Venom

29

Roslyn just stood there, staring down at what had been Elliot Slater’s melon-size head. I put my hand on the smoking gun and slowly lowered it.

“It’s over, Roslyn,” I said in a soft voice. “He’s dead now. You killed the bastard. You did it. You took care of him — forever. He’s never going to bother you again. Never. Do you understand me?”

After a moment, Roslyn pulled her gaze away from the dead giant and looked up at me. Tears filled her eyes, and her hands started shaking once more. I pulled the gun out of her hands, let it fall to the floor, and gingerly, slowly, carefully, put my arms around her, not sure if I should hold her, touch her. Not sure how I could help her through this, but determined to try nonetheless. The vamp sobbed and screamed and pounded her fists against my back. I let her, just let her get it all out. All the pain and fear and misery. All the rage and helplessness and terror. All the relief and horror and sorrow.

I don’t know how long we stood there, Roslyn screaming and crying, me just holding her. But eventually, her sobs quieted, and the vamp drew away from me.

“He might be dead, but he’s right,” she whispered. “I’ll never get away with this. Mab Monroe will come after me, after my family, after Xavier.”

“You’re right,” I replied. “You won’t get away with it.”

Roslyn gave me a look of pure horror.

“But then, you’re not going to be the one who’s done anything here tonight.”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“This is what we’re going to do,” I said.

The torture was over — at least for now. I sat slumped in the chair, only the heavy ropes holding me upright. Sweat and tears dripped from my body like rain, and my hands felt like all the skin had been burned off them. Now I was glad that I was blindfolded so I couldn’t see my hands. Couldn’t see what a bloody, blistered mess had been made of them.

But the Fire elemental had gone, taking her cruel, pricking magic with her, vanished into some other part of the smoking house, leaving me tied where I was. Still, I knew that it wouldn’t be long before she came back and finally killed me—

A scream echoed through the house. Faint and small and weak, but I still recognized the high pitch in her voice, still recognized the person that it belonged to.

“Bria,” I whispered through my cracked lips.

Another scream sounded, and my breath caught in my throat. I strained my ears as hard as I could, listening, trying to determine where the sound was coming from. Then the cold realization hit me. The Fire elemental and her men. They must have found Bria where I’d hidden her. That was the only reason I could think of why my sister would be screaming.

At that horrible thought, new energy flooded my body. I struggled against the heavy ropes once more, even though I knew that it was no use, knew that I couldn’t get free of them. I ignored the searing pain in my hands and brought my stiff, blistered fingers up to my face, managing to slip the blindfold off my head. Smoke filled the room I was in like a dark, somber fog.

A third and final scream erupted from somewhere, before being abruptly cut off. I listened closely, but no more sounds came. No more sounds. I knew what that meant. That the Fire elemental had Bria — that my baby sister was being tortured even now.

At that awful thought, something deep inside me twisted and snapped, like a taut bowstring finally being loosened. This cold, great, terrible power filled me. More power, more magic than I had ever felt before. And then I started to scream.

I screamed for everything that had happened tonight. Everything that I had lost. Everything that had been done to me and my family. The power poured out of me the way my tears and sweat had a moment ago.

And it felt good … right somehow.

I kept screaming, pushing everything that I had left into that one echoing sound. All my pain. All my hurt and fear and rage and desperation and helplessness.

I felt the stones respond to me. Felt my magic rip through them like lightning, shocking them awake from their long, sonorous slumber, shattering them like they were made of the most fragile crystal. A deep rumble began in the earth below my feet, pushing upward, pushing outward. I couldn’t control the power, the raw magic flowing out of me, and I didn’t really want to. I just wanted to hurt someone, wanted to lash out at anyone who was left, hurt them like the Fire elemental had me and my family.

