Tangled Threads

23

I spent the night with Owen. But this time, I didn’t get up and sneak out of bed early the next morning. Instead, I woke him up for round three before I had to leave to go to the Pork Pit. After that, it was business as usual at the restaurant.

At least, as much as it could be when I was expecting an assassin to drop by sometime during the day and try to kill me.

Given the fact that Elektra LaFleur had almost succeeded in doing that very thing two nights ago, I took a few extra precautions. More than the ones that were part of my daily routine, anyway. I might long to kill the other assassin, but I wasn’t going to be stupid about things either. Fletcher had taught me better than that.

For starters, I had on one of my many silverstone vests, hidden underneath my blue work apron and a bulky black sweater that obscured the lean shape of my body. And I had Owen’s oh-so-thoughtful Christmas presents secreted on me as well. A knife tucked up either sleeve, one in the small of my back, and two more stuffed inside my boots.

Early that morning, before the Pork Pit had opened, I’d walked around the interior of the restaurant twice, slowly, looking at it from every angle, thinking what I would do if I wanted to kill the owner of such an establishment. The best way to get in, the easiest way to get close, the weapons I might use. All the things that assassins had to think about if they wanted to get away after the fact. All the things I’d thought about as the Spider for so many years that were just second nature to me now.

Despite Mab’s edict to make it look somewhat like an accident, given what I knew of LaFleur, I doubted the other assassin would care exactly how she killed me, as long as she got to use her electrical magic. Hell, I doubted she’d even be that quiet about things. I imagined LaFleur would be perfectly happy to barge in through the front door of the Pork Pit, fry me with her green lightning, and stroll right back out when I was dead and charred. I couldn’t fault her for that. Sometimes the direct approach was the best.

I only hoped she’d wait until the restaurant was deserted before she made her move. Collateral damage was one thing I’d always avoided as an assassin. Call me a sentimental fool, but I didn’t want some innocent family’s Christmas to be ruined because Mommy happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

When I’d thought about things and how they might play out, I flipped the sign on the front door of the Pit over to Open.

Now all that was left to do was wait for LaFleur to show.

And then we’d dance.

The day passed quietly. Well, as quietly as usual, considering the fact that Sophia Deveraux and I were still busy cooking all day long, trying to keep up with all the take-out and holiday party orders that just kept pouring in, despite the fact that tomorrow was Christmas Eve. Normally, I helped wait tables as well as dished up food, but today all I did was cook. Catalina Vasquez and the rest of the waitstaff took over the slack.

Finn dropped by about five that afternoon. As always, he wore one of his designer suits. A Christmas green one with a red candy cane — striped tie that would have looked ridiculous on anyone else. As soon as he sat down at his regular seat at the counter, Sophia poured him a cup of chicory coffee. The Goth dwarf gave Finn a fond smile and patted his hand. Finn grinned and winked back at her. Even gruff, tough Sophia wasn’t immune to the legendary charms of Finnegan Lane.

By that time, the take-out orders had started to slow down, and Sophia and I had put together all the party trays for the day. The various members of the waitstaff who’d come into work today were all in the back of the restaurant taking their break, so I decided to take one too and talk to Finn about the latest goings-on in Ashland.

“Anything new?” I asked, putting a few of the pumpkin-raisin cookies I’d baked fresh this morning on a plate and sliding them over to him.

Finn, of course, had two cookies before he bothered to answer me. “Not much, according to my sources. Mab’s still holed up on her estate, and LaFleur’s still supposed to find the Spider and kill her as soon as possible.”

“Same old, same old.”

“Same old, same old,” Finn agreed.

“What about the others?” I could take care of myself, but everyone else was vulnerable, especially where LaFleur was concerned.

“Everybody’s okay. Vinnie and Natasha are still tucked away at Jo-Jo’s house, and Roslyn and Xavier are watching their backs. Xavier is also keeping an eye on Bria during their shift together like you wanted him to,” Finn said. “There’s been no sign of any of Mab’s men or LaFleur hanging around the salon, Roslyn’s house, the police station, or even Northern Aggression. Everything’s quiet so far.”

I nodded. “So far.”

I doubted it would stay that way through the rest of the night. But when Elektra LaFleur came calling, I would be ready.

And then the assassin would finally die.

But nothing happened the rest of the afternoon and on into the evening. Not a damn thing. Nobody came into the restaurant who looked like she didn’t belong. No strange phone calls, no weird take-out orders, nothing.

Finn left to go see what else his snitches had to tell him, and we made a plan to meet at Jo-Jo’s later on to try to figure out what to do about Vinnie and Natasha, since the two of them couldn’t stay hidden at the dwarf’s house forever.

“LaFleur?” Sophia asked, wiping down the back counter.

