Elemental Assassin 03 - Venom (20 page)

I filled Roslyn in on what had really happened last night. How Finn and I had been following Elliot Slater
when we’d seen him get the order from Mab, get his goons together, and go after Bria.

Roslyn frowned. “Why do you care if Elliot kills some new cop in town? Why interfere?”

I wasn’t about to confess my familial connection to Bria to the vamp, so I gave her a flip answer. “I thought I could take him out right then and there and let the cop take credit for things. It worked once before, you know.”

Roslyn grimaced. She knew what I was referring to—the night a couple of months ago when I’d killed Alexis James in the Ashland Rock Quarry. Roslyn had been there as one of Alexis’s hostages, along with Finn. Roslyn was the one who’d backed up Donovan Caine’s claim that he’d killed the Air elemental, instead of me.

I thought about what Roslyn had said. So Elliot Slater thought I’d been there to off him last night, not to save Bria from getting dead. Not surprising. Like Mab Monroe, Slater didn’t strike me as someone who thought about other people—except what he wanted to take from them. Still, Finn had been right. Slater would be on his guard now, which would make him that much tougher to kill.

“Anyway, whatever you did, Slater was worried about me. It was all I could do to convince him not to come over to the club and check on me right then.” Roslyn shuddered. “Xavier was at the club with me. If Slater had come over, the mood he was in, he would have killed Xavier just for being there.”

Finn and I nodded. We both knew that I’d pissed off Slater by killing his men last night, and he would have taken his anger out on Xavier—maybe even Roslyn too. Hell, the giant could do that at any time. Beat the
vampire to death with his fists the way he’d almost done to me at the community college. That’s the kind of sick bastard he was. And why he needed to get dead as soon as possible.

“So how did you keep Slater from coming over?” Finn asked.

Roslyn grimaced again. “I told him that I’d go out with him tonight. Some charity gambling tournament on the
Delta Queen.
” She closed her eyes. “He said he wants to take me back to his place afterward. So we can finally… be together the way we should.”

A shiver of fear rippled through the vamp’s body, and her hands trembled against the countertop. Roslyn didn’t have to tell me that the thought of seeing Elliot Slater, much less playing the part of his doting girlfriend, was enough to turn her stomach. Just the idea of the giant putting his hands on her or anyone else made me want to vomit. Not to mention what would happen when Slater got Roslyn back to his house—alone. The vicious ways he would brutalize her all night long.

It wasn’t going to happen, I vowed. Elliot Slater wasn’t going to hurt Roslyn ever again. No matter what I had to do or who saw me do it.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “You’re not going to have to go back to Slater’s place tonight.”

Roslyn’s eyes snapped open.

I looked at Finn. “We needed an opening.”

He frowned. “You can’t be serious, Gin. You can’t kill Elliot Slater on the
Delta Queen
in front of who knows how many witnesses. It’s a fucking
riverboat,
or have you forgotten?”

“I haven’t forgotten, but it’s a place like any other,” I replied. “Don’t make it a challenge. You know how much I like those.”

Finn rubbed his chest like he had a sudden case of heartburn. I didn’t think it was caused by the onions and grease he’d just eaten. The
Delta Queen
was something of an Ashland institution—a riverboat casino that slowly trolled up and down the muddy waters of the Aneirin River. A big, white behemoth straight out of, well, the Mark Twain novel I was reading.

“Come on, Gin, think about it. Elliot’s sure to have some of his men with him,” Finn said. “And this tournament? It’s a big deal. Or at least the party of the month. All my clients at the bank are going, and all the other Ashland bigwigs are sure to be in attendance.”

I sighed. “Look, I know it’s going to be tricky. I’m not denying that. But doing Slater on the riverboat does have some advantages.”

“Name one,” Finn dared.

“One, it’s a public place, which will be easier to get into than his heavily fortified mansion. Two, it will be crowded. Three, there will be alcohol on the premises, which means lots of people will be getting their load on. Drunks tend to be lousy witnesses. Four, and perhaps most important, I can dump Slater’s body over the side when I’m finished with him instead of trying to stuff him in a closet somewhere.” I ticked the points off on my fingers. “Shall I go on?”

