“Okay, but—”

He pushed me through an open door. “In here, be quiet.”

I turned as he shut the door. He’d put me in his bedroom. Hot damn. All thoughts of Gran fled.

A few steps in and I found myself at the edge of his rather large and still rumpled bed. I put a hand on the mussed-up side, and it held some heat from his body. He really had to have a furnace going under his skin.

I had no doubt that he was deep in the shadow world, which indicated he probably wasn’t totally human.

But what was he?

Voices floated through the air—the low, calm rumble of Crash’s voice, plus an answering voice that fell in the mid-range. Male, I thought, and irritated.

I made my way back to the door and pressed my ear to the wood.

“You said you would consider making the item I requested.” Yup, definitely male.

“I did consider it, and I asked a single question which you didn’t want to answer. So that means my answer is no. Talk to the twins if you need it made.”

A slap as if a hand had hit the table. “You and I both know their weapons are cheap. They ship them from China half the time! They have no skill, and you do.”

I grinned. I’d known those weapons looked shoddy!

“Answer the question,” Crash repeated. “What use have you for an item of that nature?”

Damn, it was almost like . . . he knew I was listening? Yup, that had to be it. He wasn’t naming anything.

“Why so cagey . . . ah, did I interrupt you and a lady friend? My apologies, I understood that you had sworn off women. Evil creatures that they are.” The “guest” laughed, and I frowned. Evil? Another slam of a hand on that table. “I am not asking now. I am telling. Make me the item. One week, or I will make your life uncomfortable. My overseer is not a patient soul. You know this.”

Silence from Crash for a full minute. “It can’t be made in a week, and you know it.”

Was he giving in to this a-hole’s demands?

“How long will it take?”

Silence again. “Three months. Certain cycles have to be considered in the making of it, you know that.”

The other voice let out a huff. “Fine. Here is your down payment for the crucible.”

Oh, so that’s what it was? Why would it take three months? My curiosity was at its height, which was why I was slow on the uptake of what happened next.

There was a heavy thud and then the sound of footsteps leaving the space. No, not leaving, heading my way. Toward the bedroom.

Shit!

Why did I get the feeling that if I got caught now, my job at the Hollows Group would never happen? Because this person would kill me for overhearing their business with Crash. I dropped my bag and ripped off my clothes, flinging them onto the floor as I stumbled toward the bed, snagging a thick blanket bunched up at the foot of the bed as if it had been too hot for anything but a sheet.

I grabbed the cover, yanked it up and slid under it, closing my eyes as the door creaked open. I fought to keep my breathing slow and even—not an easy feat after that little sprint across the room. There was an upside: Crash’s leftover warmth and smell wrapped around me. Damn, I’d take that any time. I all but sunk into the mattress with a heavy sigh.

Footsteps came closer, then stopped beside me. I feigned sleep. “Crash, I’m disappointed,” the other man said, not bothering to keep his voice quiet. As if he didn’t care if he woke me.

“What?” Crash’s voice was wary. He was no doubt wondering what the hell I was doing in his bed.

“She’s rather old and . . . less hardened than I would have thought you’d choose to break your fast with. Soft. Feminine.”

Old? I was forty-one! Not a hundred and three!

And soft? Some men liked . . .

“I like a woman with some curves on her,” Crash said. “I like to have something to hold onto in the bedroom.”

Jaysus lord in heaven, my heart rate shot through the roof. Don’t start panting. That would give me away.

“I can see that.” His words dashed my growing heat.

I deliberately took a big breath, mumbled “asshole” under my breath, and rolled so my back was to the both of them. The blanket shifted down to the curve of my waist and I had to fight not to pull it up. Someone lifted it to cover my shoulder.

Their footsteps receded, but I stayed put. Just in case they came back. Which was a good thing since they paused at the door.

“And Crash?”

“What?”

“Consider your new friend’s life on the line if you don’t get the crucible to me in time.”

The door clicked shut, and I was plunged back into a semi-darkness that smelled like a wood-burning fire, the salty ocean, and something else I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

I waited quietly until the door creaked open.

“He’s gone,” Crash said as he stepped into the room. “And what are you doing in my bed?”

“What?” Feish strode in past him. “You said you have a man already!”

