was already back on his feet, spitting blood into the water. His nose was broken, bent in a way that stirred Lance’s stomach. How are we going to take this guy down?

Eric drew his cane blade once again and charged. Daniel’s veins flashed, and the blade impaled the palm of his hand. The tip ended right at his eye, no more than a centimeter away from blinding him. Daniel shoved him away. Blade jutting from his palm, he swiped his hand at Eric. Eric dodged, but his movements were slow. He was tiring.

Water splashed, and the horrific smell of honey and sewage mixed. Lance held his breath and leapt forward. Daniel swiped again. Lance caught his wrist and struck Daniel’s face with his elbow. It did little to faze him but gave Eric just enough time to rip his blade out of Daniel’s hand.

Daniel hissed in pain, his veins flashing again. Before he knew it, Lance was thrown down the tunnel. He landed in the water and gagged as it entered his mouth, the taste sour and sickening. He spat out as much as he could and turned to join the fight again. But his leg protested, and he fell to his knees. The killing calm always helped, always worked; but his leg was too hurt to do anything, even with the beast giving him the advantage.

Eric was holding his own against Daniel, but worry covered his face.

Lance closed his eyes and breathed. The beast within coiled and hissed. He needed more. Needed to beat him. At this rate, they would be killed in this godforsaken sewer.

Let me breathe, the beast said, not in his head but his heart. From his very essence, it whispered, Give me room. Lance knew what it meant. He’d been allowing the beast to control him when his life was in danger, but he had never fully accepted it. Never allowed the beast any more room than the aid it provided. But just as it had said, with the little breathing room it had, they wouldn’t beat Daniel.

Eric was slammed against the wall, his blade sliding across the floor. Daniel pinned him, whispering something in his ear. Eric’s face melted in horror.

Fine, Lance thought. Do what you need to do.

It gave a pleased purr, and Lance stopped fighting. He didn’t make any attempts to resist as the beast stretched and hummed. But he only allowed so much. A surge of energy ran through him, a surge of strength. Then he cut it off, stopping the beast before it could get greedy.

It hissed, but Lance ignored it. A snapping sound came from his leg, and a terrible wave of pain crashed into him. He crumpled to the ground, hands going to his leg before his mind could order it. But the pain only lasted for a few seconds. And as his hands traveled up and down the leg, feeling the bone beneath, it stopped hurting. The bone didn’t feel broken anymore. But how?

No time, whispered the beast. Lance looked up again, newfound resolve filling his chest. Eric’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, and his struggling weakened. Daniel’s hands remained wrapped tightly around his father’s throat.

Lance dashed through the darkness, and with one swift grab, Eric’s blade was in his hand. He was fast, much faster than he’d ever been. Daniel only had time to look at Lance as he leapt.

Daniel’s mouth opened in a gasp as the blade penetrated his neck. Lance grabbed the cane’s body from the ground and flicked the scythe out. He whirled and sliced Daniel’s neck. The shocked expression remained for a breath, two breaths. Then the grip on Eric loosened, and Daniel’s body crumpled to the ground.

His head rolled into the water.

Before it could drift away, Lance grabbed it by the hair.

“About time,” Eric said, coughing and sputtering. “Thanks.”

Lance held the head in his hands, power swimming through his veins. The beast moved around in his gut, but it didn’t feel nearly as uncomfortable. It had stretched out in its increased space.

God, this feels incredible!

“I know he’s not breathing anymore,” Eric said, rubbing his neck. “But I’m not done.” After a few more seconds, Eric removed the vial from his coat and grabbed the head from Lance. He angled it over the vial, violet blood filling it and pouring all over his hand. He corked the vial and tossed the head carelessly next to the body.

Lance still held the blade, the adrenaline lessening little by little. With every bit of clarity that returned, guilt took its place. He’d lent the beast more power. Gave it more breathing room. He wondered what the consequences of that would be.

No, Lance thought and put a hand to his chest. Something in him, something greater than the beast, told him that it was the right choice—his instincts. The very thing that had kept him alive all those years on the streets.

The beast settled within him and returned to its slumber.

“What now?” Lance breathed.

Eric tossed him the cane, and Lance sheathed the blades.

“I don’t trust leaving the body intact, beheading or no beheading,” Eric responded.

Lance’s breathing returned to normal, and as he took a step on the leg that was broken, he felt no pain. Not an ache, nothing. He hid his excitement, and for now, he gave a wince anyway, putting his weight on the cane. Eric couldn’t find out his leg had healed that quickly, not without explaining… well, everything.

Whatever this beast inside of him was, it was scary—much scarier than he’d thought previously.

A demon?

“Right,” Lance said after realizing Eric was staring at him, awaiting his input. “Burn it?”

He hummed. “When we first met him, he took a sip from a flask… I wonder.” He bent down and rifled through the clothes on the headless body as purple blood pooled from the neck.

“Well,” Eric said as he removed a flask. He wiggled it with a smirk. “Isn’t that convenient?”

Eric opened the flask, sniffed, then swallowed a mouthful. He offered some to Lance. Just the idea of drinking after someone infected with those nanomachines… No, he wasn’t about to take a sip of that drink.

Eric poured most of the alcohol out on the body, leaving a small amount. He picked the head up as if it was nothing more than a basketball and placed it on Daniel’s chest.

Eric flicked his lighter and tossed it onto Daniel’s body. It erupted in a golden flame. Then he poured the remaining alcohol on his wounded hand, wincing. “Let’s hope that doesn’t get infected.”

Only when the sweet smell became overpowered by the foul stink of smoke did they walk away.

“What did he tell you?” Lance asked, faking a limp as he leaned on Eric’s cane. “I’ve never seen you so scared before.”

Eric said nothing for ten steps, then he cleared his throat, rubbing at his neck. “He said he was going to kill me and turn you into one of them.”

“You were actually scared about that?”

“Of course I was.” Eric looked at him, his eyes revealing something like offense. But then it was covered and hidden as quickly as it appeared. “You are my son, after all. Like it or not.”

Lance’s chest tightened at the words—in anger or sadness, he didn’t know. Maybe both.

“Besides,” Eric continued with a laugh, “after seeing what you did to Daniel back there? No thanks, I don’t need you turning into a purple-blooded freak with those fighting skills.”

Lance allowed himself a chuckle, and they walked in silence the rest of the way.