《Thread of Death (Elemental Assassin #5.5)》


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    Chapter One


    Gin Blanco


    I couldn''t believe the bitch was dead.


    Mab Monroe, the Fire elemental who''d been head of the Ashland underworld for years, the woman who''d murdered my mother and older sister, was finally, finally dead.


    And I was the one who''d made her that way.


    Me. Gin Blanco. The assassin known as the Spider.


    Now, my killing people as the Spider was nothing new. I''d helped more than a few folks quit breathing over the years, whether for money or to help out my friends or for my continued survival. But Mab had been different - and killing her had been very, very personal.


    The Fire elemental hadn''t gone down without a fight - the toughest fucking fight of both our lives. Not that I''d expected anything less from Mab. Not only had she been rumored to be the strongest elemental born in the last five hundred years, but she had also been as smart, cunning, and as vicious as they come. You didn''t get to be the head of the Ashland underworld and stay there as long as she had without being absolutely ruthless. Oh, no. Taking down Mab had been anything but simple. I still couldn''t quite believe she was dead - and I wasn''t.


    But killing Mab hadn''t been without a price. We''d fought each other in an elemental duel, my Ice and Stone magic against her Fire power. According to some folks who''d been there, you could see the flames of our respective magics from a half mile away. I didn''t know whether I believed that or not, but Mab was seconds from incinerating me before I finally managed to stab the bitch in her black heart with one of my silverstone knives. Even then, Mab''s Fire washed over me, engulfing most of my body and burning me down to the bone, and I was about a breath away from dying right along with her. Now, after weeks of healing Air magic and intensive physical therapy, I was finally back to my old self - more or less.


    I peered into the mirror in my bedroom, critically eyeing my reflection. This would be one of the first times I''d been out in public since killing Mab, and I wanted to be sure I looked one hundred percent, like the Gin of old, even if I knew I wasn''t quite there yet.


    My dark chocolate brown hair was pulled back into a sleek pony-tail, while black shadow, mascara, and liner rimmed my eyes, bringing out their cold gray color. A shiny strawberry-pink gloss covered my lips, softening the heavy eye makeup, while a bronzing powder added some much-needed color to my cheeks. Despite the coppery sheen, a hint of death white still tinged my skin, reminding me how I''d come close to dying right alongside Mab.


    I smoothed down a stray hair and plucked a piece of lint off my right sleeve. I''d traded in my usual jeans and long-sleeved T-shirt for a pantsuit. Stark, black, and simple, given where I was going today. Sturdy black low-heeled boots encased my feet, while my usual five knives were hidden on my body. One up either sleeve, one in the small of my back, and two tucked into the sides of my boots.


    Just because Mab was dead didn''t mean that I could lower my guard and leave my weapons at home. Quite the contrary. There were still lots of other dangerous folks in Ashland, people who would just as soon shoot you as look at you - and those were some of the nicer folks in town. That was one of the reasons I was going out today and had taken such care with my appearance. I wanted to see for myself just how much the underworld landscape had shifted with the Fire elemental''s death and more important what it might mean for me as the Spider and Gin Blanco too.


    Footsteps sounded outside in the hallway, a steady, familiar tread that I knew and welcomed. A moment later, a soft knock sounded on the door.


    "Come on in," I called out. "I''m ready."


    The door opened, and my lover, Owen Grayson, stepped into the bedroom.


    Owen wore a black suit similar to mine over a smoke gray shirt and matching tie. The fitted fabric outlined his body, stretching over the hard, sculpted muscles of his chest and arms, while the dark colors only made him seem more ruggedly handsome, especially when paired with his blue-black hair and the slightly crooked tilt of his nose.


    Owen looked at me, a troubled light flaring in his violet eyes. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked. "You don''t have to, you know. You don''t have anything to prove to anyone. Not to me, not to the others, and especially not to yourself."


    That''s where he was wrong. I had a lot of things to prove to myself - namely, that I could be the same Gin, the same Spider, as before. Physically, I was still weak from my fight with Mab. Still stiff and creaky, still saddled with arms and legs that gave out too soon, still without the quickness, stamina, and strength I''d had before. I knew those things would return eventually, but I was pushing myself hard to get back to where I''d been as soon as possible. I couldn''t afford not to.


    But today wasn''t about my physical limitations. No, today - today was about my state of mind. Today was one of the necessary steps to recapturing that mental toughness that had served me so well over the years. Once I got that back, everything else would follow. That''s why I was so determined to go through with this particular outing. I wanted to be the old me - starting right now.


    I didn''t tell Owen any of my thoughts, though. He''d already spent far too long worrying far too much about me. So had the others. They''d all spent the last few weeks taking care of me, healing me, helping me with my rehab - even cooking for me. I appreciated their care and concern, but it had been hard for me to take it slow, to let myself rest, relax, and heal. Now, after all these weeks of recuperating, I figured it was time for me to look after myself again.


    I walked over to Owen and wrapped my arms around his neck. He put his hands on my waist and drew me closer, the warmth of his fingers and the heat of his body driving away the faint, nagging chill I''d felt ever since I''d killed Mab.


    "I''m sure," I said in a firm voice. "We both know I need to do this. I need to go there and see her - for all sorts of reasons."


    "I know," Owen murmured, concern and worry deepening his voice. "But I don''t like it. You''re still not fully recovered. What if someone notices that? What if something happens?"


    I grinned at him. "Then it''s a good thing you, Finn, and everyone else will be there watching out for me. Don''t worry. Nothing''s going to happen."


    Not today.


    I didn''t say the words, but I could tell Owen was thinking them just like I was. This was new territory we were entering, and neither one of us knew quite what to make of it. I didn''t think anyone in the entire city knew exactly how things were going to play out, and I imagined that all the other folks in attendance today would be waiting to see what happened and which way the wind was blowing, just like Owen and I would be.


    I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him, flicking my tongue against his lips. Owen opened his mouth, his tongue stroking against my own. More warmth pooled in my stomach, driving away the last of the chill. As we kissed, I ran my hands through his hair, then down over the chiseled planes of his face, enjoying the heat of his skin, his mouth, on mine. No matter how much I touched him, I always marveled at the strength of his body and the desire he was able to ignite in me. It thrummed through my veins like a siren''s seductive song, whispering of all the pleasures that could be had between us.


    "You know, we could just forget about going out and spend the rest of the day in bed," he murmured, and kissed the side of my neck, even as his hands slid down to the buttons on my suit jacket.


    "As tempting as that is, you know we have someplace to be," I replied, running my hands across his broad shoulders. "Unfortunately, this is an appointment that I just can''t miss, no matter how tempting your proposition may be."


    Owen drew back, his eyes shimmering with heat. "Rain check, then? Tonight at my place? If you feel up to it, of course."


    I arched an eyebrow. "Is that a challenge, Grayson? Because you know how much I love those - and showing you just how up to it I am."


    He grinned and lowered his mouth to mine. We kissed again, long, soft, and slow, teasing each other with promises of tonight, before finally breaking apart. Owen held me tight for a moment before finally dropping his hands from my waist.


    "Come on," he said. "If you''re still determined to do this, then we need to go. We wouldn''t want to be late."


    I snorted. "Oh, no. We definitely wouldn''t want to be late for this."


    We walked downstairs, where the others were waiting in the den of Fletcher Lane''s house - my house now. Finnegan Lane, my foster brother, had his arm slung around the shoulders of Detective Bria Coolidge, my baby sister, no doubt murmuring sweet nothings into her ear, since Roslyn Phillips was looking at them both with an amused grin. Jolene "Jo-Jo" Deveraux was sitting on the plaid sofa, flipping through a beauty magazine, while her sister, Sophia, was looking at the rune drawings that were propped up on the mantel: a snowflake, an ivy vine, a primrose, and the neon pig sign outside the Pork Pit. All symbols of people I''d loved and lost over the years.


    My friends and family were all dressed in somber, serious black, just like Owen and I were. Finn wore one of his many Fiona Fine designer suits, while Bria sported a jacket and white silk blouse over a skirt. Roslyn also wore a black jacket and skirt, both of which highlighted her gorgeous curves. Jo-Jo had on a dress topped by her usual strand of pearls. A small black hat sporting a white lily perched on the side of the dwarf''s head, pinned to her white-blond curls.


    For once, we all matched Sophia''s usual dark clothes. The Goth dwarf wore a pantsuit similar to mine, although she''d accessorized hers with heavy boots and a black leather collar around her neck. Black lipstick covered her lips, and pale gray glitter glistened in her hair.


    I cleared my throat, and everyone turned to look at me. "Well," I said. "I guess this is it."


    "It''s about time," Finn groused. "We''ve been waiting down here forever."


    Bria glanced at the clock on the wall. "Yes, if by ''forever'' you mean five minutes."


    Finn smiled at her, a sly look in his green eyes. "Time is money, cupcake, especially when it comes to my time, what I do with it, and particularly who I do it with."


    He leaned over and whispered something in her ear, which made Bria stiffen and caused her cheeks to explode in a fiery blush. They were a new couple, having hooked up shortly before Mab''s death, and Finn still had the ability to shock my sister. Still, despite her blush, her features softened into a smile as she looked at him. Finn gave her a slow, shameless, saucy wink. He liked teasing her.


    It was nice to see my sister smile, something she hadn''t done much of lately. I wasn''t the only one who''d suffered at Mab''s hands. Despite my efforts to keep her safe, a bounty hunter had kidnapped Bria and delivered her to Mab''s mansion, where the Fire elemental had spent a long, long night using her magic to torture my sister. Burning Bria with her cruel, cruel Fire.


    Finn and the others had rescued Bria while I battled Mab, and Jo-Jo had used her Air magic to heal all of Bria''s wounds, but the damage had still been done. My sister had been quiet and withdrawn these past few weeks. I knew she was still trying to come to terms with that horrible night and all the fresh, painful scars it had left on the inside, just like I was - scars that no amount of magic could ever heal. My guilt over Bria''s capture and torture was like a knife in my stomach, one that twisted in a little deeper every time I saw the dark memories in her eyes. I wanted to make it up to my sister, wanted to ease her pain, but I just didn''t know how.


    "It''s time to go," Owen said again.


    Sophia turned and left the room. Finn and Bria followed her, along with Roslyn and Owen. That left just me and Jo-Jo in the den. The middle-aged dwarf got to her feet and walked over to me, her black heels clacking on the floor.


    "Are you sure you''re ready for this?" Jo-Jo asked in her slow Southern drawl. "It might be harder than you think it''s going to be."


    I nodded. "I know, but today''s the day, and I''m as ready as I''ll ever be."


    Jo-Jo reached out and grabbed my hand, gently squeezing my fingers with hers. I breathed in, and her perfume tickled my nose with its sweet scent.


    "Don''t worry, darling," she said. "It''ll be fine. You''ll see."


    Chapter Two


    I looked at the dwarf, wondering if she was using her Air elemental magic to peer into the future, but her colorless eyes were clear of the milky white clouds that sometimes wisped through her gaze.


    "I know it will be fine," I said in what I hoped was a strong voice. "Mab is dead. She can''t hurt me anymore. She can''t hurt anyone anymore."


