The arach had blurred, become a human-spider hybrid, and then it had reared and slammed three curled fists into Mack’s chest and stomach in quick succession. He doubled over, but didn’t try to retaliate. I watched as the arach blurred back to human form, and saw Mack slowly straightened.
“We will need to feed soon.”
“Not. My. Problem.”
The arach reached out and wrapped his hand around the front of Mack’s throat. I watched as Mack tensed, but, again, did nothing, and wondered why.
“It will be, if we cannot recover the operation quickly enough.”
Operation? I wanted to hear more about this operation, but Mack didn’t care what I wanted.
“Keep your filthy claws off my people.”
“We aren’t hurting them.”
And I remembered what it was like to be held, to feel the sharp pain of a spider draining the life from my throat. There was more than one way to hurt. No-one wanted to carry memories like that. I shoved my own memory away, and forced myself to concentrate on Mack’s response.
I saw when he thought about taking a swing at his captor, and willed himself to stillness.
“I need to feed,” the arach told him. “Who can you spare?”
“Medical—” Mack began, but the creature cut him off.
“We need living blood.”
“You prefer living blood,” Mack corrected. “You do not need it.”
“I will only feed from the living.”
“I have no-one to spare.”
“Then I will start with those I deem to be of least use to you—the very young, the very old, the sick, and the weak, those not occupied in a position of technical skill that would be difficult to replace.”
The arach turned to go, and my heart thudded in my chest. The very young put Rohan right in the firing line. I wondered if he was well-hidden, or within reach, and my heart leapt to my throat. Mack, however, had another alternative.
“You can feed on me.”
“But you are the only one who can contact the girl.”
“Then you’d better not take too much.”
“And if I prefer another alternative?”
“You will have to kill me, and your mission will be lost.”
The arach turned back towards him.
“What makes you think I will have to kill you?” he sneered, and Mack struck.
Honestly, I’d thought Bendigo could move fast, but Mack proved to be just as quick, and I realized I hadn’t watched him in combat—usually I was too busy fighting right alongside him…or trying to hold my own against him on the mats. All that had told me was that he was fast. Watching him was another matter.
Mack bounced to within arm’s length of the creature, and his hands were a blur of movement. I heard three thuds, followed by a crack, and then Mack lifted his knee and brought his foot down hard on the top of the arach’s very human-looking knee.
There was another crack, and a shout of pain, and the arach shifted from human to spider. Mack ducked under the first stab of its foreclaw, grabbed the second claw, and then dodged the creature’s fangs to slide underneath it, pulling the leg after him.
There was a third crack, as the spider refused to follow the dragging pressure on its leg, but Mack let go, slid to a stop on his knees beneath its abdomen, and slammed punches upwards into the monster’s gut.
“Drink!” he demanded, emphasizing the word on a solidly delivered blow. “From! Me!”
And then he slid out from under the abdomen and into the corridor, which wasn’t his best move ever.
“You, pack-hunting, cowardly, blood-sucking, mother-fucking bastards!” he roared, trading blows with the waiting arach guards, but they outnumbered him four to one, and they out-massed him in their half-hybrid forms. They were also better armored than an unprotected human could ever hope to be.
The arach leader was not smiling when he reappeared in the doorway, but he had returned to the human form he had adopted when he’d boarded the ship. Mack tensed against the guards restraining him, but didn’t try to break free. Watching him, I wasn’t sure whether this was because he couldn’t, or because he’d decided not to.
The arach leader looked at the guards, and chattered in the arach tongue. They hesitated, and then let Mack go. Mack pulled himself up from the floor, and stood in front of the arach leader. He didn’t say a word, didn’t twitch an eyebrow, and didn’t even try to look smug. He just stared at the creature in front of him—and it stared back.
They stood that way for a long moment, and then Mack spoke.
“You touch my crew, and I will fight you and yours until one of us is dead, and then you will lose your link to my girl. You can drink from me. You alone. If you want to feed your crew, you need to find them supplies elsewhere, but you will not feed on anyone else on my ship.”
The arach neither agreed, nor denied him
“Kneel,” it said, and Mack knelt.
I noticed that he hooked his hands into his belt, and didn’t take his eyes from the creature before him. I also noticed that one of the arach’s arms hung limply by its side, and wondered what it was going to do for treatment. That worry went straight out of my head, when the arach said four frighteningly familiar words.
“You owe me blood,” it said, and Mack curled his lip.
“I owe you nothing.”
He stayed on his knees as it advanced towards him, and I watched as he tightened his grip on his belt. How he stayed where he was when the arach came and knelt behind him, I do not know, but he did. He even let it pull him against itself so it could feed more easily.
The only sign I had that Mack was nowhere near as relaxed as he seemed was when the arach bit into his throat. His whole body jerked, and he let go of his belt, but he managed to fold his arms up over his chest, instead of flailing wildly. The arach
