By a Thread (22 page)

Owen frowned. “Like you were on the dinner menu, and he was the only one who knew it.”

His words echoed what I'd felt when I'd looked into Vanessa's eyes a few minutes ago. I didn't have precognition, and I couldn't see the future, not like my Air elemental friend Jo-Jo Deveraux, but something wasn't right. Oh, the stones of the mansion whispered to me of all the violent things Dekes had done here over the years, but there was more to it than that. I just couldn't put my finger on exactly what
that mysterious
it
might be.

For a moment, I thought about calling the whole thing off. Just walking away, leaving the mansion, and pretending I'd never heard of Randall Dekes. It would definitely be the safer option, at least until I could gather some more intel on the vampire and his magic, whatever it might be. Fletcher had always told me to trust my instincts, and mine were warning me away from Dekes like red lights flashing at a train crossing. Get on the tracks to try and beat the train, and you were going to get splattered.

But I couldn't cut and run. Not when Callie was counting on me to get Dekes to leave her alone, even if she wouldn't admit it to herself—or Donovan. I couldn't abandon Bria's friend any more than I could any of the other people who'd asked me for help over the last few months. Warren and Violet Fox, Roslyn Phillips, Vinnie and Natasha Volga.

Like it or not, I'd changed, and I wasn't the cold-blooded assassin I used
to be. Bit by bit, piece by piece, my heart had slowly thawed, until now I was just as determined to help people as I was to kill them—even if one almost always seemed to follow the other these days.

Dekes finished his latest round of handshaking and started scanning the lawn, no doubt looking for me. The vampire's eyes settled on me, and he smiled, showing me the white glint of his fangs once more. Dekes raised his eyebrows and pointed to the house, indicating that he was ready for our meeting. I held up my index finger, telling him I'd be there in a minute, just as soon as I finished looking over the casino model and writing down a few more notes.

“All right,” I murmured to Owen, tucking my pad back into my bag. “I'm going in. Keep an eye out. If something goes wrong, you, Finn, and Bria get out of here. I'll find a way to slip out, make it back to the beach house, and meet up with you.”

“I don't want to leave you alone here, Gin,” Owen murmured.

“I know,” I said in a soft voice. “I know that you want to come with me and protect me more than anything else. And that's why I love you. But I've got work to do. That's the other thing I love about you—you let me do what needs to be done to help other people.”

Owen's broad shoulders tightened with tension, but after a moment, he let out a small sigh and nodded his head. I brought my hand down, brushing my fingers against Owen's. He reached out and caught my hand in his for a second before letting go.

“Be careful,” he whispered.

I smiled, even though
he couldn't see it with his back turned to me. “Always.”

I left Owen's side and strolled over to Dekes. The vampire held out his arm to me, and I looped my hand over the crook of his elbow. Once again, I felt that crackle of elemental power in the air around him. I half expected to get a jolt when I touched him, just like I had a few months ago when I'd taken on Elektra LaFleur, an assassin who'd had electrical elemental magic. But my fingers settled against his arm, and all I felt was the rich, expensive fabric of Dekes's suit.

Still, the feel of his magic—whatever the hell it was—brushed against my skin and clung there like a spider's sticky web. It wasn't an uncomfortable feeling, not exactly, not like Mab's Fire power had always been with its hot, sharp, pricking sensation, but it was enough to make me even more cautious around the vampire.

“Are you ready for our interview?” Dekes said.

“Of course. Thank you for making time for me.”

The vampire smiled, showing me a little more of the two fangs in his mouth and the hunger burning in his eyes. “Anything for a beautiful woman.”

Dekes led me inside, then up two staircases to the third floor of the mansion. To my surprise and frustration, two giant guards separated themselves from the crowd outside and trailed after us. I'd hoped to shove Dekes into the first dark, secluded corner that we came to and tell him what was what, but that wasn't going to happen with his two goons a mere three steps behind us and even more guards roaming through the hallways. I could take out the giants easily enough, but add Dekes
and his mysterious elemental magic to the mix, and the situation could quickly spin out of my control. So I decided to wait and see how this farce played out. Sooner or later, Dekes would have to send his men away—unless he liked to fuck in front of an audience. Maybe he did. Stranger things had happened to me as the Spider. If it came to that, well, I'd think of something. I always did.

While we walked, Dekes chatted about various pieces of art that we passed. Paintings, statues, carvings. Most of the items were things you'd find in the home of any wealthy businessman. But the deeper we moved into the mansion, the more I noticed other things—quirky things, odd things, even downright bizarre things. A marble chess set sitting on a table between two empty chairs. Cases full of guns, knives, swords, and other weapons. Miniature airplanes dangling from the ceiling on thin strands of fishing line. A row of lockets, each one open to show the faded locks of hair curled inside. Even a display of antique dolls in frilly dresses. Their open, empty, staring glass eyes seemed to follow me as we strolled past them.

Dekes also seemed to have a fascination with pirates and shipwrecks. Gold coins, silver goblets, jewel-crusted daggers, and more glittered in glass cases, along with small, perfect models of the ships that the plunder had supposedly come from.

