Elemental Assassin 03 - Venom (15 page)

“What was that?” one of the giants muttered.

“I don’t know—” Another man started to respond when another series of
pop-pop-pop
s shattered the quiet.

Someone else returned fire, and I used the noise and distraction to slip out of the bathroom and forward to the end of the hallway. It opened up into a large, square living room that looked like a tornado had ripped through the area. Broken lamps, overturned furniture, shattered knickknacks, cardboard packing boxes that had been split open from things falling on top of them.

To my surprise, a giant lay dead just inside the doorway. He slumped against the wall, staring up at the ceiling. I spotted a couple of bullet wounds clustered in the middle of his chest, but that wasn’t what had killed him—it was the Ice. The giant’s face looked blue and brittle, an inch of white frost had gathered in his hair, and his eyes resembled frozen marbles. Large icicles hung off his nose and chin, and his mouth was open in a silent scream.

The human body is mostly water. Flash-freeze that water using elemental Ice magic, and, well, you’ve got yourself a human Popsicle. Not a pretty way to die, but an effective method of dealing with an enemy who’s bigger and stronger than you. That bluish white flash I’d seen before must have been Bria laying her Ice whammy on the giant. The temperature was also at least ten degrees
colder in here than in the rest of the house, due to Bria using her Ice power. My breath frosted in the air.

But the Iced giant was the only person I saw. A short wall ran out into the middle of the room, hiding the other half from sight.
Pop-pop-pop.
Bria and the giants were still exchanging gunfire, and the stench of cordite hung in the air, along with my frosty breath. I crept over to the wall and peered around it. Elliot Slater and his two remaining goons crouched behind an overturned couch about fifteen feet in front of me. Only one of the giants had a gun. Slater and the other man just huddled there, waiting for an opening.

I looked past the couch. Through a tangle of upended tables and chairs, I spotted an oversize stone fireplace. Bria had taken refuge inside the hollow space. I could just see her toes peeking out from behind the stone. She was trapped. Slater had been right. It was only a matter of time before she ran out of ammo. Then the three giants could just charge her and rip her apart with their bare hands. From the smile on Elliot Slater’s face and the way he kept flexing his hands, he seemed to be looking forward to that prospect.

A hard smile curved my own lips. Just like I was looking forward to gutting the giant. For Roslyn Phillips, and now for Bria too.

The shooting stopped, and I heard a hollow
click.
Bria let out a soft curse. She was out of bullets, which meant it was time for me to make my move. A knife in either hand, I stepped around the short wall and let out a low whistle. The giant closest to me turned at the sound, and I threw one of my knives at him. The weapon sank into
his left shoulder socket. He growled in pain, and the gun he’d been holding slipped out of his numb fingers. Slater and the other man whirled around in surprise.

“Who the fuck are you?” Slater snapped, his eyes flicking over my blood-spattered clothes and ski mask.

I grinned and grabbed another knife from the small of my back. “Your worst nightmare.”

His hazel eyes narrowed. “We’ll see about that, bitch.”

Slater started toward me, but the giant I’d winged had other ideas. He pulled my silverstone knife out of his shoulder and stepped in front of his boss. Slater stopped and pointed over his shoulder at the fireplace where Bria was still hiding.

“Get the cop!” Slater roared at the third man. “Get Coolidge before she gets away! Now!”

The other giant nodded and turned toward the fireplace. I threw one of my knives at him. The weapon sank into the giant’s back, and he grunted. From the way he moved, I knew I hadn’t done any major damage, but maybe it would slow him down enough for me to take care of Elliot Slater and the other man coming toward me.

The giant I’d winged crossed over to me in three steps and slashed at me with my own knife. I ducked the wide blow. Even as I lunged down, I slashed his femoral artery on his right leg. Black, arterial blood sprayed in my face, but I ignored the warm, stinging sensation and grabbed a fourth knife out of one of my boots. As I came up, I used that weapon to open up the artery on his left leg. The giant howled again and staggered back. I slammed my boot into one of his knees. The change of tactics surprised
him, and he stumbled away and flipped over the lopsided couch. He wasn’t dead yet, but he’d bleed out quick, especially if he kept thrashing around.

Meanwhile, Bria had crept out of the fireplace. She grabbed one of the long, metal pokers and held it out in front of her like a sword. I could see blood on her face and clothes, but I couldn’t tell how badly she was injured. The giant I’d thrown my weapon at reached around, pulled the knife out of his own back, and advanced on her. I scurried to one side to go help Bria, when a flash of movement caught my eye. I instinctively threw myself to the left. Elliot Slater’s ham-size fist whistled past my cheek, and I turned to face the quick giant.

Slater regarded me with his cold hazel eyes. “You know you’re going to die for interfering with me.”

“Really? Tell that to your two buddies that I’ve killed—so far,” I mocked.

Slater regarded me another moment, then snapped his hand up. I’d been expecting the punch and jerked back, but he still managed a glancing blow to my stomach that forced some of the air from my lungs. It was bad enough that Slater had a giant’s inherent strength and toughness. Why did he have to be so fucking quick too? That just wasn’t fair. Slater came at me again, and I was too busy dodging his blows to lament the fact that he was so much faster than me.

Another flash of motion caught my eye. On the other side of the room, the front door swung open, and a figure dressed in dark clothes stepped inside. The figure paused a moment, taking in me fighting with Elliot Slater and Bria swinging her fireplace poker at the other giant.

