Spooks & Specters: A San DeLain Short Story Collection

Chapter One

SAN DELAIN, a sprawling metropolis, stretched as far as the eye could see. Tall skyscrapers dotted the skyline, glittering in the warm sunlight. The city was a melting pot of cultures, evident in the varied architecture and diverse people bustling about on the busy streets.

It had a warm and sunny climate, a diverse job market, a rich cultural scene, beautiful beaches, a thriving food scene, and unparalleled shopping and entertainment opportunities.

But even with its bustling streets and crowded markets, the city had a darker side. Its seedy underbelly was rife with crime and corruption, a fact that most people would consider a stain on the city’s reputation.

But for Isadora, this was a good thing. The intrigue and danger of the criminal world called to her, tempting her to explore its depths. Others may see it as a blight, but she saw it as what it was: a food source.

She stood before the full-length mirror, taking one last look at her reflection. The dark jeans hugged her curves perfectly, and the black T-shirt draped over her figure like a second skin. She slipped on a pair of sleek black tennis shoes to complete the casual, yet stylish, look.

Her jewelry was simple but elegant—small diamond studs adorned her ears, a delicate diamond pendant rested against her throat, and dainty gold bracelets adorned her wrist. The clothes and jewelry radiated an air of understated wealth and sophistication. Since she wasn’t in the mood to be dragged around by her hair, she braided it and then pinned it up into a bun.

“Let the games begin.”

Turning from the mirror, she picked up her purse and swung it over her shoulder.

She used the keyless remote to unlock her custom Land Rover. It wasn’t the most expensive vehicle on the market, but it’d certainly draw attention, and that was what she wanted.

Said the spider to the fly.

It took almost a solid hour of driving to get to the part of the city she wanted, and she exited the interstate. Even though it was ten o’clock, there was still a lot of traffic at this time of night.

For the last several miles, the appearance of this section of town had been steadily declining. Crumbling buildings, their walls covered in garish graffiti, loomed overhead. Boarded up storefronts lined the streets.

The scent of decay and neglect hung heavy in the air, as trash littered the sidewalks and spilled out onto the road. It was a stark contrast to the bustling city she had just left behind, a grim reminder of the harsh reality facing this forgotten part of town.

The cars parked on the street were older, and a few looked abandoned—their tires flat tires and windows busted. A fog of desperation surrounded the place. She almost, almost, felt sorry for what she was going to do that night, but she had to eat just like anyone else. At least she tried to avoid innocents.

As the very obvious drug deals taking place on the street corners became more prevalent, she started looking for just the right place to set her trap—to spin her web, so to speak.

She was certainly garnering a lot of attention.

When a young man in a dirty tank top and jeans did the finger gun motion at her, Isadora knew she was where she needed to be. Seeing a darkened alley, she tapped her brakes a couple of times like her motor was spluttering, then quickly pulled to the curb and killed the engine.

Taking a deep breath, she slapped a look of terror on her face. She glanced frantically around. The people eyeing her from the shadows had no idea this was all an act. Her heart rate picked up. It was excitement zipping through her veins and not fear.

Grabbing her cell phone, she pretended like she was making a call as she made panicky hand gestures. People stepped from the shadows. A quick look at her dash console showed that it’d taken exactly two minutes to draw a crowd.

Three young men circled her vehicle. Isadora guessed them to be gang members in their early twenties. The bandannas around their foreheads, the guns stuck into their waistbands—yeah. This was exactly what she was looking for. She liked the big, muscular, and tattooed men with their firm skin and youth.

They were tasty.

When the banger tapped on her window, she shook her head. Grinning, he tried to open her door.

This motherfucker. So cocky. So enjoying what he thinks is my terror.

While he was doing that, another one slowly climbed onto her hood. Isadora had to fight a scowl. He had better not dent her damn hood. She turned wide eyes to him.

He waved at her.

Asshole.

The third banger tried the back passenger door, and Isadora jerked her head around to stare at him. He pointed at the door like he thought she was stupid enough to unlock it for him.

They’re enjoying this. I’ll remember that.

“Come on, Mamacita, open up. We just wanna help.”

Sure you do. “Leave me alone!”

Isadora cried instead. “I called the police. They’re on their way.”

