Spider's Bite

31

Finn drove me straight to Jo-Jo’s. This time he had to help me up to the porch while he banged the cloud-shaped rune knocker against the door.

The familiar, heavy footsteps sounded, and a moment later, Jo-Jo Deveraux threw open the door. Her eyes widened at the sight of my battered, blistered face.

“Ding-dong,” I said. “The bitch is dead.”

Jo-Jo just smiled.

“Are you sure you couldn’t have killed her sooner, Gin?” Finn asked. “Before she made your skin look like you had the worst case of chicken pox and poison ivy ever?”

“I don’t know,” I sniped. “Why don’t we rewind time and see how you would have fared against Alexis James’s Air magic?”

Finn cocked an eyebrow. Jo-Jo sat in front of me, but I glared over her head at him.

“Shush,” Jo-Jo said. The dwarf’s eyes glowed white with magic. “It’s harder to concentrate while you two are having one of your spats.”

Jo-Jo had spent the last hour pouring her magic into me. Unlike Finn’s previous wounds, most of mine had been caused by elemental magic, which meant they were harder to heal, despite Jo-Jo’s own strength and expertise. Magic was always harder to undo than it was to create in the first place.

The dwarf using so much of her magic on me at one time also hurt like hell. Even though I knew Jo-Jo would never harm me, my body felt like it was still back in the rock quarry being thrashed with Alexis James’s Air magic. Which is why Sofia Deveraux stood behind me, pinning my arms to my sides so I wouldn’t move or try to get up out of the padded chair before Jo-Jo was finished with me.

She sent another surge of her Air magic into my left arm, working on the bullet that was still lodged in there. I gritted my teeth and looked for something to focus on besides the way Jo-Jo’s power made the spider rune scars on my palms itch and burn — along with the rest of my body. My eyes latched onto Sophia’s hands. Despite the Goth dwarf’s love affair with black, pale, little-girl-pink polish covered her short fingernails.

“Nice color,” I said.

Sophia grunted her agreement and tightened her grip on me. I bit back a groan. I could have been pinned under a Mack truck, and it wouldn’t have felt as strong and solid as Sophia’s hands. No wonder she could throw dead bodies around like they were plastic dolls.

While Jo-Jo worked, Finn filled the dwarven sisters in on everything that had happened the past few days.

“So Alexis James actually thought she was going to dethrone Mab Monroe?” Jo-Jo asked. “She’s not the first one to think that way. Poor girl was really touched in the head, wasn’t she?”

“Stupid,” Sophia agreed in her raspy voice.

I thought of the pure, raw power Alexis James had possessed. Her desire to take on Mab for control of Ashland didn’t sound as far-fetched to me as it once had. But Alexis was dead now, and that was all that mattered.

After Jo-Jo fixed the damage, Sophia let go of my arms, and she and Finn moved into the kitchen to get something to eat. Jo-Jo got up, went over to the sink, and washed my blood off her hands. I stayed where I was in the padded chair, relaxing.

“You were wrong,” I said.

Jo-Jo wiped her hands off on a paper towel. “About what?”

“About nothing being able to penetrate my Stone magic. Alexis James’s Air power did.”

The dwarf shrugged. “You said yourself your concentration broke. Next time, you’ll know what to expect. Besides, you’re still young, Gin. You’re just now fully coming into your power.”

“But Alexis was stronger than I was,” I protested. “Her magic was stronger. I felt it. You saw what she did to me with it.”

Jo-Jo gave me a sly look. “If she was so strong, how come she’s rotting out in the quarry and you’re sitting here in my chair?”

I didn’t have an answer to that.

The dwarf chuckled. “Pure strength is one thing, darling, whether it’s magical or natural. It’ll only get you so far. But how you use what you’ve been given — that’s what really matters. When you figure that out, ain’t nobody going to be able to touch you. Not even me or Mab Monroe.”

Jo-Jo threw her paper towel away and started puttering around the salon. While she worked, I just sat there in the chair pondering her words — and the cold fear they raised in me.

The Alexis James story played out for the next week. To say it was a circus would have been to underestimate the rabid appetite of the Ashland media. Story after story flooded the airwaves and newspapers about James and the trail of bodies in her wake. Donovan Caine must have been a better liar than I’d given him credit for, because the detective placed the blame for everything on Alexis, and nobody seemed willing to contradict him.

Haley James might have, if she’d been able to. But her home burned to the ground with her in it the night after the incident at the rock quarry. Only the house’s stone foundation survived the blaze, along with a few of Haley’s teeth. Everything else was totally obliterated by the heat. The fire was ruled an accident, and the coroner said Haley probably died from smoke inhalation, since he didn’t actually have her body to autopsy. But I had no doubt Mab Monroe had paid Haley a visit for hiding Alexis’s activities from her. So the very thing Haley had feared came true after all. Irony. What a bitch.