Finn rubbed his chest again. “Everything you say is true, but it’s still dangerous, Gin. Slater could scream or get away from you before you finish him off. And if he
does, if his men or the casino guards hear him, you’re the one who won’t get off the boat alive.”

“I know all that. But those are the same risks I would have with any job.”

“So why are you so eager to take those chances?” he asked. “Why now that you’ve retired?”

“Because I don’t want Roslyn to have to go home with that bastard,” I said in a quiet voice. “Understand?”

I didn’t mention that it was because the whole situation was my fault to begin with. That Roslyn had suffered so much already because of me and that I wasn’t going to let her be hurt anymore.

Finn could easily see the guilt in my eyes.

Then his green gaze cut to Roslyn and the obvious strain in her eyes and face and clenched fists. Right now, the vamp resembled a life-size porcelain doll—one that would shatter if you so much as breathed on her. Finn realized what I had—that the vamp was on the edge. That she couldn’t take another night of being Elliot Slater’s plaything. Not again. Not without cracking and screaming and fighting back with everything she had—and then getting dead because of her defiance.

“All right,” Finn said in a low voice. “All right. We’ll do it. But how are you going to get close to him? Like I said before, Slater’s sure to be on the lookout for any strange woman approaching him after what happened at Bria’s house last night. More important, the giant already knows you, Gin. Slater knows who you are, what you look like, and that you have a grudge against him. You won’t be able to sweet-talk him and get him alone like you did Tobias Dawson.”

“I didn’t sweet-talk Dawson. I got knocked out and woke up in a coal mine. What part of that says
sweet-talk
to you?”

Finn gave me a tiny grin, trying to lighten the mood. “Some guys are into that sort of thing.”

I rolled my eyes. Finn was so much more disturbed than I was. All I did was kill people with my silverstone knives. Clean, simple, straightforward, to the point. Finn was the one who liked to dabble in the kinky stuff—with any woman who would have him.

The front door of the restaurant opened. The bell chimed, interrupting my unwanted musings on Finn’s proclivities. I looked toward the door, grateful for the interruption, until I saw exactly who was standing in the Pork Pit—Detective Bria Coolidge.

My baby sister was here in my gin joint, in my place of business. Bria stood in the doorway, surveying the restaurant much the same way Roslyn had done just minutes before. Blond hair, blue eyes, rosy skin. She looked no worse for wear, despite the fact that she’d been shot and almost killed last night. She sported a long, navy coat over a pair of dark jeans, a black turtleneck sweater, and stylish black boots. Her primrose rune gleamed a bright silver against the inky fabric of her sweater. Bria’s eyes flicked over the interior of the Pork Pit before settling on Finn, Roslyn, and me clustered together at the counter. She headed toward us.

Finn shot me a troubled glance. I knew exactly what he was thinking, because it was the same thought spinning through my mind. What was Bria doing here? Had
she somehow realized that we were the masked duo who’d saved her from Elliot Slater and his giants last night? Had she somehow, some way, tracked us back to the Pork Pit? Was she here to arrest us for killing the giants?

Bria stepped up to the counter next to Roslyn. She looked at the vamp a moment, clearly surprised to see her here. Her cool gaze frosted over even more at the sight of Finn, who grinned at her. Finally, Bria turned her attention to me. “I’m looking for Gin Blanco.”

“That would be me,” I replied. “Is there something I can help you with?”

Bria reached into her coat and drew out a gold badge. She flashed it at me, then stuffed it back into her pocket. “I’m Detective Bria Coolidge with the Ashland Police Department. I’m here to ask you a few questions about the beating you took the other night. We met there, if you remember.”

Some of the tension eased out of my body. So that’s why she was here. Following up about me getting almost beaten to death at the hands of Elliot Slater. Not because of what happened last night. Not because I was the mysterious, masked woman who’d saved her from being murdered in her own home. Not because she’d recognized me. Not because she’d realized that I was really her long-lost big sister, Genevieve Snow.

“Ms. Phillips, why don’t you take your cake over to one of the booths so I can speak to the detective?” I asked in my most polite voice. “I’ll have the rest of your order ready in a jiffy.”

Roslyn stared at me, then Bria. Curiosity filled the vamp’s face. She realized Bria was the cop I’d saved from
Slater last night, but Roslyn knew better than to ask questions or make a scene.