    Jo-Jo cocked her head to the side, making the lily nestled in her hair bob up and down with the motion. "The dead can hurt us just as much as the living can. Sometimes even more so. You should know that by now, Gin."


    The dwarf squeezed my hand again and walked out of the den. Somehow, I held back the shiver that threatened to sweep through my body at her ominous words and followed her.


    Thirty minutes later, Owen stopped his car behind a long line of other vehicles that were parked on the side of the narrow, winding road. In the passenger''s-side mirror, I saw Sophia steer her classic convertible into the spot behind us, and there were more cars behind hers that were pulling over as well.


    "Are you sure you can''t get any closer?" Finn asked from the backseat.


    "No, I can''t get any closer," Owen said. "Do you not see all the other vehicles here? Besides, it won''t kill you to walk, you know."


    Finn sniffed and pulled down his jacket. "No, but it will kill my new suit. I don''t want to get grass and pollen all over it. That will ruin the fabric, not to mention make me sneeze for hours."


    I looked at Owen and rolled my eyes. My lover winked at me. He always found Finn''s grandiose statements and put-upon airs much more amusing than I did.

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    "Don''t worry, Finn," Roslyn said. "You''ll look wonderful no matter what. After all, it''s not the suit that makes the man. It''s the man who makes the suit. Isn''t that what they say?"


    Finn preened at her words. Roslyn tended to have that effect on men. I turned around to look at the vampire. Roslyn smiled and shrugged her shoulders. Amusement glinted in her toffee-colored eyes.


    "Look at the crowd," Bria murmured from the backseat, peering through the window at the folks streaming past the car. "I didn''t think this many people would show up. Did everybody in Ashland decide to come here today?"


    "Probably everyone in the underworld," I said. "You know the old saying: ''The queen is dead. Long live the queen.''"


    The five of us got out of the car. Sophia and Jo-Jo walked over to us, and then we all fell in step with the hundreds of people who had gathered to pay their respects.


    My boots sank into the thick, soft grass and I breathed in, enjoying the rich smell of the earth. Maple, poplar, and sycamore trees stretched toward the cloudless cerulean sky, their brown branches already budding out with new leaves and providing a bit of shade for the crowd below. It was warm for this early in March, and there would be more cold days to come, but I tilted my face up, welcoming the sunshine and the promise of spring in the air - small things I appreciated more than ever this year, since I''d spent the last few weeks cooped up indoors. Yes, all in all, this was a beautiful day and a pretty spot - for a cemetery.


    Ashland Memorial Cemetery spread out over about two square miles, tombstones and grave markers looking like dull silver needles sticking up out of the rolling green landscape before the monuments ended and the rocky ridges of the Appalachian Mountains took over. The cemetery was located in Northtown, the part of the city that the rich and powerful called home, and those were the folks who were buried here, each one with a marker that was bigger and more intricately carved than the last. Competition among the rich just never seemed to end in Ashland, not even in death.


    We headed deeper into the cemetery, and I reached out with my Stone magic, listening to the whispers of the tombstones around us. Murmurs of old tears, old hurts and griefs, mixed with newer, rawer emotions echoed back to me. Common enough sounds in a place like this, although I also heard several notes of unease and worry rippling through the tombstones, reflecting the feelings of those who had gathered here today - something else I''d expected. With Mab gone, no one in the underworld knew quite what to do, now that her fiery fist wasn''t poised over their heads, ready to crush, burn, and grind them into ashes at any moment.


    The crowd was exactly what I''d expected it to be. I spotted many of the Ashland crime bosses milling around, folks like Phillip Kincaid, who owned the Delta Queen riverboat casino. Despite the occasion and the somber suit he wore, Kincaid had a cold, calculating smile on his face. In fact, most everyone was smiling and chatting with their neighbors, even the folks who''d been in business with Mab . . . well, if sharks showing their teeth could be considered smiling. With the Fire elemental gone, it was clear that it was a brand-new day in Ashland. I just wondered how I fit into things now.


    However, there was one person who wasn''t smiling - Jonah McAllister. The lawyer was one of those who''d chosen to sit in the red plush chairs that had been set up on the grass. McAllister sat alone in the front row of chairs, staring straight ahead, his unnaturally smooth face even blanker than usual. Mab didn''t have any living relatives that I knew of, and with Elliot Slater, her other number two man dead, I guessed McAllister was the closest thing she''d had to family - or even just a friend. Hence his position in the first row of chairs.


    All of the chairs had already been taken, except for the empty ones around McAllister that were reserved for those closest to the dead; but the rest of the crowd had spread out in a semicircle, so we were able to find a spot in the ring of people and see what was happening. Not much, since everyone was busy staring at the closed ebony coffin that stood in the middle of them all.


    Mab Monroe might be dead, but she was once again the center of attention.


    As she should be, at her own funeral.


    Mab''s funeral. I''d never thought I''d live to see this day. But here I was - and Mab too. Both of us together again, for the final time.


    Maybe it was morbid of me to attend the funeral of the woman I''d killed. Maybe it was impolite or in poor taste or just downright mean. I''d never come to the funerals of any of the other people I''d assassinated as the Spider . . . well, except to do recon on or take out another target. No doubt some folks would think that I''d come here today just to thumb my nose at Mab one last time before she was officially six feet under.


    But that wasn''t the case. I hadn''t come here to mock Mab: I''d come to say good-bye to her.


    In her own brutal way, the Fire elemental had been a part of my life since I was thirteen, and even more so these past few months while I''d been plotting how to take her down. Now that she was gone, I felt her absence, and I wanted to make my peace with the role she''d played in my life - and finally move on. In fairy tales, people always lived happily ever after once the witch was dead. They faded to black with everyone happy and smiling. It was a nice thought, but those things couldn''t last forever, and I wanted to know what came next.


    The others had told me that Mab was dead, and I''d seen the news reports myself. In fact, the Fire elemental''s demise was all that the media in Ashland had talked about for the last few weeks, given how sudden and violently she had died. The fact that it had taken the coroner''s office so long to positively identify her body had only added to the speculation and media frenzy.


    But part of me had needed to come here today and see it for myself: I had to see for myself that Mab was truly, finally dead.


    The ebony coffin was closed - not surprising, given the fact that my Ice and Stone magic had wreaked just as much havoc on her body as her elemental Fire had on mine. Finn had told me that Mab had pretty much been reduced to charred bones during our duel as the cold and hot flames of our respective magics washed over her.


    However, a portrait of Mab stood on an easel next to the coffin, showing the Fire elemental in all her glory: hair as bright as copper, black eyes, creamy skin, a necklace ringing her throat. My gaze fixed on the necklace, which was shaped like a sunburst, the symbol for fire, the rune that had been Mab''s personal symbol. The necklace had actually survived our duel, but I''d used my Ice magic to smash it into a hundred pieces.


    I''d hoped I would never see that rune again, but I couldn''t escape it, because the symbol was on the coffin as well.


    Several dozen wavy golden rays glimmered on the side of the ebony casket, clustered around a large red gem. A real ruby, and not just expensive glass. My Stone magic let me hear the gemstone''s proud whispers of its own elegance. The sound mixed in with the similar, boastful murmurs of the jewels the other mourners wore. I could just make out a matching gem sticking up from the top of the coffin and another one down from the bottom, and I was willing to bet there was a rune on the far side, too, although I couldn''t see it from where I was standing.


    The sight of the sunburst, along with Mab''s smiling portrait, made my hands start to itch and burn. Mab had melted my own silverstone rune necklace into my hands when I was a kid, branding my palms with a small circle surrounded by eight thin rays. A spider rune, the symbol for patience.


    "Are you okay?" Owen whispered, noticing me rubbing first one hand, then the other.


    "Yeah. I''m fine," I said in a low voice. "I should have realized they''d have a picture of her set up. It''s just a little . . . eerie, seeing her face again. And all those runes on her coffin aren''t helping."


    He reached over and squeezed my hand, the warmth of his touch banishing the phantom pains in my palms. I flashed him a grateful smile and threaded my fingers through his.


    A minister holding a Bible separated himself from the chattering crowd and walked over to a wooden podium that had been set up on one side of the coffin. He opened his Bible, took out some white index cards, and cleared his throat a few times, telling everyone that it was time to begin the service.


    The crowd shuffled a little closer together, closing ranks so that everyone could see and hear the minister. My family and I stood to the left of the minister and coffin, at the nine o''clock position in the group of mourners who''d gathered here today.


    Slowly, the crowd quieted down and gave the minister their full attention. Everyone might be relieved that Mab was gone, but this was still a funeral, an occasion deserving of respect. All the underworld figures might be here mixing with their mortal enemies, plotting against them with a passion, and gleeful Mab was dead, but we''d all behave ourselves at her funeral. More or less. We Southerners were a little funny that way.


    As the minister began the service, I looked around, my eyes going from one face to another. I knew more than a few folks. Some I''d done jobs for as the Spider, taking out their enemies, their business partners, or whomever else they''d wanted out of their lives. Others were the friends and family of those I''d killed. And then there were people like Phillip Kincaid who I knew only by reputation. Altogether, more than five hundred people had shown up at the funeral, not counting the news crews who were stationed at the entrance to the cemetery. The media hadn''t been allowed inside to cover the service, no doubt because of all the crime bosses here today. Ashland might be a corrupt city, but folks still wanted to keep up the appearance of being legitimate, respectable businessmen and -women.


    I kept looking at all the faces around me, and more than a few folks stared back at me, curiosity and wariness gleaming in their eyes, their lips pulled back into toothy, predatory smiles. Finn had told me there were rumors going around the underworld about me and how I was really the Spider, the assassin who''d killed Mab. It looked like the rumors were a little more widespread than Finn had led me to believe, given all the calculating glances coming my way. But there was nothing I could do about that right now, so I kept scanning the crowd.


    Eventually, I noticed a woman standing alone just beyond the semicircle of supposed mourners. She wore a simple but elegant black dress and looked to be about my age, although I couldn''t really tell, because of the black pillbox hat and lacy veil that covered her face. All I could really see of her features were her crimson lips, but she wasn''t smiling like everyone else here was. If anything, she seemed . . . thoughtful.


    I frowned, wondering who the mystery woman might be. Another business associate of Mab''s? Someone the Fire elemental had hurt? Or someone else entirely? I had no way of knowing, but her calm, relaxed stance and distance from everyone else roused my interest and suspicion. I doubted she could even see the coffin from where she stood, but she seemed content to watch from her position. I made a note to ask Finn if he knew who she was after the service was over. My curiosity almost always got the best of me like that.


    Finally, my gaze met Jonah McAllister''s. The lawyer glared at me, even though the minister was standing in front of him, talking about Mab and what an impact she''d had on Ashland. Well, that was one way of putting it.


    The lawyer''s brown eyes were as cold as mine were, and his wrinkle-free face tightened that much more as he glared at me. McAllister hated me for killing his son, Jake, who''d been stupid enough to try to rob the Pork Pit and then had threatened to rape and murder me. As far as I was concerned, Jake had gotten exactly what he deserved - better than what he deserved, actually, since his death had been relatively quick. He wouldn''t have shown me the same courtesy if he''d had me at his mercy. No, I didn''t have any regrets about stabbing Jake to death, despite the fact that Jonah had tried to have me killed more than once for that and all the other insults I''d hurled his way over the past several months.