The banger by the passenger door snorted. “The pigs don’t come down here, lady.”

“Yo, ya shouldn’t be down here either. Sucks to be you.”

The one on her hood smirked, then made kissy sounds at her.

No, it’s actually going to suck to be you.

A dark hunger swept through her and for a second, just a split second, the fake mask of terror she wore slipped. Her vision sharpened, which meant her true nature had peeked through her eyes. She more than likely looked like she had cataracts.

Many spiders had a crude form of color vision. It was usually based on green and ultraviolet hues. This extended their vision into the deep violet end of the spectrum—well beyond what humans could see.

Same for her. She was an arachne, a creature who could create strong webs, just like real spiders. There were only three arachnes in the entire world. They were that rare and deadly.

Her kind killed humans by poisoning them through their bites. In the paranormal world, it was rumored they fed upon human blood, and that they may or may not use a web to trap their prey.

Well, they had one part of that right.

The young man perched on her hood yelped, scrambled backwards, and hit the ground. He popped up, rubbing his ass, and pointed at Isadora. “Da fuq was that?”

She snickered but quickly slapped the terrified look back on her face.

“What was what?”

the gangbanger at her driver’s door demanded.

“Her eyes did some crazy thang,”

he yelled. “They had this white film over them.”

“You trippin’.”

The banger at her doors stalked to where the other one stood and shook him roughly.

“Let me fuckin’ go. I ain’t trippin’. I know what I saw, man.”

The young man who Isadora startled shoved the other banger back a couple of steps. “I’m outta here.”

“Pussy!”

the banger yelled as the other one hurried off.

“Fuck this shit,”

the one at the passenger door said. Pulling his gun from his waistband, he shot into the back window, shattering it.

No you did not! Isadore screamed, but it was not due to fear. It was going to take forever to get all that shattered glass out of her back seat. Then she was going to have to arrange for someone to replace the damn window. You’re going to pay for that.

Throwing open the driver’s door, Isadora fled the vehicle, aiming for the darkened alley.

“Get the bitch!”

I’ll show them bitch.

Footsteps sounded behind her. Isadora purposely kept her speed under control so she didn’t outdistance them. She passed a flickering light bulb in a random door that barely shed any light. She darted around bags of trash, the rank smell adding to the sickening ambience. She jumped a puddle, and graffiti flashed by as she ran. A minute later she heard one of the bangers cuss as he ran through the puddle. Little did he know that wasn’t his biggest concern.

Feed.

Feed.

Feed.

The words echoed in her head as her feet pounded the pavement. She loved the thrill of the hunt. Stupid humans thought they were the predators.

Oh, how the tables were about to be turned on them. From the sounds behind her, only two of the original three chased her. It appeared the one who ran away earlier had truly abandoned his buddies. Lucky young man. He would live to see another day. Although, in this lifestyle, his days were most likely numbered anyway. Such was gang life.

But that wasn’t her problem. Humans died. It’s just what they did.

In the darkest part of the alley, Isadora stopped. Hunger rose steadily as her heart beat fiercely. Slowly she turned to face the two young men who stumbled to a halt several feet from her.

“Rich bitch. Gonna fuck you up.”

“Should’ve stayed on your end of town.”

Isadora laughed softly.

Both of the bangers stared at her.

“What are your names?”

Isadora asked.

“Why ya want to know?”

asked the banger who had shot out her SUV window.

“Because I like to know the names of my victims,”

Isadora said.

He laughed. Loudly. “Victims? Only victim around here is you, bitch. But sure. I’ll play. Name’s Carlos. Make sure you scream that when I fuck you.”

“The fuck you givin’ her your real name for?”

demanded the other banger who had first approached her driver’s side door.

“Ain’t like she’s gonna tell anyone.”

Any questions she might have had about whether the two of them deserved their fate or not were answered. “And you?”

Isadora asked the other one.

“You don’t need to know my name,”

he said, pulling a gun from his waistband.

“Well then, let’s get this party started.”

Isadora grinned.

Her spinnerets formed on her forearms. Raising her right arm, she pointed it at one of the humans and pressed her middle finger and ring finger into her palm.

Webbing shot out, attaching itself to the gun. Isadora yanked, and the gun went flying out of his hand. Both of the young men started screaming, but Isadora was past caring. Yelling was common and often ignored in this part of town.

