《Kiss of Venom (Elemental Assassin #8.5)》


 Page 1

    Chapter 1


    "You''re an idiot."


    I glanced over at my best friend, Phillip Kincaid. "Really? I''m an idiot? Because I''d say it takes one to know one."


    Phillip snorted and took another sip of his Scotch. He studied me over the rim of his glass, his bright blue gaze calmly staring past the blank mask of my face to see the real man lurking underneath. Funny, how well he could still read me, even though we''d been estranged for years and had only recently reconnected. After a moment, he grinned and waggled his eyebrows at me.


    I sighed, knowing that he''d keep grinning like a fool until I asked him the inevitable question. "And why, exactly, am I an idiot?"


    "Because we''ve been here an hour already, and you haven''t so much as made eye contact with a single woman." Phillip used his drink to gesture out at the scene before us. "And there are plenty of them to choose from, Owen. Blondes, brunettes, even a few redheads. Humans, vampires, giants, dwarves, elementals. Whatever floats your boat."


    Phillip was right. There were plenty of women inside Northern Aggression, Ashland''s most extravagant nightclub. We were sitting in a booth in the back, giving us a clear view of the rest of the club. Men and women of all shapes, sizes, and ages happily grooved to a rocking beat out on the dance floor, while others clustered two and three deep around the elemental Ice bar along the wall, slugging down drinks and already looking forward to the next round. Smoke spiraled up into the air as folks inhaled cigarettes, cigars, and other things that weren''t exactly legal. The thick gray clouds clung like a layer of fog to the red crushed-velvet drapes that covered the walls.


    Northern Aggression was the sort of place where anything went, either back in the more private VIP rooms or out here in plain view. Some of the folks who weren''t dancing, drinking, or smoking were engaged in more . . . passionate pursuits. A couple kissed deeply at a table off to my right, their bodies melded together, their hands roaming over each other as though the rest of the world didn''t exist. Meanwhile, the booth behind me rocked back and forth in time to the athletic acrobatics of the couple there, although the thumping music mostly drowned out their hoarse cries of pleasure.


    A particularly vigorous rocking of the booth made me sigh, lean forward, and take a final swig of my gin and tonic, finishing off the drink. Phillip had dragged me out to the club tonight to celebrate his recovery from being shot in the chest during a robbery gone wrong at the Briartop art museum a couple of weeks ago. Or maybe it was a robbery gone right, considering that Clementine Barker and most of her gang of giants had ended up dead in the end. But thinking about that night conjured up so many memories for me, especially of a beautiful woman in a blood-red dress -


    "Hi, sugar," a voice said loudly enough to be heard over the music.


    Maybe it was the slightly mocking way that she drawled out sugar, but the sound of her voice made my head snap up, thinking that she was here tonight, hoping that she was -


    But it wasn''t her. Instead, a pretty woman with tan skin, hazel eyes, and black hair that was spiked up almost like a mohawk stood in front of our booth. For a moment, I thought that she''d come over to talk to Phillip, since he''d been actively eyeing the ladies ever since we''d arrived, but then I realized that she was holding a round tray. The gold heart-and-arrow pendant that glimmered in the hollow of her throat marked her as more than just a waitress, though. The rune was Roslyn Phillips''s symbol for her luxe nightclub - and all the hookers who worked here.


    Several men and woman wearing the same necklace circulated around the dance floor and through the crowds at the bar, their gold runes flashing like neon signs underneath the club''s black lights, letting everyone know that they were open for business. All of them were buff, beautiful, and baring a lot of skin, leaving little to the imagination. Most of them were vampires, and all of them would do whatever you wanted them to - for the right price.


    The waitress cocked a hip to one side, her red-leather miniskirt riding up even higher on her toned thighs. "Hi there. My name''s Sierra. Can I get you boys another round?"


    Phillip gave her a slow, syrupy smile. "Sugar, you can get me just about anything that you like."


    She giggled at that, having probably heard the same lame line from at least a dozen other men already tonight. She grinned at him, revealing a pair of small, pearl-white fangs. Phillip gave her a saucy wink, which made her giggle a bit more.


    Then Sierra turned her seductive smile to me. "What about you, handsome? See anything on the menu that you like? Anything at all?" She drawled out the word anything, then licked her crimson lips, letting me know that she was on the menu too, as if that rune around her neck hadn''t already clued me in to that fact.


    Phillip smirked and waggled his eyebrows at me again, but I shook my head.


    "Just another drink for me, please," I said, pushing my empty glass toward her.


    She pouted a little, but she scooped up our glasses and sashayed away. Phillip leaned out of the booth and watched her go, admiring the view.


    "That was a wasted opportunity, if you ask me," he said. "She was cute."


    Sierra was cute, but she wasn''t my type - because she didn''t have clear gray eyes that could look right through you or a smile that could light up a room with just the barest curve of her lips. I didn''t bother telling Phillip all that, though. He''d just say that I was being melancholy and maudlin, mooning over something that I couldn''t have, something that I''d been stupid enough to throw away, something that I hadn''t truly appreciated until it was gone.


    Phillip took my lack of response as a sign to keep right on talking. "C''mon, Owen," he murmured, his gaze zooming over to a gorgeous redhead enthusiastically swiveling her hips - along with everything else - out on the dance floor. "We came here tonight to have some fun. Or have you forgotten?"