    I wondered what Jonah was thinking about as he sat at his boss''s funeral . . . what he was feeling right now. I imagined it couldn''t be anything good, especially not about me. . . .


    Chapter Three


    Jonah McAllister


    I couldn''t believe the bitch was still alive - and that she''d dared to show her face here today. Some people just had no class, no manners, and no respect, and Gin Blanco was one of them.


    Gin Blanco. The assassin the Spider. It was still difficult for me to reconcile they were one and the same. The bitch had seemed so small and dull and ordinary the first time I met her in that run-down rattrap of a barbecue restaurant she ran downtown. Just another business owner I had to pay off because of Jake''s stupidity in trying to rob her. I should have known there was more to her than met the eye when she refused my generous offer to compensate her if she dropped the charges against my son - and then smashed a plate of food into Jake''s face when he''d charged at her. It wasn''t anything I hadn''t done myself - more than once, truth be told - but the action still surprised me. It seemed so violent, so vicious, so at odds with the calm mask she''d worn up until that point.


    Oh, yes. I should have known there were hidden depths to Ms. Blanco from that very first day.


    I warned Blanco what would happen if she decided to do the foolish thing and stand up against me, but she seemed almost delighted by the prospect of taking me on. Another clue I should have seen back then. Still, I wasn''t too worried about her - until Jake''s body was discovered in a bathtub at Mab''s mansion.


    It didn''t surprise me that my son would die in such a sudden, violent manner. Jake never could keep his mouth shut or stay out of trouble, and it was only a matter of time before the spoiled brat pissed off the wrong person. But the location was certainly shocking. I thought Mab was going to kill me right there in the bathtub, along with Jake, for bringing such embarrassment to her. Murdering someone inside Mab''s mansion . . . well, only she was allowed to do that. Everyone in Ashland knew that you stayed on your best behavior whenever you were at Mab''s. But Blanco didn''t seem to care. I never figured out if she''d killed Jake just for spite or if my son had threatened her again in some way that night. Probably both.

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    I immediately suspected Blanco had had something to do with Jake''s death, given his problems with her, although I couldn''t figure out how she had gotten past security and into the mansion. She certainly wasn''t the sort of person who normally got an invitation to one of Mab''s parties. Despite my suspicions that she was somehow involved, no one believed me and no one listened to me - not Mab and not Elliot. But I knew in my heart who had killed my son, and I was determined to get my revenge. I might not have particularly cared for Jake - might have always found him to be a bitter disappointment, a small-minded buffoon with no self-discipline or real ambition - but he was still my son, and nobody messed with the McAllisters.


    Ever since then, planning Ms. Blanco''s death was an amusing pastime of mine. I was quite happy when Elliot finally beat and questioned her about Jake''s death one night at the community college. But Blanco''s fake whimpers, crocodile tears, and ragged whispers of fear fooled the others, and Mab didn''t let Elliot kill her then the way I wanted him to. Now the giant was dead - blasted to hell with a shotgun, thanks to Blanco - and so was Mab.


    I stared at the portrait of the Fire elemental. Even in death, her face was as familiar to me as my own. Sometimes it felt like I''d spent a lifetime intensely staring at Mab''s features, trying to interpret what the slightest quirk of her mouth or the faintest lift of her eyebrow really meant. I''d had to, in order to keep her happy without getting burned myself - in more ways than one. Mab had never been shy about showing her anger - and magic - to those who displeased her.


    In some ways, I was relieved she was dead. I''d been her father Marcus''s lawyer first, and when Mab killed him in an elemental duel and took over his business interests, I quickly swore my allegiance to her in the name of self-preservation. I think it amused her to keep me on, knowing that I would do anything to please her - and anything to save myself from her fiery wrath.


    Still, it was never easy working for Mab. More than once, I went into a room with her wondering if I would live to walk out of it again. And more than once, I saw her use her Fire magic to its full and deadliest effect. I never quite got used to the stench and sizzle of burning flesh, but those things might as well have been Mab''s perfume and anthem, as often as I smelled and heard them over the years.


    The stress of working for her father and then Mab herself took its toll - aging me before my time. I was gray by the time I was thirty and looked sixty when I was forty - at least until I started a strict regimen of diet, exercise, and Air elemental facial treatments. I kept the silver in my hair, though. It gave me a gravitas I enjoyed.


    Despite the stress, I was smart and shrewd and most important I was a survivor. More than once, I blamed my mistakes on someone else, even planting the evidence to back up my charges, if necessary. Mab then took out her fiery rage on the other party accordingly, instead of me. If she knew I was really the one who''d screwed up, well, she either didn''t care or she liked watching me dance to her tune too much to murder me. Dance, Jonah, dance. At least, that''s what I told myself.


    But now the reality of the situation, of a life without Mab, was staring at me - hundreds of eyes, in fact, all staring at me.


    Everyone who was anyone in the Ashland underworld had turned out for the funeral, as well as those in legitimate business circles in the city and beyond, but I paid attention only to the other crime bosses. Folks like Ron Donaldson with his bad comb-over and bulging belly; the always mysterious Beauregard Benson; and Lorelei Parker, her soft, lush body at odds with her ruthless nature.


    I greeted them all in turn as they arrived, shaking hands and exchanging meaningless pleasantries, but I heard the not-so-subtle whispers as soon as I turned my back to them.


    "Not so high and mighty these days, is he?"


    "Not without Mab."


    "Poor Jonah. It must be hard to know how irrelevant he is now."


    Yes, all the other bosses were there supposedly to pay their respects to Mab, but really they were all just sizing each other up and plotting how they could take the Fire elemental''s place. Now they were all staring at me, sitting alone in the front row, without Mab beside me.


    It was still hard for me to believe that she was gone. I kept turning to my right, expecting her to be perched next to me, ready to ask her if she needed anything, ready to peer into her eyes, study her face, and sweat about what I needed to do to keep her happy today. But Mab was dead, thanks to Blanco, and I was all alone. I knew what the other bosses were thinking: that I would be easy to dispose of now that the Fire elemental was gone.


    I was determined to show them just how wrong they were.


    Oh, I knew that I wasn''t a leader. Not really. I didn''t have the brawn or the raw magic for that. Not as a human, not in Ashland, with all its dwarves, giants, elementals, and vampires. No, I was much better in a managerial position, taking care of legal matters that inevitably cropped up whenever you got your hands dirty with drugs, gambling, prostitution, extortion, and all the other crimes everyone loved to commit, oversee, and profit from in the city.


    I''d put out a few subtle feelers, offering my services and expertise to some of the more established and respected crime bosses, including Phillip Kincaid, but all my advances had been rebuffed thus far. Kincaid had declined my services, as had Benson. At least they knew enough to be polite about things. Donaldson had laughed in my face, while Parker had had her giant bodyguards simply pick me up - chair and all - remove me from her office, take me outside, and dump me in the street like trash. I wasn''t going to forget those slights. No, I had plans for Donaldson, Parker, and everyone else who''d mocked me these last few weeks.


    I''d had a few offers for work come in, but all from those I considered beneath me, minor thugs who were too stupid to last very long, like Wallace Conroy, a vampire pimp who had on the most garish black crushed-velvet suit I''d ever had the misfortune to see. He looked like he was wearing a love seat for a jacket. Conroy noticed me staring at him and waved at me, as if it were perfectly polite to flap his hand around during a funeral service. Even worse, the motion caused the thick gold bracelet on his wrist to flash in the light. No class, no manners, and absolutely no brains. I turned away in disgust.


    Either way, most everyone wanted to assume Mab''s mantle of power on their own, without any help from me. Fools. With my knowledge of Mab''s businesses, legitimate and otherwise, I could have made things so much easier for them. But of course they couldn''t see that - they couldn''t see the big picture like I could, like I''d always been able to. They didn''t have the discipline to plan and plot and think ahead like I did. I''d had to do those things just to stay alive in Mab''s employment. Skills that would serve me well, now that she was gone.


    Still, if the other bosses wanted to disregard my offers of information and try to climb to the top of the crime ladder themselves, that was fine with me. I''d just sit idly by and wait until they''d killed each other off one by one. Once the dust settled and a clear winner emerged, I would reassess things.


    In the meantime, there was one thing I was determined about: that Gin Blanco was going to die.


    I stared past the minister at the troublesome bitch. I''d thought she might show up here today. Part of me had hoped she would, and I''d been eager to see her, eager to see just how much Mab had hurt her. If Ms. Blanco couldn''t be dead, then being horribly scarred, burned, and a small, pitiful shell of her former self would have been the next best thing. I would have been somewhat satisfied with that - for a time, anyway.


    But of course Blanco had gotten some Air elemental to patch her up, probably Jo-Jo Deveraux, that old beauty queen dwarf who was standing with the rest of the bitch''s group of misfits. Blanco looked no worse for wear. In fact, her skin was positively glowing, and she looked as fresh and relaxed as if she''d spent a long weekend at a spa. Envy stabbed through me, along with disappointment.


    But my disappointment soon turned to anger. I''d been in the rubble-filled courtyard with Mab and Blanco when they had their elemental duel. Once the two of them started in on each other with their magic, I got myself to safety, determined to finally, happily, watch Mab kill the woman who''d caused me so many problems.


    But Blanco won instead. Somehow, she did something I didn''t think anyone could do: she killed Mab.


    That was shocking enough, but what really surprised me was how far and fast I fell as well. With Mab gone, so were all the things I''d enjoyed while serving the Fire elemental: my status, my position, my power, and most important the way I could merely look at someone and see him tremble knowing exactly who my employer was and what she was capable of. Working for Mab had been stressful, but I''d enjoyed those particular perks. I''d earned them over the years with all the messes I''d cleaned up for the Fire elemental and all the long hours I''d spent soothing her raging ego.


    But that was all gone, crumbled to ash just like Mab was. Now people didn''t look at me with fear in their eyes. Instead, they snickered at me behind my back. Blanco was the reason I''d lost all those precious things - and she was how I was going to get them back too.


    I doubted Blanco had thought ahead to what would happen to her now that Mab was dead, but I had - and I''d already sowed the seeds of discontent among the underworld. All I had to do was kill the bitch - or, rather, arrange for it to be done. I''ve never liked getting my hands dirty that way. I''ve always found much more pleasure in orchestrating someone''s death, rather than actually pulling the trigger myself. Anyone can buy a gun and shoot someone. It takes skill and finesse to take down your enemies from a distance and get away clean, with no one knowing - or at least being able to prove - that you were ever involved.


    Ms. Blanco didn''t know it, but Mab''s wasn''t the only funeral I''d been planning recently. She''d find out soon enough, though - and so would everyone else here today.


    Calmer now, I turned my attention back to the minister and focused on his words once more. This was a funeral, after all.


    An occasion worthy of respect.


    Gin Blanco


    Jonah McAllister dropped his eyes from mine, shifted in his seat, and stared at the minister again. Despite the minister''s somber words, McAllister''s thoughts must have been happy ones, because his mouth curved up into a thin smile, despite the smoothness of his features.


    I frowned. The lawyer was up to something. I didn''t know what yet, but I knew it probably involved me - and my messy death. It seemed like McAllister was always planning that. If that was the case, he was once again going to be sorely disappointed, because I had no plans to follow Mab to her grave anytime soon.


