Page 23 of The Cruelest Undead
“Not your damn spider, Jacques! You know she’s not allowed to run around the lair! Get her the hell out of here!”
The spider moved and climbed into his arms so he could hold it.
She was carrying an egg sac, and heavily with children.
Jolie reached for a frying pan hanging from the pot rack that theyNEVERused and got ready to wield it in battle against the eight-legged menace she hated.
Well, she’d be using it now.
To.
Kill.
It.
“What is it, pet?” he asked, placing Brigit onto the counter so he would not disturb her eggs.
She was chattering away.
Her legs were going a mile a minute, moving up, down, and in circles as she communicated with her master.
The eyes were blinking—all one hundred of them.
And Jolie was batting up with a pan ready to knock something out of the park.
“What does she want?” Jolie asked, ready in case Brigit moved toward her.
He glanced over, his red eyes swirling. This wasn’t Jacques. This was Death and one of his minions.
“The realm is silent. She is worried that something is about to happen. The dead went quiet, and the wailing stopped.”
Uh-oh.
Aiobeheann stopped wailing?
That couldn’t be good.
His realm was full of suffering. It was never quiet when the damned were being punished for eternity.
Jolie pointed.
“Yeah, well, I’m worried too. She’s carrying something on her back.”
He patted the thick, white egg sac.
“It’s her babies.”
When Jolie went to swing, he held up his hand, stopping her so that she couldn’t move. Nothing made a giant spider angrier than someone hurting her baby egg sac. Jacques would deal with Jolie’s anger at him later.
Brigit was his to protect.
In fact, his spider was like his familiar. She was his closest ally next to the people he loved.
“Brigit, go listen for me, and let me know what you hear.”
She chattered.
It was then that he lovingly stroked her abdomen.
