Spider's Lullaby by James R. Tuck Read Free Book Online Page B

midair above him. I couldn’t see it, but I assumed she was using a strand of spider-silk to suspend from. The gangbanger slumped in her arms. She pulled him close, then rose up like magic to disappear into the shadows by the ceiling. So she was handling her part of this.
    Good.
    I peered around the corner, toward the center of the warehouse. It was another pathway through the stacks of crates, but it was clear of anyone. A light shone at the end from past where I could see, spilling yellow across the cement floor. I moved quickly, hugging the crates with batons held ready, trusting that Tiff was following. The music was louder with each step. Midway down, the crates changed sizes and stencils.
    Taking a deep breath through my nose rewarded me with the waxy scent of crayons and metal. Cosmoline. It was a sticky paraffin and petroleum jelly mix used to pack guns, and it had an unmistakable smell. The new crates had some kind of firearm in them. I would bet my life on it. The stencils began to read in other languages. I processed all of this as I reached the end of the row of crates.
    The music was its loudest now, cut through with laughter that came in fits and starts. Peeking, I saw a cheap table with five gangbangers sitting around it. Their AK-47s leaned against the crates around them. The center of the warehouse was open around them, stacks of crates forming walls around a big area. The music came out of an old, cheap stereo, bass turned loud enough to vibrate swirls through the smoky haze of menthol cigarettes and weed that filled the air spinning lazily in front of hot work lights on stands that illuminated the card game.
    Shit.
    I pulled back. They were only about ten or twelve feet away from where I stood. It was early in the morning, they were high, and they were engrossed in their game, but there were still five of them. Five stone-cold killers only steps away from loaded assault rifles.
    I fished my phone out of my pocket and pulled up Charlotte’s number. The baton hung and swung from my wrist as my thumb bounced over the keys.
    Â 
    When I move, come from above. Shock and awe.
    120 seconds.
    Â 
    I hit Send and dropped the phone back in my pocket. Turning, I leaned close to Tiff. Rising on her toes stretched her lithe body alongside mine. A line of heat flared to life as she brushed against me. I was very aware of the fact that she was still wearing a very sexy little black dress with a neckline that plunged low. Aware that the edges of smooth material curved up and over a swell of cleavage before crashing together. The memory of her and Charlotte earlier burned bright for a second.
    I put my face down close to her, lips almost grazing the soft skin of her earlobe. Her warm honeysuckle scent made my head spin. It was the smell of Tiff. Distraction clutched at my mind and I fought it down. My voice was hoarse.
    â€œStay about five feet behind me. When I drop somebody, you hit them with a five count from your baton. Anybody starts to get up, hit them again.”
    Pulling back, I saw her nod, once down, then up, full lips pulled tight in a line of determination. I tore myself away from her crystal blue eyes.
    Time to go to work.

9
    Two giant, jumping steps put me right in the middle of the gangbangers before they could react. My foot lashed out, snapping up under the table and flipping it into the air. Cards spun, flipping through the smoky haze. My thumbs pushed both trigger buttons, vibrating a buzz from the batons up into my forearms. I swung right, then left, crashing one baton against the side of a gangbanger’s neck. The jolt of electricity made him jerk away and stumble to the ground. The other baton brushed the front of a gangbanger as he was turning to scramble for his rifle. He twitched to a stop with the light shock and I lunged, ramming the electrodes against a narrow chest. He froze in place, muscles locked by current. I pulled away and he crumpled to the floor in a heap of baggy