Finn made his own discreet inquiries into the matter, reaching out to his various contacts. He wanted to know if Haley had spilled her guts to Mab, if she’d said anything to the Fire elemental about Fletcher, Finn, or me. About what we did or what the James sisters had hired us to do. But evidently, Haley had never gotten the chance. Rumor had it that Mab had been so enraged at Haley’s part in the embezzlement scheme that the Fire elemental had fried her on the spot. No questions asked. And with Alexis and the rest of her men dead, there was no one else to tell the tale. Which meant that Finn and I were safe from anyone else nosing around or blowing our cover to Mab.

A week after the incident at the rock quarry, we buried Fletcher in Blue Ridge Cemetery. Me, Finn, Jo-Jo, Sophia, the waitstaff and cooks from the Pork Pit, some of Fletcher’s buddies, who were as gnarled and old and grumpy as he’d been. Roslyn Phillips also showed up for the service, although the vampire stood off to one side by herself.

It was another gorgeous fall day. Cerulean blue sky, bright sun, clouds that were smoother than marshmallow creme. The cemetery stood on a plateau on top of one of the mountains that ringed Ashland and offered a spectacular view of the sprawling city and countryside below. The grass gleamed like gold underfoot, while the burnt sienna and scarlet leaves painted the landscape with even more color. The mountaintops around us were smoky blue smudges against the sky.

We ringed a plain wooden casket burnished to a high gloss. Fletcher hadn’t wanted anything fancy, he hadn’t been that kind of man, and Finn had respected his father’s wishes. The preacher had just started the graveside service, and people were already weepy. Several of the waitstaff and cooks snuffled into tissues. The old men dabbed their eyes with white handkerchiefs. Finn did the same. Jo-Jo Deveraux bawled like a baby, unashamed of her many tears, even though they were ruining her makeup. Sophia stood over her older sister, patting her back. The younger dwarf was dry-eyed, just like me. I’d cried my tears the night I’d found Fletcher’s body. Now, I just felt … empty. Hollow. Another piece of my heart was gone, and it was never coming back. Just like all the other bits I’d lost over the years.

As the preacher spoke the traditional words of comfort, my mind drifted back to the day Fletcher had taken me in …

My family had been gone nine weeks now. Maybe ten. Time had little meaning to me anymore. All that mattered was finding enough food for one more day and someplace that wasn’t too cold to sleep at night. Something that was getting more difficult as winter approached. My favorite spot was next to this barbecue restaurant called the Pork Pit. A crack in the alley across from the back of the restaurant was just big enough for me to squeeze into. I liked the small, tight space and the muted contentment of the stones in the surrounding buildings. Both of them made me feel safe, even though I knew it was only an illusion.

Then there was the tall guy who ran the restaurant. Barbecue Man. That’s what I called him. He knew I hung around out back, but he didn’t yell or chase me away like the folks at the Italian and Chinese restaurants did. He even let me do odd jobs for him, like sweep out the stockroom. Last week I’d helped him defrost the freezers and clean these weird pink stains out of them.

He’d given me fifty bucks for a day’s work. I’d used the money to buy a black fleece jacket, a turtleneck, and the thickest pair of gloves they had at the Goodwill store. Barbecue Man was a lot nicer than the nuns over at the soup kitchen. They wanted to save your soul before they offered you so much as a glass of water. Hypocrites.

Barbecue Man had given me a hamburger a little over an hour ago for cleaning the gum off the tables in the front of the restaurant. I licked the last of the crumbs from my fingers, trying to make every single bite last. But Barbecue Man didn’t skimp with the meat, and this was one night I wouldn’t go hungry — one of a very few. The sandwich made me sleepy, and I curled into a tight ball and dozed off in my little crack, having survived another day on the streets of Ashland.

Sometime later, the stones woke me, their murmurs rising to a low, steady wail, thanks to the protection curls I’d set into the brick. My own sort of alarm, to keep me safe from the drugged-out bums, vampire prostitutes, and pimps. Something I’d seen one of the street elementals do, although she’d used fireballs to trigger her alarm instead of something else. Fire elementals had it so easy. They could use their magic to keep warm at night, and if somebody messed with them, they would get a face full of flames. Not for the first time, I wished I’d been born a Fire instead of a Stone.

I rubbed my eyes and sat up, clutching the loose brick in my lap. I’d used my magic to pry it out of one of the alley walls a few days ago. A pitiful weapon, but it was better than nothing. It only took me a moment to find the source of the alarm. A man stood in the shadows to my left. I stilled, hoping he wouldn’t see me. I was very good at staying still and quiet. Being invisible was a necessary skill I’d perfected these past few weeks.

The back door of the restaurant opened, and Barbecue Man came out, carrying the last of the day’s garbage. He whistled a cheery tune as he slung the refuse in the Dumpster.

The man stepped out of the shadows. He raised a gun and pointed it at Barbecue Man’s back. And I realized he was going to kill him. He was going to shoot Barbecue Man.

