Dusk (Dangerous Web #1) - Aleatha Romig Page 0,8

happened to me. I was hallucinating.” My pulse thumped faster. “Do you think they gave me something? A drug?”

“I don’t know,” Araneae admitted. “Are you feeling any better?”

“My head still hurts. Earlier, I felt like I was struggling to walk, and then there was water.” I shook my head. “But I’m dry, not wet. I don’t know what was real.” I took a deep breath and winced. “My ribs are sore.” I moved my tongue around my mouth. “And I’m thirsty. My mouth feels like a desert.”

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Why are you sorry?”

“Maybe they hurt you because they don’t want to hurt me.”

I laid my head on her shoulder. Araneae was easily five inches taller than me. If I could have reached for her hand, I would have. In this instant, I recalled the first time I met her, when she first was brought to our tower.

The second our gazes met and her lips curled into a smile, the trepidation I’d anticipated at the addition of another woman to our family disappeared. Araneae was the only woman in the world who could simultaneously put up with and love Sterling Sparrow. I have no idea how a decades-old prophecy could be so incredibly spot-on, but it was.

And through the years to follow, Araneae became more than Sparrow’s future; she eased her way into all of our lives. A friend. A confidant. A sister. A queen. She took her rightful place beside the most powerful man in the city, one of the most powerful men in the country, and has made a name for herself as a kind, generous, loving, and compassionate soul, a lady who would do anything in the world for those she loved and those in need, while staying strong enough to do whatever was necessary. If the situation required a fight, she was a tiger. If a verbal duel was asked, she was locked and loaded with the mouth of a sailor. If the circumstances required finesse to manipulate that powerful man behind the scenes, she was beyond capable.

From that first moment I saw her in the penthouse kitchen, I knew she was meant to be a part of us—our family. Laying my head upon her shoulder was the only way, at this moment, I could connect to her. “We’re getting out of here together.”

Her head came in contact with mine. “Damn right.”

We both grew deadly silent at the clicking sound of a locking mechanism and then a door moving across the concrete floor. My pulse sped up as beyond the blindfold, there was suddenly light. I lifted my face, wondering if I could see.

All I could make out were boots and jeans. There were two sets, two men.

“Looks like they finally woke,” a man’s deep voice said.

My arm trembled against Araneae’s as I willed myself to have strength to face whatever was to come. The two sets of feet paced before us, their boots clicking on the hard floor.

“Which one of you is married to Price?”

Price?

“Mrs. Price?” another man asked.

“Price?” we both questioned.

A boot nudged at my leg. “Answer the fucking question.”

My head shook from side to side. “Neither of us.” I wasn’t certain how much information to share.

“You,” the man said. But no longer was I being nudged.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” Araneae said. “I don’t know anyone named Price.”

“It was his house where they found you.”

They?

Did that mean that these people weren’t the ones who took us?

“Pierce,” a woman’s voice said. I lifted my chin to see her shoes and legs as she entered the room. “His name is Pierce,” she said. “Edgar Price was an alias.” This woman was our third visitor, not one of the men who’d first walked in. Her steps were lighter and her shoes daintier. Heels. I saw the pointed toes peering beneath flowing black slacks as she stepped. “They failed. She isn’t one of them.” It was a final statement, not looking for debate. “The imbeciles brought us the wrong women. Two opportunities and they failed. If they do it again, they won’t live to have another opportunity.”

The woman came closer and lifted my chin. I wanted to back away, but there was nowhere for me to go. Her grasp turned my head from side to side. “She needs ice for her cheek.” The woman then stepped over to Araneae. “And this one says she’s pregnant?”

“I am,” Araneae said. “Five and a half months.”

“Neither one of you is Pierce’s wife, the scientist?” a man asked.

“No,” Araneae answered. “We’re not. You