“Hey, buddy,” the figure called out. “You want some help with her?”

The giant turned, and Finn shot him in the face four times. Fletcher Lane might not have trained his son to be an assassin like me, but the old man had taught Finn everything he knew about weapons—including how to shoot a gun. Hell, Finn was a better shot than I was. Which is why Finn’s first bullet went through the giant’s right eye and up into his skull. The giant’s head snapped back, and he was already on his way to dead when Finn’s next three bullets shattered his face. Bria flinched as the giant’s blood, bone, and brain tissue splattered on her face and body. But she didn’t scream. For some reason, that made me even prouder of her than the freezer trick.

And then there was one—Elliot Slater.

The giant looked over his shoulder at his dead minions and Finn, who was rapidly advancing on us. I wouldn’t have thought him capable of it, but Slater actually did the smart thing.

He ran.

I surged forward, wanting to kill him right here, right now, and take care of Roslyn Phillips’s problem. But once again, Elliot Slater was quicker than I was. The giant slammed his fist into my stomach again and shoved me out of the way. Then, he dove headfirst through the nearest window and out into the dark night.

11

I just lay where I’d fallen, sprawled halfway over a table. Gun at the ready, Finn rushed over to the window and looked outside.

“Slater?” I croaked, still trying to suck down as much oxygen as I could. The giant had connected with his last blow, and it felt like he’d broken a couple of my ribs—again.

Finn drew back and shook his head. “Gone already. He moves fast for a giant.”

I nodded. I’d gone fist-to-fist with him, so Slater’s speedy getaway didn’t surprise me. Even if it was damn inconvenient. But the giant was just going to have to get dead another night. Right now, I had Bria to think of—and the bodies and blood that littered her house like old newspapers.

“So now what?” Finn asked.

“Time to call in the cleanup crew,” I said. “Get both of them over here right now.”

Although his black ski mask obscured his features, Finn still managed to raise his eyebrows at me. “Both of them? Not just our dark and twisty friend?”

I nodded. “Both of them.”

“You’re the boss.” Finn pulled his cell phone out of the pocket of his black khakis, moved to the other side of the living room, and started dialing Sophia Deveraux.

I drew in a breath and turned to face Bria. My baby sister stood in front of the fireplace, the long metal poker clenched in her hands and propped on her shoulder like it was a baseball bat she was eager to swing at my head. Bria must have been getting ready for bed when Slater and his men had burst through the back door. She wore a pair of faded, flannel, baby blue pajama pants with a matching shirt. Her feet were bare, although her toes were painted a dark magenta. Jo-Jo Deveraux would have approved of the color.

Despite the late hour, Bria still wore her primrose rune on a chain around her neck. I wondered if she ever took off the necklace. I was guessing no. The silverstone medallion caught the light and flashed at me like a traffic signal. Warning of danger, in more ways than one.

My eyes flicked over her body, looking for injuries. A couple of rough scrapes marred Bria’s beautiful features, probably from where she’d thrown herself into the fireplace. More cuts and bruises dotted her arms and hands, and the sleeves of her shirt had been ripped and shredded in places. Purple circles of exhaustion ringed her blue eyes, and blood had matted in the ends of her shaggy, layered, blond hair. But what concerned me most was the ever-increasing circle of blood on the right side of
her body, parallel with her belly button. She’d been shot, judging from the bullet hole that blackened the fabric of her shirt.

Anyone else probably would have been whimpering on the floor by now, but Bria stood there, as though the gut wound was of no more consequence to her than what she’d eaten for dinner. Whatever else she might be, whatever secrets she had, I knew one thing—my sister was one tough cookie. Just like me.

Bria stared back at me. Wariness shimmered in her blue gaze. “Who the hell are you? What are you doing here?” she demanded, tightening her grip on the fireplace poker.

The motion made three rings glint on her left index finger—thin bands stacked on top of each other. Silverstone, from the way they caught the light.

“Saving your ass.” I moved around the couch so that I stood directly in front of her. “Why? What does it look like we’re doing?”

Her bruised features tightened. “I didn’t need your help.”

I stared down at the giant in front of the couch, the one whose femoral arteries I’d severed with my silverstone knives. He’d clamped his hands over his legs to try and stem the blood flow, but it hadn’t worked. The giant’s dead, glassy eyes fixed on the ceiling fan.

“Really?” I asked. “And here I thought you were trapped in a fireplace with three very large, very strong giants just waiting for you to run out of bullets so they could come over and beat you to death. Or am I misinterpreting the situation?”

Bria’s mouth twisted. Whether it was from pain or annoyance, I wasn’t quite sure.

“Tell me,” I asked, bending down to examine the giant. “What exactly did you do to piss off Mab Monroe enough for her to send Elliot Slater and his goons out here to kill you? Now, Mab isn’t lacking for flunkies, but she sent her numero uno after you tonight.”

“That’s between me and Mab,” Bria said in a frosty voice. “I don’t see how it’s any of your business.”

I was mildly surprised that Bria didn’t deny the fact that she’d done something to upset Mab. “In case you couldn’t tell from the bodies, I’ve decided to make it my business. So you might as well tell me.”

Bria’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not telling you a damn thing. If I were you, I’d think about leaving—right now. I’m a homicide detective, and I’ve already called for backup. A couple of units should be here any minute.”

I finished my examination of the dead giant, got to my feet, and turned to face my sister once more.