Demon Bound by Meljean Brook

didn’t turn into fear when he saw the webs and the large spiders weaving them, but more of that maddening curiosity.
    Alice found it difficult to wish him gone when he took such genuine interest.
    â€œHoly mama,” he said softly, tilting his head to study the spotted brown spider.
    â€œThese are the Nephila ,” Alice said, plucking the gossamer threads. Nero raced along the strands toward her fingers. “And though their names are similar, they have no relation to the nephilim.”
    Jake glanced at her sharply, as if trying to determine whether she was joking or lecturing. “And does she have a name?”
    â€œHe. It is Nero,” Alice said, and with a small push of her Gift, she urged him onto her palm. It would confuse and disturb him to remain in his web while she gave her demonstration.
    â€œA male? Aren’t they usually—” He lifted his hand, thumb and forefinger a short distance apart.
    â€œSmaller than females? Yes. Shall I introduce you to his mother?” When he gave her another of those sharp glances, she relented. “It is the vampire blood.”
    â€œYou’ve made vampire spiders?”
    Now it was her turn to wonder if he was serious. He should know that wasn’t a possibility. “They don’t transform, just as animals and insects don’t if they drink vampire blood.”
    â€œCan you imagine vampire mosquitoes? Or immortal, blood-sucking ants who make you feel all sexy when they bite?”
    â€œNo. I can’t.”
    He was undeterred. “Picnics would never be the same.”
    â€œBut rather popular, one would think.”
    Self-reproach instantly followed the thoughtless response. Her dismay was compounded when Jake’s blank expression of surprise broke into a grin.
    That would simply not do.
    And if humor put him at ease, then she would be ponderous. “The blood offers these spiders strength and longevity. Furthermore, the male and female offspring are of equal size—though both male and female are larger than natural spiders. And there is also this.”
    She hooked her forefinger around a thread near the center of the orb and pulled. The web bowed slightly—then it held. She applied more pressure, and the silk threatened to bite into her finger.
    It sprang back into place when she let go.
    â€œYou’re kidding.” Jake looked from the web to Nero combing his tufted legs on her right hand. “Can I?”
    â€œYou may,” she said, then caught his wrist when he reached for a radial thread. “Not there. See how it’s flat? They’re like razors. Try the spirals. They’re thicker—and round.”
    â€œHere?” At her nod, he slipped two fingers around a strand. The muscles in his forearms flexed as he pulled. His teeth set, and his brows lowered in concentration. The frame creaked and listed toward them.
    Men were such strange creatures. “You are strong enough to break it,” Alice said when she smelled blood. “But lacking protection, not without damage to yourself. A blade will cut through, however.”
    Jake released the thread, and righted the frame with a push of his hand.
    â€œOkay,” he admitted as Alice returned Nero to his web. “That was worth coming in to see.”
    â€œVery good then.” Alice injected as much dismissal into her tone as she could, satisfied that it hid the delight his acknowledgment had wrought. “It was kind of you to—”
    â€œBut,” he interrupted with a smile and enough charm to set her teeth on edge, “I’m here about the temple in Tunisia.”
    Of course. “An apology isn’t necessary.”
    â€œWell, no. I’m—”
    â€œThen we agree.” She strode toward the main chamber.
    â€œAgree about what?” Jake came after her. “Oh, I get you. Sure, I’m sorry for kissing you , but I’m not sorry for . . . And there’s no flippin’ chance