The Lie Spinners (The Deception Dance) (32 page)

The
points pull away long enough for me to lift my head. The spider is on
top of me, looking down, his arms pressing into mine, his knees
pinning my legs to the floor. The restraint is physical, not magical
(and God, I hope not paralysis), he’s restraining me in the way
any stronger attacker would pin down a weaker opponent.

I
know how to get him off me—it’s hard to do but Albert
taught me how
.
The thought makes the whole situation a thousand times less
terrifying; my limbs relax just a bit. I know better than to throw
him, but the thought that I could, makes this situation a thousand
times better.

The
spider examines me, as if still appraising me as his snack.

In
the background, Chauncey laughs hysterically, continuously, from the
dais.

I
close my eyes to take stock of the situation.

I
inhale a shaky breath and take a big risk. “You are so strong,”
I whisper. “So powerful, I didn’t know. Now I know. And I
am so weak, so fragile; so many things could kill me: a single
punch…” He stills his fangy perusal. I continue, “…my
head being hit too hard, a restricted vein, internal bleeding…”

He
jumps off me as if he just discovered that I bathe in insect
repellent or something (which I’m going to start doing if I
ever get out of this). He wheels around facing the stage and shouts,
“Get me a doctor! Someone examine her, now!”

And
my guess was right.

The
men on the dais all look at each other, not moving. The strange
crowds of partially tattooed people behind us don’t go anywhere
and the bowed women definitely don’t move.

“
Are
you all disobeying me?”
The
Spider says with a grating intonation.

“
No,”
Chauncey says, speaking through her laughter, “You told them
two days ago that the next person who brought a doctor into here
would be eaten—they’re probably too terrified to obey
you-and disobey you at once.”

To
my amazement, The Spider puts a hand on his stomach and joins her
laughing. He shakes his head, ascends the stairs and slumps into his
throne, still laughing. After he chuckles for another minute or so,
he says, “Well, it is very important to me that she stays safe,
healthy and protected; and she looks like she might have injured
herself.” The smile he points down at me practically oozes
charm, and not in a false way—it’s like he actually
forgot attacking me less than three minutes ago and now he is the
charming host who needs to make sure of the health of his clumsy
guest.

I
sit up, feeling several aches, both arms, my legs in a couple places,
my stomach, but honestly I don’t think he inflicted any serious
damage on me (besides, likely, post-traumatic-stress-disorder). I
narrow my eyes at this
Spider
,
completely at a loss for how to respond.

I
wish I took a psychology course last year, I didn’t have room
in my schedule both semesters; next year (if I have a next year) I’m
taking psychology, scratch that—abnormal psychology, I bet he’s
some sort of classic case psychopath-which makes this game we’re
playing so much more deadly.

“
Didn’t
your bartender say that he’s some sort of medical student…?”
Chauncey asks.

When
I turn suddenly to look at Chauncey she catches my gaze with her
glowing red eyes and smiles.

“
What
did he say his name was…? Norbert, or something?”

“
Nathan…?”
The Spider scratches his chin then smiles, “A medical student,
yes!” He points a friendly finger at Chauncey, “You
demons are very useful.”

“
I
exist to serve,” Chauncey says, bowing her head.

Yeah,
serve Satan.
The
Spider just eats up whatever she shovels at him; you’d think
someone on his way to being more powerful than all the demons in Hell
would be able to detect when a lesser demon was leading them on a
leash.

“
I’m
not seriously injured,” I call up to them. “I don’t
need a doctor.”

“
Are
you
a doctor?” Chauncey responds.

I
pause, then respond, “No, but I…”

“
If
you’re not a doctor, then how could you possibly know?”

“
Bring
Nathan,” The Spider barks at Polite Goon, who stands a couple
feet away.

As
I predicted, he stood politely by as The Spider almost made the snap
decision to bite me to death. Polite Goon turns and climbs the dais;
he walks along the crowd and through a break in the web.

The
Spider considers me, where I sit on the shiny floor, too tired to
right myself. “She’s too vulnerable out here in the
open…too vulnerable, too easy to kill. If she was ballooned…”

Chauncey
stops laughing. “Do you know what happens if you break a deal
that you make with a demon?”

The
Spider turns to Chauncey, his smile fading.

“
If
you break a deal with a demon, that demon
has
to
carry out their threat. If you balloon her in silk, or in any other
way isolate her, I will be forced to lead all the available demons of
the Grand Marquis’ legions’ to your island, and we will
unleash your ill-advised experiments. Even if you behead this body I
wear, I will be
forced
to take the next available and carry out my threat. Understand what
I’m saying?”

The
Spider smiles, but in his smile I see a hint of something I had not
seen yet: fear. “I would never break my word,” he says.

I
don’t need to see the slight widening of Chauncey’s
eyelids to know that what he said is a lie, but I do see her react,
albeit slightly. I always thought that demons only reacted when it
suited them, but the way that Chauncey deliberately does not look at
me makes me think that either I’m getting better at reading
demons, or I’m imagining things.