“Of course. Take your time,” the vampire said, going along with me. She picked up the glass of milk and cake and walked over to a booth in the back of the restaurant.

With Roslyn out of the way, Finn was free to turn around on his stool and give Bria the slow head-to-toe appraisal he reserved for women he was thinking about seducing. Finn smiled his approval. He liked what he saw.

“What are you looking at?” Bria snapped.

“Just you, detective.” Finn’s grin widened. “Just you.”

Her eyes narrowed, but not before I saw a small spark of something flash in the blue depths—attraction. However unwanted it might be, Bria found Finn smug, but appealing. Couldn’t blame her for that. Especially since I’d slept with him myself back during my foolish teenage years. With his green eyes, solid figure, and devilish smile, Finn had seduced far more frosty and intimidating women than Detective Bria Coolidge.

But Finn and Bria? That was another complication I didn’t need right now.

“There’s not much to tell, detective,” I said, interrupting their heated staring contest. “Like I told you before, I fell down.”

Bria looked at me. Her mouth flattened into a hard line. “You fell down? Original.”

I gave her a bland smile. Now was not the time to be a smart-ass. Smart-asses were memorable for any number of reasons, and right now, I needed her to forget all about me. At least until after I’d killed Elliot Slater.

Bria kept staring at me, her gaze sweeping over my
features and down what she could see of my body—mainly, my grease-stained blue apron and long-sleeved black T-shirt. “Well, you seem to have healed nicely. Looks like your brother here did in fact get you to that Air elemental healer and the best medical treatment in Ashland.”

“I always keep my promises,” Finn replied in a mild tone.

Bria raised an eyebrow but didn’t rise to his baiting. “Your foster brother seems to care quite a bit about you, Ms. Blanco.”

“Foster brother?” I asked, already knowing the answer to my question.

“He is your foster brother, isn’t he?” Bria asked. “The son of Fletcher Lane, the man who adopted you as a child? The man who left you his barbecue restaurant to run?”

“You’ve been checking up on me, detective.”

Bria stared at me. “Just doing my job, Ms. Blanco. Just doing my job. Which is why I want to ask you some questions about your attack at the community college the other night.”

I gritted my teeth, my admiration for Bria’s tenacity warring with my own frustration. Now was not the time for her to be darkening my doorstep asking questions that I wasn’t going to answer—ever.

“There’s nothing to report. I fell down. End of story. Can I offer you a piece of cake before you go, detective?”

Since I wasn’t giving up any information, Bria decided to switch tactics.

“Are you afraid of someone?” she asked in a softer tone. “Would it help if we spoke privately, Ms. Blanco?”

I looked at her. “The only person I’m afraid of is my
cook, Detective Coolidge. And that’s only because she puts too much salt in her macaroni salad. I told you before, and I’m telling you again. I fell down that night at the community college—repeatedly. Now, why don’t you go out there on the mean streets of Ashland and help someone who really needs it? Because I’m doing just fine.”

My tone was harsher than I would have liked it to be for my first real face-to-face meeting with the sister I hadn’t seen in seventeen years. But she wasn’t going to take no for an answer, any more than I would have in her situation. This was the way it had to be right now. I hated to be rude to my own sister, but I had things I needed to do if I had any chance of taking care of Elliot Slater tonight. The sooner I killed the giant, the sooner I could move on to other things—like figuring out how Bria fit into my life and if I could ever really be a part of hers.

“Is it your foster brother?” Bria asked, turning her cold gaze to Finn. “Is he the one who beat you? The one you’re afraid of?”

I laughed. “Finn? Beat me? Hardly. He’d stab himself in the eye before he ever laid a hand on me.”

Finn gave Bria another charming smile. “I’m thoughtful that way, detective.”

She stared at him another moment. Her eyes flicked to me, then to Roslyn Phillips. The vamp huddled in a booth in the back of the restaurant, pretending to be interested in her cake. Roslyn was a better actress than I’d thought. I might have believed my chocolate-chip pound cake was the best she’d ever had, if I hadn’t known she was merely picking at it while listening to our every word.

“You know, a lot of people in Ashland don’t seem to
remember things that happened to them,” Bria said. “Beatings, assaults, intimidations.”

“Must be something in the water,” I said in a dry tone. “Some chemical that promotes memory loss.”