Still, it was better not to attract notice.

More webbing shot out, covering the other banger’s mouth. When she had that taken care of, she shot more webbing at him, knocking him to the ground, where he was then pinned. Eyes wide above his gagged mouth, he struggled fiercely.

“Don’t go anywhere,”

Isadora said as she kneeled and checked to make sure she hadn’t accidentally covered his nose.

She didn’t want him to suffocate, although that’d probably be a nicer ending than the one she had planned for him.

One down.

One to go.

Standing, she watched the other banger haul ass down the alleyway. She shot webbing from her arm again, which latched on to the back of his shirt, and yanked him back to her. He landed at her feet in a messy pile.

Grabbing him by the arm, she threw him against the alley wall. Even from a few feet away she heard his head hit the bricks. She could’ve used her webbing to stick him there, but where was the fun in that? Quickly she stalked toward him, pinning him against the wall, trapping him.

Of course the first thing he did was swing at her. His fist collided with her jaw, and Isadora’s head snapped to the side. Turning back slowly, she faced him. Lifting her hand, she rubbed her fingers across her mouth.

Looking down, she sighed. “Congratulations. It looks like you drew first blood.”

“What the fuck are you?”

he shouted in her face.

Holding her hand up, she let a partial shift take over. Long black nails extended from the tips of her fingers. Only, these didn’t look like human fingernails. These were thick and slightly curved.

“What the—”

“You like to prey on the weak, don’t you, you big bad gang banger? Like to throw your weight around and threaten people. Hurt them. Maybe even kill them. You’ve never stopped to think that there might be something bigger and badder than you out there.”

She wrapped her hand around his throat and slammed him back against the wall again, his head bouncing off the bricks.

“I’m the bigger bad.”

Carlos gurgled under her hand. She felt his throat move against her palm, and it was such a lovely feeling. Sounds tried to escape him, but they had a problem getting past her tight grip.

“You humans always tend to think you’re the top predator.”

Carlos’s eyes bulged.

“Yes, I said human.”

Isadora let the partial shift continue. She knew what the human would see. Hopefully it wouldn’t terrify him into a heart attack.

She’d always been proud of her high cheekbones from her human form. She was even more so in this form, as they swelled, almost as if there was growth under the skin.

Which, there was.

Around her mouth, black pincerlike fangs pierced her skin and grew around either side of her lips. A small trail of blood dribbled down her chin. It always stung a bit when they formed, but it was brief and over quickly.

There was another brief sting as three pairs of little black eyes blinked open on her bulging cheekbones. Right above her eyebrows, her forehead tingled as it thickened to a sagittal crest.

The guy on the ground started screaming, but the sound was muffled thanks to the webbing over his mouth.

The human that she had by the throat also tried to scream, so she adjusted her grip. “None of that, now.”

Having seen herself in a mirror, she knew that there was also a set of black eyes on the crest. Her scalp burned slightly as what appeared to be black cables grew from her scalp and slanted backwards to intertwine with her bun.

The other banger who’d run off had noticed how her eyes had changed earlier. Some primitive instinct had told him there was a predator in their midst, and he’d listened. Smart guy. This one, however, had not.

Isadora grinned, exposing her jagged teeth.

The guy she’d pinned with her webbing was nearly hyperventilating from fear. The emotion spiced the blood and had such a lovely, acidic scent. Her mouth watered, and her fangs descended.

The scent of urine perfumed the air as the one she had pinned to the wall continued to swing at her, but his fist bounced uselessly off her face and body. Laughing softly, she shoved him several inches higher up the wall. His feet slammed against her thighs. He sank his nails into her wrist, not that it did any good.

His puny human nails barely breached her skin. At this point, he wasn’t even capable of screaming, thanks to his terror. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen that happen. Fear could actually rob a person of the ability to vocalize.

“You know, it’s such a shame. You are truly a handsome young man. There are so few of my kind that I’m almost tempted to try and transform you, but I could never trust you. I need a killer, but you’re rotten to the core.”

The banger continued to wheeze in her grip, even as he fought. The sheer terror on his face and his rabbiting heart made her hunger deepen. She could hear the blood pounding in his veins. She needed to finish this before he really did have a heart attack simply by staring at her.