    A flash of light caught my eye. I blinked, thinking that it was just the sun reflecting off someone''s necklace or tie pin, but the light flashed again, and I realized it was coming from up in a towering maple tree about twenty feet behind the coffin. I squinted against the midafternoon glare, trying to see through the leafy branches and figure out exactly what was making that bright spot.


    Suddenly a beam of light slashed across the ground, and a small red dot appeared on Owen''s arm before zooming over to my chest - a sight that was all too familiar to an assassin like me.


    "Get down!" I screamed, and immediately threw myself on top of my lover.


    Crack! Crack!


    Two gunshots shattered the solemn silence, drowning out the minister''s words and kicking up tufts of grass and dirt where Owen and I had just been standing.


    A second later everyone was in motion. Surprised shouts and screams ripped through the air as the semicircle splintered and folks scrambled to take cover behind the tombstones and trees that dotted the landscape. The giant bodyguards shoved their clients down onto the grass, covering their bodies with their own larger, bulkier ones. By the time five seconds had passed, the cemetery looked deserted, as if no one were there instead of everyone hiding behind whatever they could. Whether they lived in the genteel confines of Northtown, the rough projects of South-town, or somewhere in between, most everybody in Ashland recognized the sound of gunfire when they heard it. You didn''t live long in this city if you didn''t know how to duck and cover when the shooting started.


    More red dots popped up here and there in the cemetery as the sniper kept firing, spreading his shots out over the crowd. At first, I thought he was just picking targets at random, but he focused several shots in the direction of Ron Donaldson and Lorelei Parker, even though they were both on the ground being protected by their giants. But not all the crime bosses were cowering behind or underneath their bodyguards. Beauregard Benson remained where he was, his arms crossed over his chest and a smile on his face, as if he were enjoying the chaos and the screams of those around him. Phillip Kincaid was also standing, peering around the side of a statue of an angel as if trying to figure out where the shots were coming from. I couldn''t quite tell from this angle, but I thought Kincaid had a gun in his hand, like he wanted to take out the sniper himself.


    Roslyn and Jo-Jo had both ducked down behind a square headstone, and Jo-Jo had one hand on her hat, trying to keep it in place. Sophia stood her ground, looking for the source of the shots, since her thick musculature would stop most bullets before they reached anything vital. Beside me, Finn had put himself on top of Bria and had already drawn the gun out from against the small of his back, although my sister was trying to wriggle out from under him and was reaching for her own weapon.


    "Sniper!" I yelled at Finn. "In the maple tree! Cover me!"


    Finn nodded, rose to one knee, and trained his gun in that direction. I got to my feet and sprinted across the grass.


    Crack! Crack!


    Chapter Four


    More shots rang out. I saw wood splinter on the tree ahead of me, and I knew that Finn was laying down the cover fire I''d asked him to, giving me a chance to get to the sniper.


    Finn and the sniper exchanged a few more shots before the shooter pulled back behind a branch high up in the tree. He was probably reloading. I picked up my pace, leaping over the folks still cowering on the ground. Even the minister had taken cover, hunkering down behind Mab''s coffin. He knew the score in Ashland just like the rest of us did.

 Page 4

    I made it over to the tree, sucking wind the whole time. I hadn''t sprinted that far, only several hundred feet, but my knees ached, my legs felt weak and wobbly, and my arms weren''t much better. Damn. I hated not being a hundred percent. Still, I didn''t have time to curse my lingering weakness. Instead, I snapped my head up and peered through the leaves.


    The sniper was about thirty feet above me, standing on a couple of thick, sturdy boards he''d nailed into place. What had he done, built a fucking tree house up there before the funeral? The sniper had noticed my run across the grass. He leaned over to one side, peering down at me, and I realized he was a dwarf with dull brown hair that blended in with the branches around him.


    The dwarf let out a curse, raised his rifle to his shoulder, and trained the weapon on me. My muscles may not have been fully recovered from my fight with Mab, but there was nothing wrong with my magic. As soon as he started swiveling in my direction, I reached for my Stone power, using it to harden my skin into an impenetrable shell.


    Crack! Crack!


    Two more shots came my way, making me stagger back, but thanks to my Stone power, the bullets hit my chest and then bounced right off, flying across the grass. The dwarf looked down at me, his mouth gaping, as if he couldn''t believe I was still standing. Yeah, I got that reaction a lot.


    Despite the fact that he''d just tried to kill me, I could tell a hired gun when I saw one, so I decided to see if he could be reasoned with, mainly because I didn''t have any desire - much less the physical strength - to climb up into the tree and get him. Not today, anyway.


    "You''re going to run out of bullets sooner or later, so you might as well come on down," I said in a cold voice, peering up through the leaves and branches at him. "Because you do not want me to come up there after you."


    Apparently the dwarf decided to call my bluff, because he raised his rifle again.


    Crack! Crack! Crack!


    More bullets roared through the air, but the sniper wasn''t as careful with his aim as before, so most of the shots just thumped into the grass at my feet. Still, it was enough to make most of the mourners scream and cower once more.


    The shooting stopped, and the dwarf cursed again as he reloaded. Every movement made him jingle, like his pockets were full of bullets rattling around together. I sighed: it looked like he''d brought along more ammunition than I''d given him credit for. Well, at least he''d come prepared. I had to admire that. Now I just had to figure out how to get him to stop shooting and pry him out of the tree.


    There was only one choice really: I had to use my magic.


    Sure, I''d already reached for my Stone power, using it to protect myself; but what I had in mind now would be a much more obvious display of my elemental ability. Most folks here might have heard the rumors about my being the Spider, but I didn''t want to give them any more hints about me or add any more fuel to the fires of speculation.


    But I couldn''t risk the dwarf pointing his rifle back out at the crowd and taking shots at everyone else. Sooner or later he was bound to hit someone, and it would be just my bad luck that an innocent person would get hurt. Or, worse, that the dwarf would target my family. No, I had to get that rifle out of his hands right now. At least, most of the crime bosses were still huddled on the grass underneath the bodies of their giant guards. Maybe they wouldn''t see exactly what I was doing. I snorted. Right. Nobody was that lucky - especially not me.


    I stepped forward and reached for my magic. But not my Stone power. No, this time, I grabbed hold of my Ice magic. For a moment I smiled, relishing the feel of the cool power flowing through my veins; then I pushed the magic outward. A cold silver light flickered on my palm, centered in the middle of the spider rune scar there. I leaned forward, placed my hand against the rough bark of the tree trunk, and let loose with my power.


    Ice crystals spread out from my palm, climbing higher and higher into the maple, zipping from one branch, one leaf, to the next. If I wanted to, I could have frozen the entire tree in a matter of seconds with my elemental Ice, but that would have just been showing off, something I didn''t need or even want to do. So I focused on the branches closest to the sniper, forcing the Ice crystals in that direction - and then out onto the boards the dwarf had nailed to the tree.


    The sniper let out a surprised shout and backed up, trying to get away from the encroaching crystals, but there was no escaping them - or how slippery they were. The dwarf''s boots skidded this way and that on the elemental Ice, and he held on to the rifle, his arms twirling around like he was a figure skater, but he couldn''t stop the inevitable. One foot slipped over the side of the platform, then the other.


    The dwarf screamed all the way down to the ground.


    I let go of my magic, dropped my hand from the tree trunk, and stepped to one side. The sniper hit the ground with a satisfying thump. I had no illusions he was dead, though. The shooter''s body didn''t look as thick and strong as Sophia''s, but he was still a dwarf, which meant that he could take a lot of damage before he was down for the count. A thirty-foot fall probably wouldn''t even break any of the bastard''s bones.


    The drop stunned the dwarf for a second, but he recovered quickly. I''d just started to reach for him when he rolled over onto his side away from me and scrambled to his feet. His eyes dropped to the sniper rifle, which lay between us, and I could see him wondering whether it was worth it to try to lunge for the weapon and shoot me at point-blank range.


    The dwarf made the right decision and decided not to go for the weapon. Instead, he bared his teeth at me, turned, and ran to the left, hurrying across the cemetery lawn as fast as he could. I sighed, hating the thought of having to chase after him. Why did they always have to run -


    Crack!


    Crack! Crack! Crack!


    Crack! Crack!


    Shot after shot rang out, until it seemed like the whole cemetery had erupted in gunfire. I clapped my hands over my ears and turned around. Apparently, the giants and other bodyguards had decided to earn their keep today, because many of them had gotten to their feet, pulled out their guns from their suit jackets, and opened fire on the running dwarf. Earlier, I''d been right when I thought that Kincaid had a gun, because he''d joined the ranks of the bodyguards, firing shot after shot from a silver revolver.


    The dwarf was quick - but not quite quick enough. A bullet clipped him in the shoulder, spinning him around so that he was facing the crowd and letting the bodyguards get a bead on him.


    Crack!


    Crack! Crack! Crack!


    Crack! Crack!


    Bullet after bullet thumped into the dwarf''s chest, arms, and legs. Dwarves were tough, but this one never had a chance - not with so many people firing so much lead at him. His body vibrated back and forth from the force of the dozens of bullets slamming into him, until finally his legs went out from under him and he dropped to the grass. The bodyguards lowered their weapons, and the cemetery was silent once more, except for the overlapping echoes of all the gunshots rattling up the ridge above. The smell of burned gunpowder filled the air, overpowering the earthy scent of the grass and trees.


    When I was sure that everyone had lowered their guns and no one was going to turn their weapons in my direction, I let go of my Stone magic, walked over to the dwarf, and dropped to a knee beside him.


    He was a fucking mess. The sniper''s clothes hung in tatters from his body, his entire chest black with bullet holes and red with the blood that was gushing out of them. Still, I leaned forward, dug my hands into what was left of his shirt, and jerked him up toward me.


    "Who hired you?" I demanded. "Were you here for me or someone else? One of the other crime bosses, maybe? Tell me who you were trying to kill!"


    But it was too late. The dwarf tried to say something, but his answer was lost in a gurgle of blood that oozed out of the side of his mouth and dripped onto the grass. He shuddered out a breath, his eyes glazed over, and his head lolled to one side while the rest of his body relaxed. Dead.


    I dropped him, and he flopped back down to the ground. I got to my feet and turned around to find people staring at me. Everyone - all the bodyguards, all the bosses, even the minister - was peering at me with wide eyes. Now, instead of the Fire elemental, I was the center of attention.


    I sighed yet again. So much for a solemn service.


    Owen, Finn, and Bria got to their feet and hurried over to me. Sophia helped Jo-Jo and Roslyn stand up, and I waved at the three women, letting them know that I was okay. They waved back and started walking in our direction.


    "Gin! Are you all right?" Owen asked, hugging me tight, then holding me out at arm''s length and scanning my face and the rest of my body for injuries.


    "I''m fine," I said. "There''s not a scratch on me. For once."


    "Well, the same can''t be said for our friend here," Finn drawled, staring down at all the bullet holes in the sniper''s body.


    Bria stood next to him, looking at the dead dwarf as well. After a moment she shook her head. "I''ll call it in," she said in a resigned voice.