Seeing
Stephen run across the dais and down the stairs grabs my attention.
He looks beautifully disheveled, his blonde hair messy, the top two
buttons of his shirt undone. He pauses looking truly shocked and
asks, “Amanda…? What are you doing here?” He
continues his run and crouches down beside me. Obviously Stephen
truly has had some medical training because he’s got some kind
of kit and automatically unloads it and checks me, listening to my
breathing, timing my pulse and putting a cuff on me to check my blood
pressure.

“
Amanda?”
drawls The Spider, a small smile on his face, “Her name is
Raven Smith.”

Stephen
smiles in a way that shouldn’t make my insides clench, but it
does. He winks and says, “I guess turn-around is fair play, as
you American’s say it, isn’t it?”

The
Spider claps his hands, as if delighted by a good joke, “I love
this Norwegian! You give us so much entertainment! No woman is safe
from you! Tell me, how have you made a history with
this
girl?”

I
blink when The Spider says ‘Norwegian,’ but then I
remember Stephen saying earlier:
I
am Nathan, a medical student from Norway on an extended vacation
.

Stephen
shrugs, and looks into my eyes as he says, “Some intense
nights, dancing under the stars, some whispered words.” He
turns to the dais and says, “But I don’t deflower
teenagers.”

The
blush that heats my face and the punched-in-the-gut feeling that has
me wrapping my arms around my middle is not even slightly faked.

I
see a flash of white and turn to Chauncey’s smile. Doesn’t
she love my public humiliation? But why is she going along with this
farce? Why is she pushing it along? I mean, Stephen still carefully
avoids lying, but she knows who he really is, she knows our real
history—she’s obviously known and promoted Stephen’s
lie for a while…why?

I
bite my lip as Stephen gently pulls one of my arms from my stomach
and pulls it straight, and then bends it again.

“
Nineteen
,”
I whisper at him, sounding defensive (though I know he knows).

He
raises his brows, and half-smiles, whispering back, “
twenty-three
.”

That
I didn’t know. Four years, or three and a half…? Not
that the difference in our ages makes a… difference, or that I
care, because I don’t.

The
Spider holds up a hand and chuckles a bit before saying, “I
prefer an unsullied woman, they are much easier to break and train.
But it is good that you didn’t. Her flower is not yours to
pluck.”

If
anyone else mentions my ‘flower’ I’m going to
scream.

The
Spider continues, “In my mother’s country there is a
story of a man, who, like you, had a
talent
with the women; he fell in love with the emperor’s chosen
courtesan. It did not end well for him, or for the courtesan.”

Stephen
lets go of my arm like I burned him. “She’s one of
yours?” He asks, looking at the line of webbed women.

“
No,”
The Spider waves his arms and laughs, “No, she is very
beautiful, enticing, but even I would not dare.”

They
speak as though I’m not even here, not really.

Stephen
runs his fingers through my hair, examining my scalp with his
fingers. “No bumps… I think the most she’ll have
is a couple of bruises. Is it alright if I check...?” Stephen
nods to May, who’s still lying on the floor.

“
Not
her,” The Spider says, still smiling genially.

“
It’s
too bad you didn’t negotiate to have a doctor guard Raven Smith
as well…” Chauncey says as she smiles down at where
Stephen examines my head for injuries with his fingers. “I’d
bet quite a bit that this guy here would be the best man here to keep
Raven Smith alive.” She sighs dramatically, “But you
didn’t, you negotiated for two guards, not for a deformed
medical student.”

The
Spider turns a smile on her, though even from here I can tell it is
brittle. She came dangerously close to giving him an order; I wonder:
if she did, would he go into that same mindless rage? He says, “The
deal was two guards of my choosing, not yours. My choice. My
decision. I will hire anyone I want to guard her and you have no way
to stop me—that was our deal.” As his eyes glow with his
words my heartbeats thump louder in my chest.

“
I…guess.”
Chauncey crosses her arms over her chest, looking pouty. “It is
up to you…”

“
Yes
it is, and I’m going to hire him.” The spider says, his
clenched fist coming down on the armrest of his throne. “Nathan,
I am hiring you to guard Raven Smith, day and night, until I say to
stop. You and Kasem will work together and guard her with your lives.
Understand?”

Stephen
rocks back on his heels. His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat.
“Do I have a…”

“
No,”
says The Spider with a flick of his wrist. “Go pack up your
belongings and be out here before we’re finished speaking.”

Stephen
snaps closed his medical bag and deliberately does not meet my gaze
as he walks up the stairs and crosses the dais.

The
Spider turns to Polite Goon, who I didn’t notice return but
he’s a few paces away. “Kasem,” The Spider calls
Polite Goon, with a smile. “I trust you. You teach that
Norwegian what he needs to know.”