The Golden Spider (The Elemental Web Chronicles Book 1) by Anne Renwick Page B

shrug. “The drug keeps the damaged nerve from deteriorating further. It dulls the needles. The brace stabilizes the muscle damage already done. What is there to do but carry on?”
    Carry on, indeed. Build a better neurachnid and obtain the formula for her sister’s nerve agent. If that could be accomplished, many problems might be solved.
    They turned a corner and her waiting steam coach came into view.
    “Tomorrow, we will redouble our efforts,” he said. “I will set aside the entire afternoon to work with you on your project.”
    Amanda’s heart leapt. “That’s most generous of you.” Did that mean she was forgiven for her secrets, her suitor and her questions?
    “It’s the least a mentor should do.” Thornton handed her into the carriage. “Good night, Lady Amanda,” he said, and firmly closed the door, giving her no chance to reply.
    Thornton turned and strode back in the direction of the laboratory, leaning a bit more heavily on his cane. Did the man ever rest? For she had no doubt he would be summoning Black to his office in the small hours of the night to send him in pursuit of Nicu Sindel and his granddaughter-in-law, Lady Emily.
    ~~~
    It was nearly midnight when Wasp turned slowly around, eyeballing the warehouse. It would do for the interim. Moving was such an inconvenience, but what choice had there been? Wasp had known the lordling and his minion would not give up easily.
    So now only the essentials, easily carried, remained.
    A bioluminescent lamp hung from a pulley over an old door propped on two barrels. An assortment of ropes and straps rested on its surface. It would serve, though the easy adjustments provided by the mechanized operating table would be missed.
    A nearby crate held the required tools. A rust-stained enamel ewer and basin provided a place to scrub. A copper cauldron hung from a cast iron hook. Underneath, a gas jet burned, the water slowly coming to boil, though it almost seemed a waste of time, sterilizing the tools, when the patient was unlikely to survive the surgery.
    It was time to get back to business.
    Lifting the spider from a small, velvet-lined case, Wasp peered at the glass vial encased within the abdomen. Nearly all the numbing agent was gone. Certainly not enough for the next patient. Wasp couldn’t afford to have it chemically analyzed, but more was needed.
    Pain. Screaming. There were ways to deal with that.
    But the extreme delicacy of the weaving process made the formula a key part of the procedure. Most nerve agents paralyzed the nerve. This one only calmed the damaged root allowing the spider to test the efficacy of the newly woven nerve, making minute changes to the final structure before completing its task.
    Fortunately, the source of this nerve toxin had been located with relative ease and a delivery was due momentarily.
    There was a rapping at the door. That should be it now.
    Wasp crossed to the thick, wooden door, sliding it open a crack. A gypsy, one who looked to be about seventeen years of age, stood on the threshold. “You have it?”
    He pulled a small vial from his pocket. The liquid had a greenish cast, similar to that inside the spider. Excellent.
    “Come in,” Wasp pushed the door wider.
    Warily, the gypsy stepped just over the threshold, holding the vial tight. “Five pounds.”
    “Five! I only agreed to four.”
    “Five.” Dark brown eyes blazed back. Blue would have been better, but there was no need to be choosey.
    “Fine,” Wasp sighed, holding out a hand as if about to drop a pile of coins into the gypsy’s palm.
    As the young man handed over the vial, Wasp pressed a hand‌—‌and the device strapped to it‌—‌against the gypsy’s chest, directly over the heart. A bolt of electricity discharged, shock barely registering on the man’s face as he slid bonelessly to the floor.

Chapter Ten

    S ATURDAY AFTERNOON, Olivia lifted the calling card from the silver salver Burton presented. “Mr. Simon Sommersby,” she