    "Bria - "


    I held out my hand to her, hoping to explain, but my sister had already turned away. I couldn''t tell if she hadn''t heard me . . . or if she had just decided to ignore me instead. I let my hand drop to my side, hurt by the idea that Bria was shunning me. Mab was dead. We should be closer together now than ever, but instead it seemed like we were drifting further and further apart, and I had no idea how to reach her. Everything I did only seemed to make things worse - like coming to the funeral today.


    Bria walked a few feet away, pulled a cell phone out of her purse, and started dialing, summoning her fellow members of the po-po to the scene.


    "Wow, Gin," Finn said in an amused voice. "You''ve really done it this time."


    "What do you mean?"


    He swept his hand out, the gesture meant to encompass the whole cemetery. "I mean, take a look around. Not only did you kill Mab, but you pretty much trashed her funeral, too, ruining her last little hurrah in this world. It''s like the cherry on top of the ultimate revenge sundae. A dish definitely served cold."


    I looked out over the crowd. Everyone had gotten to their feet now that the sniper was dead and the danger had passed. Most of the mourners were covered with dirt and grass, and several folks looked smushed after being pounced on and driven into the ground by their giant bodyguards. No one seemed to be seriously injured, though.


    However, the same couldn''t be said for the rest of Ashland Memorial Cemetery. Many of the monuments and headstones were cracked and riddled with bullet holes where the bodyguards had opened fire on the sniper, and several of the older, more delicate and brittle markers had been completely shattered on impact. The wail of the cracked and broken stones echoed in my ears, the marble and granite shocked out of the quiet passage of time by the sudden eruption of violence and the horrible damage that had been done to them. One monument in particular caught my eye. A tall, slender angel stood off to my left, the one Kincaid had taken cover behind. Her once beautiful wings had been chipped off, and bullets had also struck her face, scorching the stone and making her look like she was weeping black tears.


    As much as I hated to admit it, Finn was right: I had ruined Mab''s funeral - and the cemetery too.


    Chapter Five


    "It''s okay, darling," Jo-Jo said, coming up to stand beside me, Finn, and Owen. "We all know you didn''t intend this."


    "Not your fault," Sophia added in her hoarse, raspy voice.


    "You couldn''t have known this was going to happen," Roslyn chimed in.


    "I doubt everyone else will believe that," I murmured. "No doubt some of them will think I planned the whole thing just to ruin the funeral like Finn said. Or, worse, that I hired the sniper to try and kill the crime bosses."


    Owen shook his head. "But we know you would never do something like that, not even to Mab. It doesn''t matter what anyone else thinks. We know the truth. So the question is: Who was the sniper really after? You? Another one of the bosses? More than one of them? And why here? Why today of all days?"


    My eyes swept over the crowd, going from one face to another. By this point, folks had started to cluster together, talking to each other or murmuring into their cell phones. All the bodyguards still had their guns out, their heads swiveling left and right, but I could have told them not to bother. The danger was dead. At least for today.


    Still, the bodyguards eyed me warily, as did their employers, including Phillip Kincaid.


    The casino boss politely tipped his head to me. The motion made the blond highlights in his short ponytail shimmer in the sun. That same smile I''d noticed earlier was still plastered on his face, although it was even wider now, as if he''d thoroughly enjoyed the show I''d inadvertently put on. I''d never spoken to Kincaid, but something about the way he looked at me made me feel like he knew a lot more about me than I did about him. That was worrisome, especially since Kincaid would no doubt be moving to consolidate his power base now that Mab was dead and almost buried.


    Still, I''d never made any problems for Kincaid, and he hadn''t for me, either. Hiring someone to kill me at Mab''s funeral just didn''t seem like his style.


    I couldn''t say the same thing about Jonah McAllister, though. He was talking to the minister, probably about trying to finish the service for Mab. He must have felt me staring at him, because he looked over his shoulder at me. The lawyer''s mouth puckered into a frown, and he turned his attention back to the minister. I didn''t know whether McAllister''s displeasure was because I''d ruined the service or I was still breathing. I imagined either one was more than enough to thoroughly piss him off.


    "My money''s on McAllister setting this up," I said, finally answering Owen''s question. "As to who he was after, the sniper had his sight set on you first before he switched it over to me, but that was probably just him turning the laser on and lining up his shot. I think he wanted to take me down first. It looked like he was aiming for Donaldson and Parker, too, given how many shots he fired at them."

 Page 5

    "But he kept firing even when you and the others were on the ground," Owen pointed out.


    I shrugged. "Maybe he was trying to get Donaldson, Parker, and some of the other bosses as a bonus. Maybe he had orders just to kill whomever he could. There''s just no way of knowing, but trying to have me or some of the other underworld players assassinated at Mab''s funeral is just the sort of underhanded, weaselly thing McAllister would do. As for why now, probably because this is one of the few times all the bosses have been together and that I''ve been out in such a public place since I killed Mab. McAllister wants me dead, and he probably thought this was his best shot - that I might still be weak from my fight with her. I would still be weak, if Jo-Jo hadn''t spent so much time and magic healing me."


    I didn''t add that my arms and legs were still twitching and trembling from my sprint across the cemetery and that I could feel the familiar exhaustion creeping up on me from overexerting myself. The others would probably insist on taking me home, and I still had unfinished business here.


    Jo-Jo patted my hand. "Something I was more than happy to do, darling. You know that."


    I nodded at the dwarf, but my gaze went back to McAllister. If the lawyer had been behind the attack, I wondered how he was feeling now that it had failed. He didn''t seem as upset as he should be, though, and I couldn''t help but wonder what else McAllister would plan now that he hadn''t gotten what he''d wanted at the funeral.


    I had a feeling I was going to find out sooner rather than later.


    The guns were holstered, the overturned chairs were righted, and folks took their places in the seats and around the coffin once more. It was a little more difficult this time, but eventually the minister got everyone settled down again and managed to finish the service. He consulted his notes and picked up right where he''d left off, talking about all of Mab''s contributions to various charities in Ashland and beyond and how she''d left a lasting legacy on the city that would be remembered for years to come.


    And now, so would her funeral - thanks to me.


    I kept glancing at the other mourners as he spoke, and more than a few folks looked back at me. For some reason I had a feeling like everything had changed since the shooting. Now, instead of looking at me with curiosity, everyone was staring at me with cold speculation, like I was a prize they''d suddenly set their sights on, one they wanted to win no matter what.


    The rest of the service went off without a hitch, and the minister had just finished speaking when blue and white lights started flashing in the distance. Several sedans and cop cars entered the cemetery, letting everyone know that the police had finally arrived.


    You would think that the appearance of the po-po would cause all the crime bosses to quietly, discreetly leave the scene as fast as they could. But this wasn''t a normal city: this was Ashland, where practically all the cops were on the take. Instead of shying away from the police, many of the underworld figures greeted the cops like they were old friends. Hell, I even saw Kincaid shaking hands with some folks in the coroner''s office. More than a few C-notes exchanged hands as the crime lords and ladies slipped their po-po and other informants their usual bribes to report back on the shooting here today. Sometimes I thought the underworld movers and shakers should just go ahead and take over the police department instead of playing this elaborate game. At least then the corruption would have an official city stamp of approval on it.


    Once the bribes had been handed out, the bosses said their good-byes to their informants, got into their limos and expensive sedans, and rode away. The other mourners started filing out of the cemetery as well, now that the show was over and the cleanup had started.


    "If you don''t need us anymore, we''re going home, darling," Jo-Jo said. "I need to feed Rosco and get everything set up in the salon for my morning customers."


    "Thank you for coming and being here with me," I said, looking at her and Sophia. "Both of you."


    "Welcome," Sophia rasped.


    The Goth dwarf nodded at me, then she and Jo-Jo started walking across the grass to her convertible.


    "Now what?" Owen asked.


    I looked around at the emptying cemetery. "Now we go see what Bria has found out about the dead guy. Who knows, maybe we''ll get lucky and he''ll actually have some info on him about who hired him and whether he was after me or someone else."


    The two of us walked over to Finn, who was talking to a giant who was around seven feet tall. The giant had one arm around Roslyn and was holding her close, while the vampire had her arm wrapped around his waist and was resting her head on his chest. The sun glinted off the giant''s shaved head as he nodded at something Finn said.


    Xavier, Bria''s partner on the force and a friend of mine, grinned when he saw me come up behind Finn. "Hello, Gin. Good to see you out and about. Tell me, have you danced on Mab''s grave yet?"


    "No," I replied, smiling back at him. "But only because they haven''t officially buried her yet. Trust me. It''s on my to-do list."


    Xavier glanced over at a group of three dwarves who were wearing gray coveralls, drinking sodas, and leaning on shovels a few feet away from Mab''s coffin. Apparently they were waiting for everyone to clear out before they buried the Fire elemental. They''d be waiting awhile longer now that the police were here.


    While Owen and Finn talked with Xavier and Roslyn, I headed over to Bria, who was using a pen to flip through the dwarf''s wallet, which she''d fished out of his pants pocket.


    "Anything interesting in there?" I asked.


    She shook her head, making the sunlight dance through her blond hair. "Not much. Driver''s license says his name is Jack Spenser. Address says he''s a local who lives in an apartment building over in Southtown. I''ve got someone running down his friends and family now, but so far no luck finding anyone who knew him."


    "Cell phone?"


    "Just a brand-new burner phone in his pocket, with a log that looks like he only got calls from another brand-new burner phone. Some odds and ends in his pockets: loose change, a pack of gum, a paper clip. The most interesting thing is the five thousand dollars in cash he had on him."


    She pointed her pen at the fat roll of hundreds bound together with a rubber band that was sitting on the grass. The money was splattered with blood, just like the rest of the dwarf was, and it looked like a bullet had cut right through Ben Franklin''s face and lodged inside the rest of the cash.


    I arched an eyebrow. "He only got five thousand dollars to try and take me out? I''m rather insulted. I didn''t realize my rates had dropped so much so fast. Mab was offering at least five million to anyone who bagged me - ten if her bounty hunters managed to take me alive."


    Bria didn''t say anything, and she didn''t crack a smile at my black humor. If anything, her face darkened at the mention of Mab''s bounty. Instead of looking at me, she stared back down at the dead dwarf, thinking.


    "We''ll look at his phone calls and backtrack the bullets and the sniper rifle . . ." Her voice trailed off, and she shrugged.


    I knew what she meant. "But you doubt either one will lead you anywhere."


    "We both know how easy it is to get any kind of gun and ammo you want over in Southtown with no questions asked, and these burner phones are even more popular," Bria said. "Sorry, Gin, it looks like whoever hired the dwarf to crash the funeral covered his tracks pretty well."


    This time I shrugged. "Well, you know me: I prefer to handle my own problems anyway rather than relying on the police."


    Bria''s features hardened a little more at that. One of the uniformed officers waved at her and she got to her feet and went over to him without another word, her high heels driving spikes into the grass. I knew Bria was still trying to come to terms with the torture she''d suffered at Mab''s hands, but it was starting to feel like she thought the attack today was my fault. Hell, maybe it was. No matter how hard I tried to avoid it, trouble just seemed to follow me everywhere I went. I was just glad neither she nor any of the others had been hurt today.


