Widow's Web (Elemental Assassin) (14 page)

I looked at them all in turn, thinking. Then I pulled out my cell phone and called Finn again. He must have been waiting by the phone, because he picked up after the first ring.

“Gin? What’s happening? What’s going on?” Finn asked. “Have you killed Kincaid yet?”

“Sadly, no.”

“Why not?”

I let out a breath. “Because as shocking as this sounds, he’s actually the victim tonight—and has some strange connection to Owen and Eva. Right now, I’m not sure if I know the bad guy from the worse guy.”

“Who could be worse than Kincaid?” Finn asked.

“Salina Dubois,” I said. “I want you to get your hands
on everything you can about her. Right now. Then meet me at Fletcher’s house. And you might want to put a pot of coffee on when you get there. It’s going to be a long night.”

There was nothing else for me to do there, so I said my good-byes to Bria and Xavier. My sister promised to call or drop by my house if she had any news, but I knew she’d be busy well into the night tracking down Salina and seeing what she had to say for herself. Even then, at this point, it was Salina’s word against Kincaid’s, which meant there was nothing Bria could do anyway—to either one of them. Sure, I’d seen what had happened to Antonio and Kincaid, but assassins didn’t exactly make the best witnesses in a court of law.

I walked down the gangplank, across the boardwalk, and into the parking lot. The police cars were still on the scene, their bright lights swiveling around and around in endless loops, but all the students had left. I headed over to where the others stood by Sophia’s convertible.

Owen looked at me. “I’m so sorry you got dragged into the middle of this, Gin. Eva should have known better than to go anywhere near Kincaid, something we will discuss in further detail when we get home.”

“No,” Eva said. “I want to stay at Gin’s house tonight.”

“Eva—” he started.

“Gin’s house is the safest place I know,” she said, her voice trembling just a bit. “I need to feel safe right now, Owen, and I won’t at home. Not when I know Salina’s back in Ashland and that she could show up at the house at any time—that you’d
let
her into the house at any time.”

Owen opened his mouth to argue.

“It’s okay,” I cut in. “You both know you’re welcome to stay with me anytime. I’d love to have the company.”

I didn’t add that them coming home with me tonight was for the best anyway, since we had a lot to talk about.

“Fine,” Owen muttered. “We’ll stay with Gin tonight. But don’t think this gets you out of the punishment you have coming for going behind my back and talking to Phillip.”

Eva’s eyes narrowed, and the siblings glared at each other. Normally, the two of them got along like gang-busters, but whatever had happened in the past had driven a Kincaid-specific wedge between them, one that was still there, even now, all these years later.

Sophia offered to take Violet home. Violet and Eva hugged and exchanged a few whispers before Violet got into Sophia’s car, and the two of them left. I wasn’t surprised when Eva immediately pivoted in her flip-flops, marched over to Finn’s Escalade, threw open the door, and got into the passenger’s seat without another word—or a single glance at her brother. I looked at Owen, who just shrugged, letting me know it was fine.

“I’ll follow you over there,” he said, then pulled me into his arms. “I’m just glad you’re safe, Gin.”

My arms tightened around him, and I breathed in deep, letting his rich scent, the one that always made me think of metal, fill my nose. For a moment, I let myself forget about everything that had happened tonight and just concentrated on Owen—on the feel of his hands on my back, his warm body next to mine, his lips resting against my temple.

Then I exhaled and put all those soft emotions away, because the night wasn’t over yet, and I still hadn’t gotten the answers to any of my questions—answers that I needed now more than ever.

I drew back and looked at him. “I’ll see you at Fletcher’s. Don’t worry. We’ll straighten everything out.”

Owen nodded and headed across the parking lot to his car. I rounded the Escalade and opened the driver’s door. But before I got inside, I looked up.

Phillip Kincaid was leaning over the railing of the
Delta Queen
. The bright globes on the decks above him made his slicked back hair gleam like gold, even as the lights cast his features in darkness and caused his long, ominous shadow to stretch out onto the boardwalk below. No doubt he’d seen the whole thing—Owen and Eva arguing, Eva getting into my car, Owen leaving. I wondered what the casino boss thought of all that, if he’d been pleased Eva had taken his side over her brother’s, if he even knew why she’d done such a thing in the first place.

Kincaid raised his hand to his forehead and gave me a mock salute before stepping away from the railing and disappearing from sight. Once again, I wondered what game he was playing—and why I had a feeling he wasn’t quite the monster Owen said he was.

12

Eva didn’t say a word in the twenty minutes it took for me to drive across town. Instead, she stared out the window and brooded. I didn’t try to question her. There would be plenty of time for that at home.

