He nodded and disappeared. I booted up the bike and headed across town. Thankfully, peak hour had eased now that night was setting in, and it was definitely more pleasant to be on the Ducati. At least I could weave my way through the traffic without having to worry about some impatient motorist suddenly swinging into my lane.
One twenty Newman Street turned out to be one of those modern, split-level town houses that had been popular with the upwardly mobile about fifty years ago. This one was showing its age more than most, the redbrick darkening with grime and the concrete portions showing remnants of past graffiti attacks. Still, it was in better shape than some of its neighbors, which looked to have been abandoned for many years—decidedly odd given how close to the city Kensington was. At the very least, a developer should have stepped in and purchased the land because it would have been worth a fortune if developed properly.
And maybe I was thinking about that sort of nonsense rather than contemplating what might be waiting inside.
I glanced around. There weren't any Directorate cars about, and nobody seemed to be watching, so I shifted shape and silently made my way into the town house. Summer's place, like Shard's, looked lived in—there was an empty dinner plate sitting on the coffee table, a mug with a tea bag sitting ready near the kettle in the kitchen, and clothes in the dryer, ready to be pulled out. For all intents and purposes, it looked as if someone were living here. And maybe they were. Maybe this was where our dark spirit had made her lair. Which meant that maybe this was where all those tiny spiders were living . . . My gaze jumped to the ceiling, but it was free of movement or threat. There wasn't even a spiderweb decorating any of the corners.
Which didn't mean there weren't any in the bedroom.
The bedroom door was closed, and there was no way in hell I was going to slip underneath it until I knew for sure what waited on the other side. I shifted back to flesh form, then flexed my fingers and made my feet move forward. As I gripped the door handle, I closed my eyes and sent a brief prayer to whatever gods might be listening that there wouldn't be anything untoward waiting beyond this door.
But, as usual, they had the IGNORE button pressed when it came to me.
What lay inside wasn't only the biggest damn spiderweb I'd ever seen, but a goddamn army of little black crawly things.
I jumped back, a squeak of fear escaping my lips, and hit Azriel so hard that I actually forced him back a step before his hands gripped my arms and he steadied us both.
"Her nest," he said, rather unnecessarily. "But I suspect it is not her only one."
I swallowed heavily, my gaze on the ceiling and all the critters up there. There was no way in hell I was getting any closer to that room. They didn't appear to have noticed me, and I had no inclination to change that situation. "What makes you say that?"
"These spiders are larger than the ones who attacked us and therefore more likely to be older."
That a dark spirit was capable of having more than one cache of babies was something I did not want to think about. I forced my gaze from the creepy-crawlies and studied the body on the bed—although to call it a body was something of a misnomer. The other victims we'd seen might have been little more than preserved skin, but there wasn't even that much left of Summer. Just some dark hair on the pillow and a few bits of what looked like nails and bone remnants.
A shudder ran through me. Azriel rubbed my arms, but the heat of his touch did little to combat the chill.
"Why would she have more than one lot of babies?" I asked. "And if she does, why the hell aren't we overrun with spiderlike dark spirits here on earth?"