The apartment building was not an apartment building.
It was a gutted dental office three blocks behind the shopping mall. Two stories, the lower windows boarded, the upper windows cracked but intact. A faded sign hung from one remaining bracket, the letters too weathered to read. The front door was missing entirely, replaced by a curtain of dense spider silk that caught the faint ambient light and shimmered like fog.
The spider woman went first.
Her eight legs carried her up the steps with an ease that made the motion look choreographed. Each tip found its place on the concrete without sound, the silver hairs on her legs catching the light in brief flashes. Her human torso was upright, her small breasts pressing against the tight black top, her silver-white hair swaying.
Cruxius followed.
His eyes were lower than her face.