“Watch out!” I screamed.

Barbecue Man turned. He saw the gun and jerked to one side. The shot went wide. Barbecue Man threw himself on top of the other guy, and they fell to the alley floor. Kicking, punching, cursing. The man with the gun crawled on top of Barbecue Man and wrapped his hands around his throat. Strangling him. He was going to kill Barbecue Man.

Unless I did something to stop it.

I’d seen plenty of horrible things on the street. People shot, stabbed, beaten. Bums strung out on drugs and jonesing for more. Elementals driven crazy by their own magic. Vampire hookers sucking the life out of folks who didn’t pay their tab. I’d learned not to get involved in anyone else’s problems. That was a quick way to die. But Barbecue Man had been nice to me when no one else had. He didn’t deserve to get robbed behind his own restaurant. Besides, if he died, I’d have to move on to somewhere else. And I didn’t want to do that.

So I reached for my magic. I let the Stone power fill my veins, and I stared at the back of the Pork Pit, focusing my attention on the rust-colored bricks. One brick that was already loose began to move and vibrate, working itself free of the wall. The men continued to struggle. I sat there, holding my magic, waiting for my chance.

Barbecue Man clawed at the other guy’s eyes, and the stranger pulled back, putting some space between them. All the opportunity I needed. I focused, and the vibrating brick flew out of the wall. The heavy stone struck the man in the temple, and his neck snapped to one side. I heard the crack all the way across the alley. A sound I’d heard before. The one that made me want to throw up. I’d broken his neck. I’d used my magic to kill yet again. What kind of monster was I?

Barbecue Man gasped in a deep breath. Then he shoved the other man off him and stood up. I huddled in my crack, wondering if Barbecue Man would call the cops. If he did, I’d use another brick. But just to stun him. I wasn’t going to kill Barbecue Man. Not him.

Barbecue Man reached down and picked up the loose brick. He stared at me a moment, then turned and knelt beside the other man. Barbecue Man smashed the brick against the stranger’s head three more times. Blood spurted everywhere. I clapped my hands over my mouth to keep from screaming.

“Fucking clients,” Barbecue Man muttered. “Always wanting to double-cross you just so they can save a little money.”

He dropped the brick and wiped his bloody hands on his blue apron, further staining the greasy material. Then he turned and walked over to me. I shrank back into my crack, my hands tightening around the brick in my lap.

Barbecue Man leaned down until his eyes were level with mine. Not for the first time, I noticed how bright and green his gaze was. Like the lights on a Christmas tree. It would be Christmas soon, but I wouldn’t have a tree this year. No presents, no family, nothing. All of it gone, burned to ash by the Fire elemental.

“Thanks, kid,” Barbecue Man said. “You helped me out of a tight spot there. What’s your name?”

Barbecue Man wasn’t doing anything threatening, but I could still sense the strength in his body. He was a dangerous man. I didn’t want to do anything to upset him.

“Gen… Gen…” It was all I could get out. My full name was too much to say right now.

“Gin?” he asked. “Like the liquor?”

I nodded, too afraid to do anything else. Barbecue Man studied me, taking in my ripped jeans and the too-big shoes I’d dug out of the trash.

“Where’s your family?” he asked in a not-unkind voice, considering the blood on his hands and apron.

“Dead,” I whispered. “Everyone’s dead and gone.”

Barbecue Man studied me for a moment longer, then nodded, as if he’d decided something. “You look hungry, Gin. Would you like to come inside and get something else to eat? Maybe clean up a bit? It’s warm inside the restaurant.”

Oh, to be warm, if only for a little while. But I wasn’t stupid. I didn’t trust Barbecue Man. Not after what I’d just seen him do. But I had my magic and my will to survive. If he tried anything, well, I supposed one more death on my conscience didn’t much matter at this point. How much hotter could they make hell?

I nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Barbecue Man straightened and held out his hand. I took it, and he pulled me to my feet, leading me inside …

“Gin?”

A pair of fingers snapped in front of my face, breaking through my memories. I jerked back and looked at Finn.

“Are you still with us?” Finn asked.

I shook away the rest of the old memory. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

He nodded his head at the casket. “I was asking if you wanted to throw your flower in now. Before they start covering up the casket.”

Sometime during my trip down memory lane, the preacher had finished speaking, and the service had ended. A couple of guys in dirt-stained coveralls leaned on shovels in the distance, impatient to get on with their grungy work.

“Of course,” I murmured.

I stepped forward. Finn had already tossed his flower in, and a white rose rested on top of the golden wood. So did two others, a pink rose from Jo-Jo and a black one from Sophia. I clutched my red rose. The thorns dug into the spider rune scar on my right palm, pricking my skin, drawing my blood, but I didn’t care. I let out a deep breath and threw my rose on top of the others.

The petals spread out when they hit the surface of the casket, kissing it like I had the old man’s face just before they’d shut the lid on him.

“Good-bye, Fletcher,” I whispered.