I turned off the road and steered the Escalade up the rough gravel driveway, leaning into the familiar lumps and bumps as the SUV rocked from side to side. In my rearview mirror, the headlights on Owen’s car bounced up and down as he did the same thing. Eventually, both vehicles chugged to the top of the ridge, and Fletcher’s place came into view.

The old man had left me his ramshackle house, and the sight of it never failed to lift my spirits, even after a night like this one. A light burned on the front porch, illuminating the white clapboard, brown brick, and gray stone that joined together at crazy angles to form the sprawling structure. The house had passed through a lot
of hands over the years, and each of the folks who’d lived here before had added on a room or two onto the structure; hence the mishmash of materials and styles.

The house looked quite a bit worse for wear these days, thanks to all the bullet holes that peppered the front and sides like tiny black eyes. Back in the winter, bounty hunters hot on the trail of the Spider had laid siege to the house. I was still digging bullets out, but I didn’t mind. Fletcher had spent years fortifying his home to withstand just such a standoff, and it had more than held up against the hail of gunfire.

Still, that didn’t mean someone couldn’t be lurking around, waiting to make a run at me. Most of the fools who came after the Spider limited their murderous attempts to the Pork Pit, but a few of the braver ones had sought me out here at home. I supposed I could have moved to some anonymous apartment where folks would have a harder time finding me, but the house was one of the last pieces of Fletcher that I had left, and I’d be damned if anyone was going to make me leave it behind.

“Stay in the car for a minute,” I told Eva as I opened the door and got out.

I motioned for Owen to sit tight in his vehicle as well, then walked around the SUV, placing myself between it and the house. My eyes swept over the landscape, from the black maw of the woods on my left to the flat yard that stretched out to my right before abruptly falling away in a series of jagged cliffs.

I didn’t see any dark figures or shadows that weren’t supposed to be there, although I did spot Finn’s silver Aston Martin parked on the far side of the house, which
meant he was inside already. Good. Hopefully by now Finn had information on Salina that would shed some light on who she was—and why Owen and Eva were mixed up with her and Kincaid.

As a final precaution, I reached out with my Stone magic, listening to the gravel underfoot in the driveway, the rocks scattered at the edge of the woods, and the brick, granite, and concrete that made up the house. But the stones only whispered back of the cars rolling over them, the animals scurrying to and fro in the underbrush, and the spring heat that was building bit by bit and would soon bake them once more.

Satisfied we were safe, I gestured to the others that it was okay for them to get out of the cars. I led Eva and Owen over to the front door, which was made out of solid black granite. The door was strong enough by itself, but thick veins of silverstone also swirled through the stone, adding another layer of protection. No matter how much water magic Salina had, she’d have a tough time using it to blast through the door or pry apart the silverstone bars that covered the windows.

I’d just started to reach for the knob, when the door abruptly opened. Finn stepped outside, a manila file folder tucked under one arm and a steaming cup of coffee in his right hand, despite the warmth of the night. The chicory fumes drifted over to me, making think of his father, since Fletcher had drunk the same rich, dark concoction before he’d died. I wished the old man was here tonight to help me sort out what was going on—and how I could make everything right again, especially between me and Owen.

Despite the fact that I was the one standing right in front of him, Finn leaned to one side and favored Eva with a dazzling smile.

“Why, hello, Eva,” he said in a smooth tone. “You’re looking exceptionally fine this evening. Love the flip-flops.”

Finnegan Lane was many things—an investment banker, an information trader, a greedy connoisseur of all the fine things his ill-gotten gains could buy him, but sometimes, I thought his chief pursuit in life was that of a shameless womanizer. He might have been involved with Bria, but Finn still liked to charm all the women who crossed his path. And he didn’t limit his attention to just the pretty ones. No, Finn was an equal-opportunity flirt—old, young, fat, thin, vampire, human, dwarf, giant. Finn didn’t care who they were or what they looked like as long as they were female.

“Hi, Finn,” Eva replied.

She gave him a wan smile, and the small encouragement caused Finn’s grin to widen that much more. At least, until Owen stepped forward and frowned at him.

“Ah, evening, Owen,” Finn added in a hasty tone. “I didn’t see you standing there.”

“You never do,” Owen murmured.

Finn stuck his head outside a little more, scanning the front porch. “Where’s Kincaid? I thought Gin would hog-tie him and bring him here so we could question him at our leisure.”

Eva and Owen both shifted on their feet. No one said anything. The faint hum of the crickets and cicadas hidden in the grass rose up, but their high-pitched songs did little to ease the tension between us all.

“Well,” Finn drawled, “don’t everyone speak up at once.”

“You have no idea,” I muttered. “No idea at all.”