All of the items were clean, polished, and in mint condition, even the dolls. If Finn had been here, he would have been salivating, especially over the gold and the jewels. But Dekes just strolled by all the finery, barely pausing to glance at it before moving on to the next room, the next case, and the next treasure
that it contained. He had all these fine things, exquisite things, but it seemed like the vamp had long ago lost interest in them, as if knowing that he possessed them was enough, and he had no further need to admire or even look at them ever again.

“Your home is lovely,” I said. “You seem to be quite the collector—of all sorts of unusual things.”

“Mmm. Yes, I suppose you could say that I'm a collector. Some would call my tastes eclectic, but if I see something that I want, then I go after it,” Dekes murmured. “No matter what it is and what it takes to acquire it. The biggest, the best, the most expensive, the most delicate, the macabre, and the unusual. It fascinates me, the things people hold dear, the things that they value.”

“And what's your favorite thing to collect? Paintings? Sculptures? Antiques?”

He smiled, and for a moment, I felt a surge of elemental magic roll off him. “Nothing so mundane as that. I simply enjoy surrounding myself with beautiful, powerful women.”

I wondered at his odd answer, but I kept the conversation going, mindful of the two giants still watching me. “It seems to me like you already have one of those. Your wife is quite stunning.”

Most men would have bragged long and hard and loud if they'd had a beauty like Vanessa on their arm and in their bed, but Dekes waved a hand, dismissing my comment. “My wife has her uses. That's why I married her. But I find the old saying to be true—variety really is the spice of life. I tend to live for the moment and all the pleasures that can be had in it.”

His words were meant
to be seductive, the kind of sly double-talk that rich men indulged in with women they thought were beneath them but wanted to fuck anyway. Still, something in the vampire's tone worried me. There was a smugness in his voice, a note of sly triumph, like he knew something that I didn't. It worried me—and I didn't like to be worried.

Finally, we reached a pair of double doors at the end of a long hallway. By this point, we were in an entirely separate wing from the pool where the press conference had been held. Except for the two giants trailing us, I couldn't have asked for a more perfect spot to have my chat with Dekes. We were far enough away from the south lawn that no one would hear the giants or the vampire scream if I decided to kill them. But instead of making me feel better, the deserted location ratcheted up my tension.

In my experience, nothing was ever this easy. I could almost see a giant cartoon anchor hovering in the air over my head. I just didn't know when it was going to drop on me—and how bad the damage would be when it did.

“And now, another one of my pride and joys,” Dekes said in a vaguely bored voice.

He threw open the double doors, stepped inside, and turned around, his hands spread out wide, inviting me to follow him inside. By this point, it felt like the giants were hemming me in instead of just protecting their boss. Since I didn't have another option, I walked forward.

We stood in a massive library, which was just as rich, lavish, and immaculate as the rest of the mansion. Dark, glossy wooden shelves stretched from the floor to the ceiling, with ladders on rollers attached to the sides so that folks could have access to
the books on the top shelves. A stone fireplace took up the middle of the back wall, while several chairs, a table, a rolltop desk, and a green leather sofa perched in front of it. Titles by classic American authors like Edgar Allan Poe and Mark Twain filled the shelves closest to me, the gold and silver foil on the spines gleaming like the pirate doubloons that I'd seen in other parts of the mansion. A pair of French doors set into the far wall led out to a wide patio. Next to the doors, a wet bar was stuffed into the back corner of the library, and a crystal goblet had already been set out, probably on Dekes's orders so that he could have a nightcap or two after his press conference was over with. I wondered if the vampire preferred blood or liquor to help him relax. I was betting blood.

“A library,” I said. “How charming.”

“It's more than merely
charming
,” Dekes said. “I have several valuable first editions in here, and the temperature is climate-controlled to keep them in pristine condition, given the wretched humidity on this island. One of the joys of being a vampire is the long life span. Books that I bought for a pittance a hundred years ago are quite valuable today.”

Vampires could live a long, long time, just like dwarves. Five hundred years wasn't an uncommon age for both of those races to reach, while giants and elementals only tended to reach the one hundred fifty mark or so. Finn had estimated Dekes to be at least three hundred, which meant that he'd reached middle age in vampire years.

Some folks even speculated that vampires could live indefinitely, as long as they had a steady supply of blood and took care of their bodies
by exercising, eating right, and whatnot. But I'd never heard of a vamp making it much past five hundred. The longer folks lived, the more enemies they tended to make, and the greater the chance was of one of those enemies hiring someone like me to step in and cut a vamp's life short.

Dekes walked over to the fireplace. I trailed along behind him, with the giants bringing up the rear. My eyes scanned the library for cameras, phones, and anything that looked like a panic button that the vampire might reach out and press when I made my move. Two giants at my back were two too many, and I didn't want him summoning even more of his men in here.

“Actually, I have a confession to make. I brought you here because I was told that you like books,” Dekes said, turning to face me.

I looked at him, wariness slowly creeping up my spine like a cold finger. “How could you possibly know that?”

“An old friend of mine told me how very fond you are of reading.”

Suspicion surged through me at his easy tone, but I forced myself to play along and ask the obvious question. “And what friend would that be?”

Dekes's smile widened. “Why, Jonah McAllister, of course. He's told me quite a bit about you, Ms. Blanco. Tell me, do you care if I call you Gin?”

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