One by one, the stones above my head began to crumble and fall. My Stone magic spread outward, until the rest of the house’s stones were just as unstable. I felt the stones in the other rooms begin to crack, fall, and slip from the ceilings and walls. Once it started, I couldn’t stop it, couldn’t stop them. I knew the stones would bring the rest of the smoking house down with them, down on top of the Fire elemental and all her men.

I screamed again, this time in cruel, dark pleasure at the cold, awesome power that I was wielding—

“Are you ready?” Finn asked, cutting into one of my darkest memories.

“Yeah,” I replied, staring up at the rune before me on the stone wall. “I’m ready.”

An hour later, Detective Bria Coolidge was the first one to arrive on the scene. Her city-issued gray sedan skidded to a stop in front of Elliot Slater’s mountain mansion. Bria jumped out of the driver’s seat. Xavier got out on the other side. Guns drawn, the two cops rushed to the front door, which I’d conveniently left open in anticipation of their arrival.

Five minutes later, Xavier came outside, cradling Roslyn in his massive arms. The giant had wrapped a blanket over her, and he gently placed her inside the back of the sedan. Xavier started to pull away, but Roslyn grabbed his hand. After a moment, Xavier knelt beside her. He didn’t leave her side after that, and I knew that he wouldn’t for the rest of the night. Maybe for the rest of their lives.

Bria also came back outside, her cell phone clamped to her ear. I couldn’t hear her exact words, but the urgency of her tone drifted up to my hiding spot on top of the ridge overlooking the mansion, just inside the tree line. The same spot that I’d been in when Finn and I had first hiked up the mountain.

And that’s when the show really started.

More cars carrying more cops arrived on the scene, swarming over the mansion like ants on a crust of honey-covered bread. Spotlights were erected, along with yards of yellow crime scene tape. It wasn’t long before a news van pulled up and parked in the driveway. Then another, then another. I smiled. So far, everything was going according to plan.

Standing in the bloody wreckage of Elliot Slater’s living room, I’d told Roslyn everything — about my murdered family, about Bria, but most especially about my plan to take down Mab Monroe — or die trying.

The vamp had studied me for several seconds before shaking her head. “You’re one crazy bitch, you know that.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m suicidal,” I’d replied. “So are you in or out?”

“In.” Roslyn gave me a small smile.

And just like that, we were partners. Hell, maybe even friends too.

As I watched the scene before me, I crunched a couple of aspirin between my teeth and shifted the ice pack that I’d strapped onto my broken wrist before leaving the mansion. I had one more thing to do before I could slip away and go have Jo-Jo Deveraux heal me. Finn was already in the dwarf’s capable hands, getting his many injuries taken care of.

Forty-five minutes after Bria and Xavier first arrived, a long, black limo pulled up to the very top of the driveway. Finally she was here. The limo driver got out and rushed to open the back door. A moment later, Mab Monroe stepped into view. The Fire elemental looked like she’d been out on the town. I could see the gleam of sequins on her forest green dress even from this distance. Her red hair looked like dull copper underneath the whirling, red and blue police lights, and her sunburst rune necklace flashed like a ring of golden fire around her neck, surrounding the bloody ruby in the center of the design.

At the sight of Mab, one of the cops, a senior captain whose name escaped me, walked over to her, bent down, and began speaking into the Fire elemental’s ear. I made a mental note to tell Finn to get me the guy’s name, since he was so obviously in Mab’s pocket. He might be worth paying a visit to sometime in the near future.

Mab’s face remained as smooth and expressionless as ever, but her eyes blackened, sucking in all the available light, instead of reflecting it back. The Fire elemental was pissed. The captain finished briefing Mab and stepped back, dry-washing his hands in nervousness. But instead of frying him on the spot, Mab looked across the driveway, where Roslyn sat, still wrapped in a blanket in the back of the police car. Then the Fire elemental stared at the cluster of media folks gathered behind the yellow crime scene tape. They were already screaming at the cops to tell them what was going on.

Which meant that it was time for me to make my presence known.