The waitstaff had left for the evening, and the two of us were alone in the restaurant. I stared out the storefront windows, but the scene hadn’t changed since the last time that I’d looked two minutes ago. People still moved back and forth outside on the sidewalk, although the crowd had thinned out after rush hour. Now folks tucked their chins down into their coats and hurried on to their destinations as fast as they could, desperate to get out of the December cold.

I turned to Sophia and shrugged. “Looks like she’s not going to show. She must be busy chasing the Spider’s ghost tonight, instead of plotting to kill Gin Blanco.”

The Goth dwarf grunted and went back to her wiping. It didn’t look like anyone else was going to drop by, so we started closing down the restaurant for the night. Turning off the French fryer, doing the same to the griddle and the ovens, putting the leftover food into the refrigerators — all our usual routines.

When all that was done, I grabbed the day’s trash, opened the back door of the restaurant, and stepped outside into the alley behind the Pork Pit.

The crackle of electricity in the air immediately told me she was here.

I could feel Elektra LaFleur’s elemental magic leaking off her like water dripping from a faucet. Some elementals were like that — they constantly gave off magic, even when they weren’t consciously using their power. They just oozed magic at all times. That’s why I always felt red-hot needles pricking my skin whenever I was in Mab’s proximity. The Fire elemental radiated power just like LaFleur was doing right now.

Even if LaFleur hadn’t been dripping with elemental power, my own Stone magic would have clued me in to the fact that something was wrong in the alley. Instead of their usual slow, clogged murmurs, the bricks of the restaurant had taken on sharp, muttered notes of worry. Something had disturbed the stone, and I knew exactly what it was — the twisted, shocking intentions of the assassin lying in wait for me. The new, harsh vibration overpowered the bricks’ usual sighs of contentment.

My eyes scanned over what I could see of the alley. Dumpsters, the backs of other buildings, and a small crack barely big enough for a child to squeeze into, an old hiding place of mine back when I’d been living on the streets. Slushy puddles of oil and other stains coated the alley floor like glossy black varnish. But I’d give LaFleur credit. She was just as good at hiding as I was, because I didn’t immediately spot her lurking in the shadows. Still, I knew she was there — and I was more than ready for the assassin.

I put the trash bags in the Dumpster, banging open the metal hatch like I didn’t have a bloody care in the world, but when I closed it and turned around, ready to go back inside the warmth of the restaurant, there she was, standing in the alley behind me.

Elektra LaFleur.

She wore the same dark green peacoat that she’d had on the last time she’d come to the Pork Pit, along with a pair of black pants and stiletto boots. That seemed to be her outfit du jour. LaFleur could afford to be a little more colorful with her wardrobe than I could, since she just fried people with her electrical magic and didn’t get up close, bloody, and personal as I did with my knives. As always, her emerald headband held back her black hair, and the white orchid tattooed on her neck gleamed like a ghost in the semidarkness.

She gave me a wide, toothy smile, as though us two gals had just run into each other shopping at the mall. “Remember me, Gin?”

“How could I forget?” I murmured, staying where I was, my arms loose by my sides, knees slightly bent, my weight on the balls of my feet, gathering my strength for what was to come.

Evidently LaFleur thought that I would be surprised, at the very least, at her just popping up out of seemingly nowhere. Maybe she was hoping I’d immediately scream, run, or do something else stupid like that, because her crimson lips turned down into a pout, as though I was ruining all her fun. Too damn bad.

“You don’t seem surprised to see me,” she finally said.

I shrugged. “Jonah McAllister hates me. I figured he would send someone like you after me sooner or later. I see he decided on sooner.”

I suppose that I could have strung her along, played the little game, and danced to the same old boring tune. I could easily have pretended to be nothing but a restaurant owner, an innocent, helpless woman with a smart mouth that had gotten her into trouble with the wrong people. But I was tired of running and hiding. From Elektra LaFleur, from Jonah McAllister, and most especially from Mab Monroe.

Elektra raised an eyebrow. “Someone like me?”

“An assassin,” I clarified. “That is what you do, isn’t it? Kill people?”

Her eyes narrowed in thought, and she tilted her head to one side, studying me. “It is. But what I’m wondering now is how someone like you could possibly know something like that.”

She wasn’t the first person to ask me that. Nobody ever thought someone like me, Gin Blanco, could be someone like the Spider. I looked like such a nice, simple, sweet gal — from a distance anyway. Up close, the perpetual winter in my cold gray eyes tended to shatter that particular illusion, along with many others.

I shrugged again. “I run a restaurant. I hear things. Word on the street is that you’re Mab Monroe’s newest little minion.”

Anger flashed in her gaze at my mocking tone. “I’m nobody’s fucking minion.”

I cocked an eyebrow, surprised by the sudden unexpected show of emotion, especially since I’d never seen her be anything but smug before now. “Really? Because it looks to me like you’re standing here in the middle of this dirty, dingy alley ready to kill me on someone else’s order and dime. Isn’t that the very definition of the word minion?”