    Part of me wanted to go after Bria, to say that I hadn''t planned any of this, but I didn''t know that it would do any good. So I turned my attention back to the dead dwarf, kneeling down beside his body. But there were no more clues to be found. Someone had cut open his shirt, probably one of the paramedics who''d arrived with the cops. I couldn''t even begin to count the number of bullet holes that riddled his chest, tearing through his muscles before punching out his back. He looked like ground-up sausage meat.


    Still, I had to admire the cleverness of the person who''d hired him. With so many bigwigs at the funeral and so many bodyguards, the dwarf had never had a chance of getting out of the cemetery alive. Even if he''d managed to kill me or one of the crime bosses, someone - Finn, Kincaid, or one of the bodyguards - probably would have gunned him down after the fact. So I would have been dead, the sniper would have been silenced, and whoever had planned this whole thing would probably have been whistling as he walked out of the cemetery.


    I just wondered who had hired the dwarf - and how long it would be before he or she decided to try again.


    It didn''t take the police and coroner''s office as long as I''d thought it would to put the dwarf in a black body bag, cart him away, collect their evidence, and go on their merry way. I guess because what had happened had been so cut-and-dried - and seen by so many witnesses.


    Chapter Six


    No one asked me any questions, and I didn''t volunteer to give a statement. The lower the profile I kept, the better. It was bad enough every crime boss in the city had been here today and had seen me racing toward the sniper. I didn''t want the cops to focus their attention on me as well. Then again, they didn''t really have a reason to, since I hadn''t actually killed anyone today - for a change.


    Still, I stayed in the cemetery, with Owen and Finn by my side. While the cops worked, Finn had his ear glued to his cell phone, calling number after number, seeing if any of his many spies and snitches had heard any chatter about the sniper at the funeral. Just about the time the cops wrapped up their investigation, Finn did the same and snapped his phone shut.


    "Nothing," he said. "Nobody heard so much as a peep about this before the guy started shooting this afternoon. Whoever hired the dwarf to ambush you did it real quiet like. But him shooting at the other bosses, too . . . well, it''s got everyone plenty pissed right now. They all want blood. At least, more than what was in the sniper."


    I''d figured as much, given the lack of evidence Bria had found on the body, but I nodded at my foster brother. "Thanks for checking anyway."


    "I wish I could tell you more, Gin," he said. "This worries me just as much as it does you."


    I hugged him. "I know, and I appreciate your concern, but we''ll figure it out. This isn''t the first time someone''s tried to kill me, and we know it won''t be the last. But we''ll be ready for them, just like we always are. Just like the old man taught us to be. Capisce?"


    Finn grinned. "Capisce."


    He hugged me again, then walked over to where Bria was wrapping things up with Xavier and Roslyn. Finn was going to catch a ride back into the city with the three of them. That left me and Owen standing by ourselves. We were the last two people in the cemetery. Even the minister had left a few minutes earlier, along with Jonah McAllister, although the lawyer hadn''t been able to resist giving me one more dirty look before he''d gotten into his car and driven away.


    I shifted back and forth on my feet, not ready to leave just yet. There was one more thing I had to do - something I didn''t want an audience for.


    Owen picked up on my mood. "I''ll be by the car if you need me," he said in a soft voice. "Take as long as you need."


    I nodded, grateful that I didn''t have to put my feelings into words for him. Owen always gave me the space I needed, which was one of the many things I loved about him. He knew I needed to say my final good-bye to Mab, and he was going to give me the time to do it on my own terms.


    Owen headed across the grass, going back to his car, vanishing from sight, and leaving me alone in the cemetery. Even the dwarves with the shovels had gotten bored and disappeared, probably digging another grave while they waited for the cops to finish up here at Mab''s.


    When I was sure I was alone, I drew in a breath and walked over to her casket.


    The coffin had been spared from the hail of gunfire that had erupted earlier, and its ebony surface was so smooth and shiny that I could see my reflection in the expensive, polished wood - and in the large golden rays that made up the sunburst runes on the sides.


    Up close, the rune was bigger than I''d realized, even larger than the necklace Mab had always worn. I suppose I shouldn''t have been surprised that the Fire elemental''s rune was featured so prominently on her coffin. More than a few of the grave markers sported the symbols of the elementals, vampires, and others who were buried beneath them. I looked at the sunburst runes a moment longer before wandering over and examining the flowers that had been set up at the foot of the casket, right next to Mab''s portrait.


    There were only two sprays of flowers: a very big and showy arrangement of white roses that bore Jonah McAllister''s name, and another, smaller one that featured crimson-colored orchids. A card said the orchids had come from some floral shop over in Cypress Mountain, but I didn''t see the name of the person who had sent them. For a moment I thought about the mysterious woman in black who I''d seen standing outside the ring of mourners. Maybe they were from her, whoever she was. I''d told Finn about the mystery woman, and he''d promised to look into it for me; but with everything that had happened here today, I wasn''t holding my breath that he''d find out anything about her.

 Page 6

    Once I''d examined the flowers, there was nothing left to do but what I''d come here for: to say my final farewell to Mab.


    I approached the coffin once more, staring down at its smooth surface, peering at my slightly warped reflection in the wood.


    "Well," I said. "Now that I''m here, I have to admit that I don''t quite know what to say. All along, I thought it would be you standing here in the end instead of me. I know you thought that too: that you would be the one who finally came out on top in our battle. You probably would have if Fletcher hadn''t trained me, if he hadn''t spent all those years preparing me to face you."


    Nothing happened. The wind didn''t pick up, the flowers didn''t flutter, the tree branches didn''t ominously creak overhead, thunder didn''t rumble, jagged streaks of lightning didn''t zigzag across the sky. I hadn''t really expected any of those things to occur, but that still didn''t keep me from pausing a moment to wonder if they might. The lightning certainly wouldn''t have been out of the realm of possibility, given my terrible luck and all the bad things I''d done over the years.


    I knew it was probably foolish of me, talking to the closed coffin of my mortal enemy, and if anyone else had heard me, they would have thought that Mab had fried my brain along with the rest of me. But I did it anyway, just like I always talked to Fletcher whenever I went to put fresh flowers on his grave. I needed to say the words, if only for myself.


    "I know this is when I''m supposed to say that part of me is sorry that you''re gone," I said. "But I''m not sorry - not one damn bit. And you wouldn''t be, either, if it was you standing here instead of me. Hell, you probably would have used your magic to burn my coffin to ashes during the funeral and roasted some marshmallows over the flames while you were at it. At least I''m sparing you that final indignity."


    I drew in a breath. "But it''s not really about you and me. Not anymore. I''m glad you''re dead because that means Bria and the rest of my friends and family are finally safe from you. At least, as safe as they can be in Ashland. Still, I have to admit that I''ve felt a little bit at loose ends lately. I guess I''m wondering what happens now that you''re gone, just like everyone else in Ashland. They''re all scrambling, you know, and killing each other off as fast as they can. I''m mildly surprised they all played nice long enough to get through your funeral. I think you would at least enjoy that, knowing what a tizzy your death has left everyone else in."


    I didn''t know what else to say, and now came the hardest part: trying to decide whether or not I wanted to open the coffin.


    It had been closed throughout the service, and no one had approached it, much less opened it, after the sniper attack. Maybe I was being morbid again, but I was curious about what was inside - if anything. I knew Mab had been just as badly burned by our magic as I''d been, and I wondered if the funeral home had just gone ahead and incinerated the rest of her or if someone had carefully arranged what was left of her skin and bones on top of the silk lining.


    The curiosity was killing me.


    I reached for the coffin lid, determined to open it and see for myself, but I stopped the second my fingers touched the smooth wood. After a moment I dropped my hand to my side. No, I didn''t want to see what was inside. I didn''t need to. I''d never forget the memory of shoving my silverstone knife into Mab''s heart, hearing her scream of rage and pain, and realizing that I''d finally killed her. The image had been burned into my brain, just like her magic had melted my bones. Even though the Fire elemental had been my most bitter enemy, I wasn''t going to insult her by peering at her remains like a vulture looking for one last bit of flesh to peck at.


    Even Mab deserved to rest in peace now, here, at the end.


    So, instead of opening the coffin, I bowed my head in respect, my hands clasped together in front of me, the two spider rune scars on my palms pressing together, just like they had the night the Fire elemental had put the marks there. Despite everything she''d done to me, I had to admit that Mab had been a worthy opponent, a nemesis who had kept me on my toes and made me work and work just to stay alive. Part of me knew I wouldn''t be me without her. Maybe it was wrong, but being the Spider was who and what I was. In a way, I had Mab to thank for that and everything I had today.


    I was still standing there, head bowed, when something whispered off to my right, like clothes rubbing together, and I noticed someone creeping up behind me in the reflection in the wooden coffin.


    I jerked to my left just in time to keep from being hit over the head by a dwarf with a shovel.


    The shovel slammed into the coffin, and the clanggg reverberated through the air, making my ears ring from the sharp sound. I whirled around and had to duck back the other way to avoid getting hit by a second dwarf with a second shovel, and there was yet a third dwarf armed the same way standing behind him, ready to get in on the action.


    Looked like the sniper in the tree hadn''t been the only one lying in wait for me here today. I should have known it was too easy: that the dwarf falling out of the tree and then getting shot by all the bodyguards had been too simple to be anything other than a diversion - or an opening salvo. Looked like whoever was after me was a little more clever than I''d realized. Use one assassin to fool me into thinking the plan had completely failed, and then wait until I was alone to blindside me with three more.


    It was just the sort of thing I''d expect from Jonah McAllister.


    "Time for you to die, bitch!" one of the dwarves hissed at me.


    The three dwarves raised their shovels once more and crept closer to me, penning me in against Mab''s coffin. I looked left and right, but there was nowhere to go. I couldn''t break through the group of dwarves in front of me, and I couldn''t exactly turn my back to them and use my knives to hack my way through Mab''s coffin - and whatever remained of the Fire elemental inside.


    So I put my hands down on the polished gold handrails on the side of the casket and waited - just waited for the right moment.


    The dwarves glanced at one another, then all rushed forward at once, ready to bash my head in and beat me to death with their shovels. I squatted down, then kicked up with my feet, managing to hop up so that I was sitting on top of the coffin - and I didn''t stop moving. I used my momentum to swing my legs up as well and rolled over, slipping off the casket and landing on the grass on the far side. I landed awkwardly, my left knee twisting into the ground at an angle. I hissed as pain shot through my entire leg, but I pushed the throbbing sensation to the back of my mind.


    Admittedly, it wasn''t the most graceful move I''d ever made as the Spider, but it was enough to get me out of immediate danger.


    Clang! Clang! Clang!


    The dwarves'' shovels banged into the side of the coffin where I''d been standing, their blows hard enough to chip the polished wood. They''d easily put enough force into those swings to crack my skull wide open. My eyes narrowed, and a cold, familiar anger began to burn in my heart. Now it was time to show them that I knew how to play dirty, too - dirty and very, very bloody.


    "Come on! Come on! Come on!" one of the dwarves shouted. "Get her!"