I sat up and the blanket slid down a little. “Yeah, well, it saved your butt and mine, didn’t it?”

“No, it didn’t.” Crash stared at me hard and I stared right back, unblinking under those lovely eyes of his. “If he’d thought you were just a lost tourist, which was what I was going to tell him, he would have sent you on your way. Now he thinks you’re important to me because you were in my bed, which means he’ll—”

“Kill me if you don’t make a mysterious crucible for him?” I slid my legs out from under the covers, holding one knee to my torso as I reached for my bra on the floor. “Yeah, I heard him. Who is he, anyway?”

“Your dog is going to be mad!” Feish glared at me as she threw my shirt and pants at my face. “Get out of his bed! Out, out!”

I got my bra on under the covers and then pulled on my shirt. “I’m going, Fish Lips! It was an act. I wasn’t trying to get into his bed for real.”

Crash just watched me dress the whole time. If he thought I was going to blush and get flustered, he had another think coming. How many doctor’s exams had I had up to this point? Too many to count, and most had involved a speculum, which meant now a little bit of skin showing was nothing.

“Thank you for the weapons,” I said, yanking the last of my clothes on. “I’ll come back when I get my first paying job.”

“It’ll be months away,” he said. “Maybe a year. You won’t have a reputation until then. That’s how this goes.”

I didn’t want to hear that. I couldn’t afford to wait that long. “I tend to break rules as I go, so we’ll see about that.”

I brushed past him, my arm bumping up against his side. I took note of a tattoo that curled around to his back, something I hadn’t seen before because of the way the sheet was wrapped. Flames, just flames winding around his torso. Feish harried me all the way to the front door, pushed me out, and slammed it shut behind me.

I stood there in Factors Row thinking things couldn’t get any weirder, any worse.

That was a terrible way to test Murphy’s law, in case you were wondering.

I checked my watch. Five! How could it be so late? The walk back to Corb’s place was easily twenty minutes. I had to hurry if I didn’t want to be late.

A tapping on the cobblestones behind me turned me around.

There was Robert, watching me, swaying where he stood. “Robert, what are you doing here?”

“Warning.”

Just that one word, and then he was gone between one blink and the next.

Warning, huh? Warning for what, though?

I turned in the direction of Corb’s loft, then let out a shriek as I stumbled backward from the literal horror in front of me. A spider of enormous size, perched on long, hairy legs. The size of a freaking horse, legs stretched out a good ten feet in either direction.

I hated spiders.

Almost as much as I hated Himself.

“Oh, fresh meat.” The spider ducked its head under the bridge that led into the walk and scuttled toward me.

“You can’t be seen!”

“You’re right, I can’t be. Trick of my magic keeps the unseeing from seeing me or my victims. Only allowed to chase those who can see me now.” The fangs that flicked out from under its mouth were the size of my thighs. As thick as them too.

The spider stretched them one at a time, flicking a bit of venom toward me with each movement. The droplets hit the cobblestones with a splat and smelled of death.

I backed up and banged on the door I’d just stepped out of. “Feish, open the door!”

“No, go away!”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be sassy!” I yelled, my voice creeping up to an octave I hadn’t known I could achieve until that moment. “There is a spider out here!”

“Crash sleeping, go away!”

I banged harder, but then I had to step back because the big-ass spider was closing in on me.

Weapons, I had weapons! For what good they’d do, I pulled both short knives out of their bundle and slung my bag around to my back. I pointed both tips at the ginormous spider, thinking that it had been too long since I’d actually sparred with weapons. The moves would be clunky at best.

But here I was, pointy parts directed at enemy, check.

Enemy laughing.

Check.

“You don’t know how to fight, do you? Excellent.” The spider lunged at me so fast that I didn’t even see it move—I blinked, and it was on top of me. I had my back pressed to the cobblestone walk and was staring up at the hugely hairy underbelly.

“You should consider waxing,” I spat out as I kicked up with both feet, hitting the belly hard. The spider flailed.

“Right in the lady bits!” it screeched. Okay, she screeched. I scuttled backward on my ass, through puddles of water, dragging the knives with me as the spider lurched around, wailing, legs flailing. This was my chance.

I pushed to my feet and ran for all I was worth down Factors Row, racing for the stairs at the far end. If I could get above, the spider wouldn’t follow.