She stood there, considering my words. “You know, I suppose it is. But my pay is much, much better than that of any mere minion.”

Elektra let out a low chuckle. Elemental power crackled in her pealing dulcet tone, like an electrified church bell. It made me grind my teeth together, even as that primal little voice in the back of my head started up its chorus once again. Enemy, enemy, enemy. Or maybe it was just the constant, static feel of her magic snapping up against my skin that put me on edge — and the very real possibility that I wouldn’t be able to overcome a frontal assault by her, no matter what Jo-Jo Deveraux said. No matter how much Ice and Stone magic the dwarf claimed I had.

“You know, you’re far more interesting than you appear, Gin. Or is it Jen? I wasn’t quite clear on that. Call it a quirk, but I always like to know exactly who I’m killing.”

“It’s Gin. Like the liquor.” I quipped my usual line.

“Ah. Thanks for clearing that up.”

We stood there in the alley staring at each other. Elektra brought her finger up and tapped out a pattern on her crimson lips, as though she was considering something important. Green sparks of lightning flickered like fireflies in the air around her. She wasn’t even trying to hide her power now. Arrogant bitch. She never even considered the possibility that I might have magic of my own. Sloppy, sloppy, sloppy of her.

“I am rather surprised that you haven’t started screaming for help yet, Gin. Or tried to run away, at the very least. Not that it would do you any good.” She nodded at something over my shoulder. “I brought along a few friends just in case you were quicker than you looked.”

I glanced behind me. Sure enough, three giants stood at the far end of the alley, blocking the exit. They stood like I did, hands loose and ready by their sides. So even if LaFleur had missed me with her lightning, the rest of Mab’s men would have stepped up to finish the job. I had to admire the assassin’s thoroughness. She’d thought of almost everything — except the fact that I was the Spider and just as deadly as she was.

“It is good to be prepared,” I quipped and turned back to face the other assassin. “You just never know what kinds of difficulties you might run into in your line of work.”

A thoughtful light flared in Elektra’s eyes. “You sound like you have some experience in these sorts of things.”

“I wouldn’t exactly say experience,” I said. “Although I do seem to be getting the stuffing beat out of me on a regular basis.”

Elektra smiled. “Oh, yes. Jonah told me all about that beating he had Elliot Slater give you a few weeks back. I would have loved to be there for that. Although, if I’d been Slater, you wouldn’t have walked away after the fact. How did it feel, though? To be Jonah’s little bitch? To know he’s the reason you’re going to die in this filthy alley tonight?”

I rocked back on my heels and clasped my hands behind me, as though I was considering something. I used the opportunity to palm one of my silverstone knives — one of the five that Owen had made for me. My thumb traced over the hilt, right over the spot where Owen had stamped my spider rune into the metal. The weapon felt cold, hard, and comforting in my hand, the way it always did. Maybe even more so tonight, because it had been a gift from Owen, his way of helping me take down LaFleur.

“Actually, I think you know all about being Jonah’s little bitch,” I said. “After all, you’re the one fucking him, not me. Tell me, do you just bend over and take it? Or do you have to do all the work? Because McAllister strikes me as being a lazy bastard in bed.”

Green rage sparked in LaFleur’s eyes, along with her magic. “I don’t take anything from anyone, bitch. I do who and what I want, when I want.”

I shrugged again. “Could have fooled me. I can’t imagine another reason why you’d let McAllister fuck you. Oh, wait. I forgot. That’s what minions do. Do whatever and whomever they’re told. Personally, I would have asked for more money at the very least. But then again, I suppose I just have higher standards than you do.”

Elektra’s face showed no more emotion at my taunts, but green lightning flickered to life in her curled hand. The color of it matched the cruel glow in her eyes. Temper, temper, temper. I’d gotten to the other assassin and made her angry. I only hoped it was enough to make her reckless, to give me a sliver of an advantage.

“You know, Gin, I was going to make your death relatively quick, if not entirely painless,” she said in a pleasant, benign tone, as though she were talking about the weather or some other banality. “Now, I think that I’ll just make it hurt.”

“Bring it on, bitch,” I said and palmed another one of my knives.

Surprise flashed in the other assassin’s eyes at the cold venom in my tone, but it wasn’t enough to make her think twice about what she was here to do. She held out her hand, and the lightning intensified, growing from a few small, flickering sparks into a solid ball of power. Even across the alley, I could feel the raw elemental power that she controlled.

I only hoped my own would be enough to overcome it.

I reached for my Stone magic, ready to use it to harden my skin, to make my body as tough as the brick of the buildings around us. But before LaFleur could throw her ball of lightning at me, before we could start our deadly, final dance, the strangest thing happened. The back door of the Pork Pit swung open.

And Detective Bria Coolidge stepped out into the dark alley.