Page 52 of Shades of Silver City

“Whoever wants you has resources. I’ll need you to trust that I have your best interests at heart and can keep you safe. You’ll need to do what I say.”

My eyes roam over his body’s gilded aura. That damn golden soul-shade leads me to trust him…as much as I possibly can. “Why do you care?”

He breaks eye contact, glancing away on a big inhale. “Like I told you before. You’re valuable to me.”

I sigh. “My ability is.”

“If that’s easier to believe, we’ll go with that.”

“So when is my first payday?” I ask.

Archer’s face transforms from tight and angular to soft and carefree as he bursts out into full-blown laughter.

I frown. “It’s not funny.”

“No, no. It’s really not.” He shakes his head, giving me a lopsided grin. “Your attitude changed fairly quickly, is all.”

“My situation has changed.” I narrow my eyes at him, crossing my arms.

His eyes flick down to my chest, pausing there for a moment too long.

“Eyes up here, asshole.”

His attention quickly snaps back up to my face. Pink tints his cheeks as he scratches the back of his head sheepishly. “There’s a—”

“If you’re one of those leering pervs, I’m out.”

He reaches out, pointing a tattooed finger toward me, and I slap his hand away.

“Don’t touch me.”

“No,” he says, chuckling. “It’s a—”

Something tickles my collarbone, and when I reach up to brush it off, my fingers make contact with something fuzzy.

“What the hell?” I pluck the thing off of me.

Holding it up, I see way too many furry, dangling legs.

A scream bursts from my raw throat as I fling the creature as far away from me as humanly possible. I jump onto Archer, wrapping my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck. A shudder goes through my body as I cling onto him.

“Is it gone?” I whisper into his neck.

His body shakes, and I pull back to see that he’s wearing a huge grin. He’s laughing at me.

“It’s not fucking funny,” I say.

He squeezes my hip, and his touch sends electricity through my body, sobering me up. My cheeks burn. Disentangling myself, I let go of him. When my feet hit the dusty floor, I take a few steps back, putting space between us.

I wipe my hands aggressively on my jeans and shudder.

“Yep.” Archer stuffs his hands in his pockets, rocking on his heels and laughing. “I was trying to warn you.”

I glare at him. His laugh turns into a fake cough.

He leans casually against the wall across from me. The soft, golden light from the overhead bulb gilds him like a piece of framed artwork. Something flutters in my chest, and I walk in the opposite direction of the spider—and him.

“Try harder next time!” I call over my shoulder.

---