It was late. Fortunately, it was a Friday, so I didn't have to worry about school. Sometimes, I considered just taking my GED and leaving.

After all, I didn't need the schooling, not really. Not any more.

Oh Taylor, why don't you just leave… Emma's voice. So I wouldn't leave. Not even now, not after they were gone. Dad had kept up with Emma's trial. I had just been there once, for the initial hearing. I'd worried about having to be a witness, but Carol Dallon had evidently convinced Mr. Barnes and Emma to plead guilty.

I hadn't understood everything, but Dad said that since Emma was clearly guilty, they were arguing that she wasn't in her right mind. He didn't know anything more.

I did. Sophia fucking Hess.

I couldn't forgive Emma. Not after everything that had happened, but if I'd come out of the locker with someone like Sophia whispering in my ear…

When Jim and Claire (they'd both wanted me to call them that unless we were in the field), gave me the information, I didn't know whether to scream or laugh. I'd thought of all the ways that Emma could be bribing Blackwell, that Sophia could be using her connections…

And it was just people not paying attention. Nothing bigger.

It was insulting, in a way. My life had been almost destroyed by accident and idiocy.

But I was still here, and they were gone. Better yet, the Protectorate seemed to be okay with me as an independent, so long as I stuck to some rules.

Better that than the Wards. I'd seen what Jim and Claire could do, and yet there they were, spending their time patrolling the safe parts of town or fighting the "safe" villains.

I still had Jim's battle-hopscotch game with Circus on my screen saver but it was a waste of his skills. It was—

"And don't forget! I'm the fucking boss here now!" The sound came from the building I'd been observing.

Time for work. I'd woven a blanket out of spiderwebs, with rocks and wood in it— from above, I looked just like part of the roof I was on, with just a little gap for me to watch.

This was the Merchant's remaining turf. The E88 was getting a little more cautious with their guards after several "unexpected" FBI raids, and Oni Lee was fast enough that I couldn't disengage. So for this week, I was focusing on what was left of the Merchants.

The man coming out of the building was filthy. I could see sores on his body, a vest doing little to disguise a potbelly—but it was also holding vials of glowing goo.

So the people I listened to were telling the truth. The Merchants now had another cape. I snapped a picture of him, and started typing in the search terms on my phone.

Boozer, a low level tinker cape who can create power enhancing potions that work best when he drinks them. Have been known to produce fatal side effects in others, as well as inducing an addictive high and occasional bouts of homicidal mania.

Well, it made sense he'd team up with the Merchants.

"Now, I'm giving you all some of my fucking brew!" he said. "We're going to go down to the Boardwalk and show them who the boss is!"

Is he an idiot? That wouldn't just provoke a reaction from the Protectorate, but the other gangs. It was a disturbing thought that Skidmark had been the more capable and far-sighted leader of the Merchants.

Which wouldn't help anyone on the Boardwalk if his minions had a bad reaction to a brew. I reached out and my swarms started following me.

It was cold, not the best environment for bees or wasps, but I kept them close, flying in a tight formation, beating off the worst effects of the cold. I'd also swept through this area a few days ago, establishing nests in warmer parts of the the various buildings and sewer lines.

Orb Weaver was getting a little bit of a reputation, mainly for being able to conjure bugs out of thin air.

That was fine. If they thought that, they wouldn't be looking for my hives to destroy them.

When the wasps and bees fell on the little group, the Merchants started screaming and slapping. Some ran. I let them go. Others were flailing around, including one moron who was trying to stab the bugs.

Boozer was screaming and waving his hands, but I wasn't interested in stinging him. I didn't know if he was allergic, and killing someone was not something I was interested in.

Nor was trying to wade into that mob to give someone a shot from my epipen. But my second wave was taking advantage of Boozer's distraction, hordes of spiders dropping from my wasps and landing on his back, scuttling up to start weaving their webs around his vials.