    I reached for my Stone magic for the second time that day, using it to harden my skin. Then I got to my feet and palmed one of my silver-stone knives. One dwarf hurried around the left end of the coffin while the other two scurried around the right side. I waited until the first one on the right was in range, then I kicked out with my left boot, catching him in the stomach and sending him lurching back into his friend. I hissed again as more pain pulsed through my knee and leg, but the two dwarves both fell down, which gave me a chance to focus on the third one coming at me from the left.


    He raised his shovel high once more, ready to bring it down and bash my brains out of my skull, but I didn''t give him the chance. I staggered forward, grabbed the shovel with my free hand, and then shoved my knife into his chest with the other. The dwarf yelped with pain and jerked back, trying to rip the shovel out of my hands and get away from my knife at the same time. But I tightened my grip, using my Stone magic to harden my fist around the wooden handle so he couldn''t tear it away from me. At the same time I also blasted the shovel with my Ice magic, driving the cold crystals deep into the cracks in the wood. I twisted my wrist, sending out another burst of Ice power, and the handle snapped like a matchstick.


    The dwarf froze, eyes wide, gaping at me. I used the opportunity to pull my knife out of his chest and slam it into his throat. Dwarves have thick muscles, but even a dwarf can''t breathe with a blade in his wind-pipe - especially one I was twisting in deeper and deeper. Blood spurted out of the wound, spattering onto my face, chest, and hand, but I didn''t care. The other end of the shovel slipped through the dwarf''s fingers, and he went down on one knee. I dropped the part of the shovel that was still in my left hand, dug my fingers into his hair, pulled my knife out of his throat, and then drew the blade all the way across his neck.


    He was dead before he hit the ground.


    But I wasn''t done yet.


    I turned around - not as quickly as I would have liked, thanks to my bad knee, but fast enough to avoid getting hit from behind. The two dwarves I''d knocked down had gotten back up and were approaching me with their shovels once more, although they were doing so a little more cautiously than before.


    I wondered if McAllister, or whoever had hired them, had told them that I''d be easy pickings. I might not be fully recovered physically, but I still had plenty of willpower - and an increasing desire to see these fools dead. All I''d wanted was a few moments alone with Mab to settle my thoughts and say good-bye, and they''d come along and ruined it. They were going to pay for that - more than they''d ever dreamed of.


    The two dwarves paused and looked at each other as if they were considering running, but then they sucked up their courage and both charged at me once more.


    They really should have run.


    Chapter Seven


    I limped forward to meet the dwarves, my anger overcoming everything, including the increasing pain in my knee. I managed to duck the first swing but not the second, and one of the dwarves hit me in the shoulder with his shovel. I grunted at the impact, but since I was still using my Stone magic to harden my skin, it didn''t do any great damage to me. I immediately slashed out with my knife, slicing across his chest so deeply that I could feel the blade scrape against his ribs. More blood arced through the air and spattered onto both of us.


    The dwarf screamed with pain, and the vicious wound surprised him so much that he dropped his shovel. After that, it was just a matter of me lunging forward once more, grabbing hold of his coveralls, and making several other deep cuts across his chest and stomach. When I was done, the dwarf was too busy trying to hold his guts in where they belonged to come after me again. I drew my knife out of his chest, then slammed my left foot into one of his knees, wanting him to experience the same pain I was enduring. The dwarf stumbled into the side of the coffin, smearing blood all over the sunburst rune there, and slid to the ground, screaming all the while, although his voice was already fading, right along with the rest of him. He''d be dead in another minute, two tops, which let me turn my attention to the third and final dwarf.


    He was a little smarter than his friends, because instead of hoisting his shovel over his shoulder again, he whipped it down and in front of him, holding the point out like it was a spear he wanted to skewer me with. Shovels weren''t exactly ideal for that sort of stabbing attack, but the dwarf had more than enough strength to bury the point in my chest. Part of me admired his ability to change tactics, but not enough to spare him. Mercy had never been my strong suit.


    He lunged at me with the shovel again and again, but I managed to sidestep him every time, despite the throbbing pain in my knee.


    "Stand still, you bitch!" he growled at me.


    "You first!" I snarled back.


    Around and around the coffin we went, each of us trying to stab the other with our respective weapons. Our boots kicked up dirt and grass, and we knocked over the flower arrangements and waded right through them, grinding the delicate petals into the ground. The sudden explosion of floral scents made my nose twitch, but I held back a sneeze and kept fighting.


    The dwarf came at me again with the shovel. I stumbled out of the way, and the tip of the spade ripped into the portrait of Mab, right where her necklace was, making it look like her throat had been cut. Despite the fact I was fighting for my life, I still smiled at that.


    But the situation was all too serious. This was the first real fight I''d been in since I''d battled Mab, and it was taking its toll. I just couldn''t seem to get enough air into my lungs, and the cloying scent of the flowers only made it worse, like I was breathing in petals instead of air. My legs and arms ached from the strain I''d put on them, and I felt like they were made of wet rubber flopping this way and that instead of actual muscle and bone. And, of course, my bad knee throbbed and threatened to go out from under me with every step I took.


    But I gritted my teeth and kept on swinging, slashing, and stabbing right through the pain - and that''s when the dwarf finally made a mistake.


    He came at me with the shovel again. I managed to hobble out of the way at the last second, and he rammed the point of it deep into the side of Mab''s coffin instead of into my stomach. The dwarf cursed, then paused for one precious second, trying to decide whether or not to yank the shovel out of the wood or just leave it where it was and come after me with his fists. He went for the shovel and I went for his throat, knocking us both down.


    This time he didn''t get back up.


    The dwarf''s head had snapped against the ground, momentarily stunning him, and that was all the time I needed to slice my silverstone knife across his throat and follow it up with a couple of quick stabs to his heart. He died without another sound.

 Page 7

    I lay there sprawled over the dwarf, my hand curled around the bloody knife still in his chest, breathing hard, sweat pouring down my face, my whole body shaking from the exertion of the fight and the adrenaline running through my veins. I wanted nothing more than to lie there until the tremors and exhaustion passed, but I made myself roll off the dwarf, pull the knife out of his chest, and sit up.


    The cemetery was completely quiet.


    I peered out over the still, silent landscape, my eyes going from one gravestone to the next. But no one else could be seen lurking among the monuments, and there weren''t any more snipers perched in the trees, hidden among the leafy branches, waiting to take another shot at me.


    When I realized I was alone and that the danger had passed, I let go of my Stone magic. Then, knife still in hand, I lay down on my side in the bloody grass and curled into a loose ball. I stayed that way until the air was back in my lungs and my arms and legs quit trembling.


    I could have stayed there longer, in the quiet of the cemetery, recovering from the fight, but I just didn''t have the time - not with three dead bodies dotting the grass around me. So, after a minute or two had passed, I roused myself into a sitting position, then managed to stagger to my feet even though my twisted knee still throbbed with pain.


    I looked at Mab''s casket. It was closed just like it had been before the fight, although the dwarf''s shovel was still stuck in the side of it, like an arrow in a target, scarring the black surface of the wood. But the sunburst rune on the side was still intact, the ruby in the middle just a shade brighter than the dwarves'' blood that covered my clothes and body. The golden rays and faceted sides of the gem seemed to wink at me, like eyes opening and closing, as the afternoon sun reflected off them.


    "What are you looking at?" I muttered.


    The rune didn''t respond. If anything, it just glinted a little brighter, almost like Mab was mocking me one final time.


    Phillip Kincaid


    I couldn''t believe she''d killed the three dwarves.


    Oh, I''d heard the rumors for weeks now about Gin Blanco. About how she was a powerful Ice and Stone elemental. About how she was really the assassin the Spider. And most especially about how she was the one who''d finally killed Mab.


    Jonah McAllister had whispered those things and many more into my ears while trying to insinuate himself into my good graces. McAllister shouldn''t have bothered sucking up to me. The cocky bastard had caused me far too many problems over the years while working for Mab for me to ever consider allying myself with him. Still, his information interested me enough to do my own digging into Gin Blanco. Family murdered, some time living on the Southtown streets, taken in and raised by an old man who was also rumored to be an assassin. What I found had only made me that much more curious about her.


    She''d caught my attention earlier today when she ran toward the sniper in the tree instead of finding a tombstone to hide behind like most everyone else had. Not something a normal person would do. So when it became obvious that she wanted to say her good-byes to Mab alone, I pretended to leave the cemetery, then snuck in a back way and took up a position behind the same tree the sniper had been in earlier.


    At first, nothing happened, except that Blanco said a few soft words to the coffin that I couldn''t quite hear. Then the dwarves appeared. I thought they''d merely come to dig Mab''s grave, but they crept up on Blanco and attacked while her back was turned.


    I thought about shouting a warning, showing myself, and stepping into the fight, but Blanco didn''t need my help. She moved with ease and grace, like the knife in her hand was a natural extension of her own body: Owen''s work, I''d wager. He''d always enjoyed making weapons, and what better present to give his assassin lover than a knife or two?


    It was one thing to think that Blanco was an assassin; it was another to see her handiwork for myself. She was as impressive and dangerous as McAllister claimed, striking quickly, brutally, and ruthlessly, with no wasted movements, no hesitation, and no remorse.


    I watched Blanco stab the last dwarf to death. She slumped over his body and then rolled over onto the ground, and I thought she might be injured herself. But after a few seconds she got back up on her feet. She looked down at the dwarf, her face cold and dispassionate, then slid her bloody knife up her sleeve with no more thought than most people would give to tucking spare change into their pocket. Definitely no remorse there. I liked that about her.


    "Wow," a voice whispered in my ear. "She really is an assassin. She really is the Spider."


    I looked at the giant hunkered down in the grass beside me: Antonio Mendez, my right-hand man and my friend, one of the few that I had these days.


    "It appears so," I murmured. "For once, McAllister actually told the truth about something."


    Now all that was left was to decide what I was going to do with the information. Unlike McAllister, I didn''t want Blanco dead. No, I had something else in mind for her. I''d heard some nasty rumors lately about an old enemy of mine who was coming back to Ashland, and I was thinking that Blanco was the perfect person to help me with my problem. I just needed to convince Blanco of that. But it wouldn''t take much doing. Not when she realized who my enemy really was - and what a threat that person was going to be to her and what she loved.


    I thought my enemy had shown her face here today - that mysterious woman in black. Rage had filled my whole body, and I was tempted to pull out my gun and start blasting at her. But I watched her, and I realized the mystery woman wasn''t who I''d thought she was. Oh, no. My enemy wouldn''t have been content to stay in the background like that. I didn''t know who the mystery woman was, and I didn''t really care. No, I had much bigger worries right now, like figuring out exactly when my enemy would return to Ashland - and finally come after me.


    "Now what?" Antonio whispered, breaking into my thoughts.


    I looked at Blanco, but all she did was face the coffin and lower her head to it again.


    "Come on," I said. "Let''s go and let her pay her respects in peace. I think she''s earned it."


    Antonio and I slipped away from Mab''s grave site. I wanted a few minutes to think about what I''d just seen, so I told Antonio that I''d walk to the front of the cemetery and meet him there. The giant nodded and went to get the car from where he''d parked it on the back side of the cemetery.


    I slowly wandered through the cemetery, looking at all the tombstones and the names of those buried here. I should have been planted a long time ago in some pauper''s grave, but I''d managed to survive against the odds. Something I had in common with Blanco, I supposed.