With my good hand, I pulled a small detonator out of my pocket and pressed the blue button on top. A second later, a silvery light flashed, bright enough to fill the whole mountaintop. Everyone screamed and shouted, except for Mab Monroe. She just shielded her eyes against the light and looked for the source of it. After a few seconds, the initial burst of light flared down into a shape burning with silver fire in the stone of Elliot Slater’s mansion.

A circle surrounded by eight thin rays. A spider rune. The symbol for patience.

I’d never left my rune, my symbol, at the scene of the crime before. Assassins who did that were stupid and bound to be caught, sooner rather than later. But this was my plan, the crazy one that I’d told Finn, Sophia, and Jo-Jo about. My way to take the heat off Roslyn Phillips for Elliot Slater’s messy demise. My way to protect Bria from being killed by one of Mab Monroe’s henchmen. My way to get the Fire elemental to focus all her attention on me.

My way to finally declare war on Mab Monroe.

The spider rune continued to burn. I’d poured every last bit of magic that I’d had left into making the rune. Some small explosives from my duffel bag of supplies had helped me put enough juice in it to really make a statement. It looked just as large and ominous as I’d hoped.

My eyes sought out Bria in the crowd. My sister stood a little apart from the other cops, just staring up at the rune on the wall of the house, her mouth open in a combination of surprise and something else that I couldn’t quite define or explain. Her eyes dropped to the rune-stamped rings on her finger, and she started twisting one of them around and around. I didn’t have to guess which one.

After a few seconds, I pulled my gaze away from Bria. Right now, I needed to make sure that my message had been delivered.

So I reached into my pocket, pulled out my cell phone, and punched in the number that Finn had been gracious enough to provide for me. It rang twice before she picked it up.

“What?” Mab Monroe’s silky voice barked in my ear.

“Enjoying the show?” I asked, using a bright, cheery tone to help disguise my voice. “I think it’s quite something myself. But then again, I might be a little biased, since I’m the one who orchestrated the whole thing.”

“Who the fuck is this? What the hell are you talking about?” Mab snarled.

“I’m talking about that very large rune you’re looking at right now. I’m talking about me waltzing into Elliot Slater’s little vista up here, putting a shotgun to his head, and pulling the trigger enough times so that his own mother wouldn’t recognize the pulpy remains.”

As I talked, I watched Mab. The Fire elemental’s face didn’t change, but her hand tightened around the phone. I hoped she didn’t make it spontaneously combust before I was through talking with her. That would rather defeat the point of my little display here tonight.

“Who are you?” Mab asked, her voice dropping to a low, dangerous rasp in my ear. “You might as well tell me now, because I’m going to find you, bitch. And when I do, you’re going to pay dearly for this stunt you’ve pulled.”

“We’ve actually met before,” I replied. “I have to say I’m rather crushed that you don’t remember me. After all, I did proposition you in your own bathroom.”

“Candy, the hooker,” Mab said, referring to the trashy name that I’d used that night. “You’re that blond hooker from my party. The one who killed Jake McAllister and buried Tobias Dawson in his own coal mine.”

“Guilty as charged.”

Silence. Below me, Mab paced back and forth in the driveway, thinking hard.

“What do you want?” she finally asked. “What’s the point of this — this display? Why kill Elliot?”

“Because he was a rapist and a serial killer and deserved to be put down,” I replied. “Because he got in my way. Because I was bored. Because I wanted to hurt you. Does it really matter? He’s dead. He’s not coming back. I made sure of that.”

“And the others?” Mab asked. “Jake McAllister, Tobias Dawson. Did they get in your way too?”

“Something like that,” I replied. “You can interpret my actions any way you like. I don’t fucking care what conclusions you draw.”

“Who’s paying you to do this?” Mab’s voice seethed with rage. “Is it Benson? Weston? Phillip Kincaid?”