It was amazing how much silk a spider could produce under my control, and how quickly even a few spiders were capable of hopelessly jamming a vials cap. Others were throwing lines around his legs. He wasn't moving that much, just waving his arms, after all.

Finally, it was time. There were only a few Merchants left, and I formed my body, all bees and wasps.

"Surrender." The sound was alien.

"Fuck you!" Boozer said. "We're the Merchants!"

"Well, if not…I am a bit hungry…" It was time for a new trick. My body seemed to dissolve into a black, buzzing cloud. Then I moved forward to engulf the cape.

Boozer screamed and his gang, what few were left of them, decamped in every direction. When he tried to join them, the webbing around his legs tripped him, and he fell flat on his face. Then as he tried to get up, I landed on his face with my swarm. All he could see were bees and wasps, all he could feel were the spiders and cockroaches running all over him and under his body.

"I wonder how you taste," the swarm rumbled. "If you don't want me to find out, don't move."

His screams got really loud.

"Hush."

He fell silent, save for some whimpering as my legions of spiders started wrapping him up. That's when I made my phone call.

"PRT. How can we help you?"

"My name's Orb Weaver. I have a Merchant Cape immobilized and ready for pick up. We're at 5th and North."

"I—understood. Does he present a danger?"

"Not now."

"Understood. Dauntless and Triumph are inbound to your location."

"I'll wait." I could also do some investigating in the meantime.

By the time they arrived, I was down on the street, sticking to the shadows. Triumph stared at Boozer. I'd only left his head exposed, the rest of his body covered in swathes of spider silk.

"It's gonna eat me!" he whimpered.

"Um…" Triumph looked up at me as I walked out.

"It's spider silk. I didn't have anything else to immobilize him with." I gestured at the building. "He's got a lab in there, but you might want to be careful with it."

"We'll give Armsmaster a call," Dauntless said. Staring down at the cape, he whistled. "Okay, that's not a way I'd like to wake up."

"I offered them a chance to surrender," I told him. I pulled a USB stick from my helmet. "I made a copy of the fight."

"Yeah, this'll be pretty good," Dauntless replied. "Boozer…" He frowned. "I think he's wanted for a couple of manslaughter cases down in Miami. Might be the reason he moved up here."

"I was going to be the boss!" Boozer shouted/whimpered.

"You were going to turn a bunch of high Merchants loose on the boardwalk." I shook my head.

"Well, that would turn into a race between us and Kaiser. Not smart," Dauntless said. "Can you stick around to give a statement to the PRT investigator?"

"Sure."

By the time things were over, I'd shaken hands with Dauntless and Triumph (Independents did not ask for autographs, I reminded myself), made my report to the PRT investigator, and managed to head home. It'd taken a little longer than I'd expected, but Boozer was my first Cape catch, even if he wasn't Lung or Kaiser. There was also a reward for him, and I could use the money, for some new gear. There was a drone I was thinking of getting but most importantly…

I had a source for Darwin's Bark spiders, bullet ants and… Well, it'd be harder, but one of Mom's old friends at the college said he might be willing to see if he could get a breeding pair of Japanese Giant Hornets for me.

They would come in useful.

With that, I undressed, setting my bugs to cleaning my uniform, and went to bed.

It had been a good night's work.

Kyle swigged down some booze. The good stuff, not the watered-down stuff you were supposed to drink on the job. He deserved it. He'd been one of the ones suggesting that maybe they should try to suggest that Orb Weaver join the wards. For some reason, Piggot had been dead set against it.

Now he knew why. The video came from a fairly expensive camera, according to Jim and Claire, probably built into her helmet.

It showed a nightmare. A cape screaming as he was devoured by a flying cloud of Hatred. Then when the cloud left, there he was, still screaming, nicely trussed up for Shelob to eat for dinner.

Make her PR friendly? God himself couldn't do that.

Kyle took another swig, both to calm his nerves and to celebrate dodging the fucking bullet made out of spiders, wasps, and hatred.