    I was so engrossed in my thoughts about the assassin that I didn''t even see Owen until I was twenty feet away from him.


    He was leaning against his car, lost in his own thoughts, but he turned at the scuff of my footsteps in the grass. Owen straightened up at the sight of me. His whole body stiffened, and the old, familiar anger blazed in his eyes. Even now, after all these years, he still hated me for what he thought I''d done. I couldn''t decide whether I despised him or pitied him for being such a fool, for not realizing that I wasn''t the villain - that I never had been. We''d been friends once - brothers, even - but that was gone now, long gone, destroyed in an instant by vicious lies and Owen''s inability to see through them.


    Still, I couldn''t stop myself from veering in his direction and halting right in front of him.


    "Owen." I nodded my head politely at him.


    "Phillip," he muttered through clenched teeth.


    "Come to pay your respects, I see."


    Owen shrugged.


    He might hate me, but we had some similar business interests, so he had to deal with and even speak to me on occasion. I went out of my way to make him interact with me as often as possible. It pleased me to see his jaw clench when I knew that all he really wanted to do was punch me. Childish of me, but it was the only revenge I could force myself to take - on Owen, anyway. It wasn''t completely his fault things had turned out like they had.


    "And Gin?" I asked. "Did she come to pay her respects as well?"


    Owen''s eyes narrowed. "What do you know about Gin?"


    This time I shrugged. "Just what all the rumors say. That she''s the assassin the Spider. That she''s the one who killed Mab. Then, of course, there was the display she put on here today. Going after that sniper wasn''t exactly a smart move, if you ask me. All she''s done is draw attention to and set herself up to be a target for the other crime bosses. I imagine almost all of them will want her dead now."


    Chapter Eight


    "What do you know about the sniper?" Owen demanded, his hands clenching into fists. "Did you hire him to kill Gin? Were you behind the attack today?"


    "Of course not," I snapped. "If I were going after Gin, I would go after her myself - not hire someone to do it for me. I''m man enough to do my own dirty work. So were you, once upon a time. I''d thought you''d remember that, given all those clever jobs we pulled together."


    Owen stared at me with suspicion, but after a moment he forced himself to relax. It seemed like he was going to believe me - about this anyway. "So if it wasn''t you, then who do you think was behind the sniper attack?"


    "McAllister, I imagine," I said. "He''s looking for work, and some of the other bosses haven''t been very . . . kind to him. Too bad he hired someone with lousy aim. Or maybe he just wanted your friend to show everyone exactly who she is and confirm all the nasty rumors he''s been spreading about her. Either way, McAllister wins."


    I hesitated. "But let''s talk about more pleasant things. How''s Eva?"


    I knew it was the wrong thing to say, but I couldn''t stop myself from asking the question. I missed Eva. I missed a lot of things - things that had unfairly been taken away from me. Things that I thought Blanco just might be able to help me get back - finally, after all these years.


    The anger flared up in Owen''s eyes again. "Don''t you dare ask me anything about Eva," he snarled. "Don''t you even think about my sister."


    I held up my hands. "I didn''t mean anything by it. I''m just one old friend asking after another."


    "Well, don''t," he snapped. "And we aren''t friends. Not anymore. Not in years now."


    "Believe me, I know. You''ve never let me forget that."


    "What does that mean?" Owen snapped again.


    I thought about telling him what I meant, about what had really happened all those years ago, but he wouldn''t listen to me. He hadn''t back then, and he wouldn''t now.


    It was his stubborn refusal to believe me that hurt the worse, despite how much time had passed.


    A beep sounded, saving me from answering. Antonio steered the car down the narrow road. The giant stopped a few feet away and beeped again.


    "Well," I drawled. "It looks like my ride is here. A pleasure seeing you again, Owen. Just like it always is."


    He glared at me. I started to head toward the car but stopped after a few steps. Even now, after what he''d done to me, part of me still cared about him - enough to turn around and let him know what was going on.


    "You should go check on your friend," I said. "She had a rough time of it at Mab''s coffin."


    "What do you mean?" Owen asked again.


    Instead of answering him, I just smiled, my blue eyes as cold as his were. "She really is something. I look forward to getting to know Gin better in the future. It''ll be here sooner than you think."


    Owen''s knuckles cracked as his fists tightened that much more. He took a step forward, but I turned my back on him, walked over to the car, and got inside. I''d just shut the passenger door behind me when Blanco hobbled into view, covered with blood. Owen glared at me a final time before hurrying over to her. I watched him put his arms around her, and I almost felt sorry for the poor bastard. He had no idea what was coming, but I did - and I was going to be ready for it.


    "Phillip?" Antonio asked.


    "Let''s go," I said. "I''m done here."


    My friend put the car in gear and drove out of the cemetery. I looked in the passenger-side mirror, getting a final glimpse of Owen and his new love before we rounded a curve and they disappeared from sight.


    I sighed. Maybe Owen wasn''t the only fool here. Maybe I was, too, for still caring about him, for still wanting to protect him from what was coming. I wondered if Gin felt the same way - and what she''d do when she learned the truth about me, Owen, and our checkered past together.


    A past that was going to come to light soon - very, very soon.


    Gin Blanco


    I left the dwarves'' bodies where they were and slid my bloody knife up my sleeve. Now that the funeral and fight were over, the black coffin seemed smaller than I remembered, its surface looking dull and tarnished.


    Still, I couldn''t help but think of the irony of the situation. The remains of my mortal enemy were in that coffin. I''d thought my battle with Mab was finally over with, but I''d just added three more bodies to the cemetery''s count - and the Fire elemental hadn''t even been buried yet. Maybe it was fitting that I''d had to fight for my life at Mab''s grave site, just like I''d been battling her these last few months.


    So I lowered my head once more, paying my last respects to the woman who had been such a big part of my life for so long.


    "Good-bye, Mab," I said. "It was a hell of a fight while it lasted."


    The sunburst rune on the side glimmered at me a final time, almost like it was blinking in agreement, before I turned away from the coffin.


    I slowly hobbled through the cemetery, wincing every time I put my weight on my left foot, and trying to come to terms with my feelings. I guess part of me had foolishly hoped with Mab dead that I could just go back to my quiet life as Gin Blanco, restaurant owner. But after today, I knew that wasn''t going to happen - not after everyone had gotten an eyeful of me at the funeral, chasing after the sniper and then getting him out of the tree. No, unless I''d missed my guess, I''d just brought myself a whole lot of unwanted attention. All that remained to be seen was how it played out, but I was willing to bet it was going to involve me fighting for my life.

 Page 8

    Over and over again.


    Finally, I made it back to the car. To my surprise, Owen wasn''t alone: Phillip Kincaid was with him. Worry spiked through me. Why would Kincaid be talking to Owen? I quickened my steps, and I started to palm one of my knives when Kincaid turned and walked away from my lover.


    Owen stared after him a moment, a troubled look on his face, but he must have spotted me out of the corner of his eye because he turned in my direction. Owen did a double take as he realized I was limping and just how bloody I was - again. He hurried over to me, meeting me in the grass.


    "What was that about?" I asked. "Why were you talking to Phillip Kincaid?"


    He shook his head. "Nothing. It doesn''t matter. Are you okay? What happened?"


    I shrugged. "Someone decided that sniper wasn''t enough. The three dwarves who were supposed to dig Mab''s grave wanted to put me in it with her. But I took care of them instead."


    I told my lover what had happened at the grave site, leaving out the words I''d murmured to the Fire elemental''s coffin. I figured those things were between Mab and me, just like they''d always been.


    Owen''s face tightened, and he looked around, almost as if he expected someone else to jump out from behind a tombstone and attack me. He was right to be cautious. I had a feeling it was just a matter of time.


    "Who do you think it was?" he asked. "Who do you think sent the dwarves after you?"


    I shrugged again. "If I had to guess, I''d say Jonah McAllister. This reeks of him."


    Owen glanced over his shoulder, like he was looking for Kincaid''s car, although the crime boss was already long gone. "That''s what Phillip said too."


    My eyebrows shot up in my face at the familiar tone in his voice. Phillip? Owen was on a first-name basis with Kincaid? When had that happened? And why didn''t I know anything about it? I started to question my lover, but Owen wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close.


    "I''m just glad you''re okay," he murmured. "That''s the most important thing."


    I hesitated, wanting to ask him how he knew Kincaid, but another wave of exhaustion washed over me, and I decided that my questions about the crime boss could wait for some other time. Besides, I was still preoccupied with almost getting dead not once, but twice today.


    I drew back from Owen. "Well, whether it was McAllister or someone else, you have to admit that it was a smart plan, hiring a sniper to lure me into a false sense of security while the real team waited for the perfect moment to take me out. What I don''t understand is why he did it here, at the funeral."


    "Why not?" Owen asked. "Like you said before, he probably guessed you''d be here. Today was probably the first chance he thought he could get to you, since we''ve all been spending so much time with you these last few weeks."


    "I know," I said. "And that all makes sense. But it''s so public. McAllister''s like a snake in the grass: you never know when he''s going to strike until you step on him. Usually, he prefers to take care of matters much more privately and quietly. But this was almost a . . . display of sorts. Like he wanted to lure me into showing everyone just how dangerous I really am."


    Owen frowned. "You mean like he wanted everyone to realize you really are the Spider?"


    I nodded. "Something like that. Think about it. Right now, there are a lot of rumors going around about me. What better way to confirm them than to have me take out a bunch of hitters at Mab''s funeral?"


    He let go of me and crossed his arms over his chest, thinking about it. "But what does that get McAllister in the end? Because you''re still alive, and his men aren''t. If anything, he just wasted the money he paid them to try to kill you."


    I shrugged again. "I''m not sure, but the smarmy bastard has to have something in mind. He always seems to have a plan, and then a couple more in the works, at least when it comes to me. Anyway, enough talk about McAllister and what he did or didn''t do: Let''s get out of here."


    Owen helped me into the passenger seat of his car, then walked around, opened the driver''s-side door, slid behind the wheel, and started the engine. I stared out the window, brooding.


    Because I had a funny feeling I knew exactly what McAllister was up to. He''d wanted me to show myself, to show my skills as the Spider, to all the underworld figures here today, and I''d obliged him. I''d seen that telltale beam of light, and I''d reacted accordingly, just like McAllister had known that I would.


    With Mab dead, there was a power vacuum in the city, and the bosses and their underlings were trying to take each other out any which way they could. And since I was the one who''d actually killed the Fire elemental, some folks would naturally assume I''d done so in order to take over her organization and put the squeeze on everyone else just like she had. My display here today had only shown the underworld figures that I was indeed a force to be reckoned with.


    Unless I missed my guess, McAllister had just set me up to be on everyone''s hit list in Ashland - and maybe even beyond. It was exceptionally clever. By luring me out into the open today, the lawyer was ensuring that everyone would do his dirty work tomorrow - or whenever they decided to start coming after me.


    Owen steered the car down the road, winding past the tombstones and other grave markers. We passed Mab''s coffin, and once more the sunburst rune on the side winked at me like an evil eye, inviting me to come share the Fire elemental''s fate.


    I couldn''t believe the bitch was dead.


    I just wondered how soon I would be too.