I recognized the names that she spat out. More of Ashland’s underworld power players, each of whom had his own problems with Mab Monroe. Each of whom would be delighted to see her dead so he could take over her piece of the Ashland pie.

“That’s the beauty of this whole thing,” I replied. “Most assassins are subcontractors, but me? I’m completely self-employed.”

“So you have some grudge against me then, some vendetta, some score you want to settle. How tiresome. Why don’t you just show yourself, and we can get on with things? There’s no need to involve others in your drama.”

I laughed. “Funny. And let your police buddies shoot me down? I don’t think so. Now listen up, because I’m only going to say this once. This call is the only warning that you’re going to get. You’re finished in this town, Mab. You and all your cronies and minions. I’m putting you on notice. I’m going to take down your organization one piece, one player at a time, until you’re the only one left. And then I’m coming for you.”

Mab laughed. Even up here on the ridge, I could hear the deadly mirth in her voice. “I’m so going to enjoy hunting you down and killing you.”

I rolled my eyes. That’s what they all said.

“At least do me the courtesy of telling me what I did to you,” Mab replied. “Because once I get my hands on you, Candy, you’re not going to be in any position to speak, much less answer questions.”

I smiled into the darkness. “Promises, promises, sugar. As for what you did to me, well, you helped make me what I am. So really, you’ve got no one but yourself to blame for the cold, cold wrath that I am about to rain down on you and yours.”

“I’ll find you, and when I do, you’re going to die,” Mab snarled. “Slowly. Painfully.”

“That’s another bit of beauty about being self-employed,” I replied. “It’s only me on my crusade. There’s no one else to talk to. No one else to squeal, to bribe, to threaten. And I’m very, very good at being invisible. You won’t find me until I want you to. But I did do you the courtesy of leaving my calling card, so to speak.”

“That fucking spider rune?” Mab asked. “Why a spider rune? It’s so simple, so weak.”

I hesitated. Didn’t she remember my spider rune medallion? How she’d tortured me with it all those years ago? Didn’t she realize that I was Genevieve Snow, back from the dead?

Maybe not, I thought. After all, it had been seventeen years ago, and Mab had killed scores of people in the meantime. Hard to keep track of everyone, especially since I’d just been a weak, helpless kid back then. Besides, Mab had been concerned with Bria and my mother that night — not me. Hell, I probably wasn’t the only person the Fire elemental had tortured who’d used a spider rune. It wasn’t the most common symbol out there, but it wasn’t unheard of either.

Maybe Mab had forgotten me. Maybe she just couldn’t be bothered to remember right now, given the ugly surprise of Elliot Slater’s death. Maybe she’d put it together later. Maybe she did remember and was just screwing with me. Didn’t much matter at the moment. All that did matter was making sure my message was delivered loud and clear.

“Why a spider rune? Because it’s the symbol for patience,” I replied. “And I can wait however long I have to until I get you. So look at the rune, Mab, memorize it and remember it well. Because you’ll be seeing it again real soon, sugar. Including the second before you die.”

“You stupid, arrogant bitch—” she started.

I shut my phone. I’d said everything that I needed to. But evidently, Mab didn’t like the way the conversation ended. Down in the driveway, the Fire elemental stared at her cell phone, a look of disbelief on her face. A second later, a ball of fire erupted in her hand, toasting the phone and flashing up into the night sky. The cops in front of the mansion immediately turned, hands going to their guns, wondering if this was some new threat. A few of the reporters screamed at the unexpected blast, and everyone took a few steps back.

I counted off the seconds in my head. Ten. Twenty. Thirty. Forty-five… The fire snuffed out of Mab’s hand, and her fingers curled into a tight fist. After a moment, she took a breath, opened her fist, and clapped a bit of ash off her hands. Then the Fire elemental turned on her heel and got back into her waiting limo. Message received.

A cold smile curved my lips before I turned and slipped off into the dark woods.

And now, promises to keep. Promises to keep.