    With his slicked-back blond ponytail, intense blue eyes, and strong, muscled body, Phillip attracted more than his share of admiring glances, especially given the sharp white Fiona Fine designer suit that he was sporting tonight. With my black hair, violet eyes, and far more subdued navy suit, I was the muted dark to his blazing light. I wasn''t as pretty as Phillip, especially given my crooked nose and the scar on my chin from a long-ago fight, but I wasn''t invisible either. I got my share of interested looks too. I just didn''t feel like returning any of them. Yep, Owen Grayson was officially on wingman duty tonight.


    "Oh, no," I replied in a mild voice. "I haven''t forgotten anything. But it looks like you have - all about Eva."


    Phillip quit ogling the redhead long enough to narrow his eyes at me. "What do you mean by that?"


    "C''mon, Phillip. I might be an idiot, but I''m not blind," I said, mocking him with his own words. "I see the way the two of you look at each other."


    He grimaced. "And I can see that you''re not too happy about it. So I thought that I wouldn''t bring it up tonight. Or any night, for that matter."


    This time I waggled my eyebrows at him. "My baby sister being not so secretly in love with one of Ashland''s most ruthless crime bosses. What''s not to like?"


    Phillip''s grimace deepened because every word I said was true. Eva was crazy about him, and Phillip felt the same way about her, despite the fact that she was still in college and he, owner of the illustrious Delta Queen riverboat casino, wasn''t exactly one of the nicest guys in town. Then again, nice guys only got one thing in Ashland: dead.


    Still, I couldn''t judge Phillip, at least not for his profession, since I''d done plenty of bad things over the years myself. Not to mention the fact that I''d spent the last several months dating an assassin.


    I let out a breath. "Look, I''m sorry. I didn''t mean that. Not really. I want Eva to be happy, and you too. It''s just . . ."


    "You think that I''m too old for her," Phillip finished. "And that what I do and who I am are too dangerous for her to be around. And you would be absolutely correct on all counts."


    Eva had recently turned twenty, while Phillip, a childhood friend of ours, was about ten years older. He was right. I didn''t like the age gap, but I was more concerned about Eva becoming a target for all of Phillip''s enemies who might use her to hurt him.


    Instead of agreeing with him, though, I shrugged, not sure what to say that wouldn''t make things worse. Something that was becoming more and more of a problem lately. My mouth and the words that erupted out of it kept getting me in trouble with the people I cared about.


    Sierra returned with our drinks, keeping me from digging myself in any deeper. Phillip slugged down his Scotch in one quick swallow, put his empty glass back on her tray, and told her to bring him another one. I pushed my gin off to one side of the table, having lost my thirst for it.


    We didn''t speak, and the pulsing music did nothing to break the sudden awkwardness between us. It was only after Sierra brought him another drink that Phillip finally looked at me again.


    "Don''t worry," he said. "I''m not going to lay a hand on Eva."


    "I know - I know you wouldn''t do something like that."


    I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth. Because I had misjudged Phillip in the past. Hated him, reviled him, thought him to be the worst sort of scum imaginable and actively wished him dead - for years. And I''d lost so much because of it.


    Because of Salina Dubois and all of her damn lies.


    Doubt flickered in Phillip''s eyes, and I knew he was wondering whether I really meant what I''d said. His suspicion was well earned, and it hurt as much as if a giant had punched me in the stomach. Every time I thought that I was finally moving past what Salina had done to me and my loved ones, something like this came up - some small, stupid, thoughtless thing that I said or did that brought up all of the past anguish, anger, and accusations. But I had no one to blame but myself. I was the one who had inflicted Salina on everyone simply by blindly loving and trusting her.


    But before I could reassure Phillip once again that I knew that he would never hurt Eva, he frowned and looked toward the front of the club.


    "Well, well, well," he said, letting out a low whistle of appreciation. "Look who else came out for a little fun tonight."


    I glanced in that direction and immediately froze.


    She was on the tall side and slim, with a walk that was somehow simple and seductive at the same time. Unlike most of the other women, who were wearing as little as they could get away with, she wore jeans, low-heeled black boots, and a black leather jacket over a scarlet tank top, all the better to conceal the knives she carried. She almost always wore dark colors, but they suited her.


    She wasn''t the most beautiful woman in the club, but there was something about her that caught your eye and made you keep watching her. Maybe it was the small, amused smile that always seemed ready to play across her lips or her long, confident strides or the cold, clear light that burned in her gray eyes.


    Whispers sprang up in her wake as she moved through the club, but she ignored them. She''d gotten good at that these past few months. She''d had to. Still, some of the murmurs drifted over to me, despite the music.


    "Is that her?"


    "Oh, yeah, that''s her, all right."


    "Better steer clear, man. Or she''ll carve you to pieces."


    Of course, the music ended just in time for everyone in the club to hear that last statement, and the woman in question paused to stare at the dwarf who''d said it. His mouth gaped open, and he shrank back, trying to disappear into the crowd. She let him. Her eyes flicked around, calmly going from one face to another, but suddenly, everyone was very interested in heading back out onto the dance floor or getting a drink from the bar. After a moment, she walked on.


    Gin Blanco. The assassin the Spider. The woman I loved - the one I''d betrayed.


    Chapter 2


    Gin strode over to the elemental Ice bar. A blond woman walked beside her - Bria, her younger sister - but I was completely focused on Gin.


    As if by magic, as soon as she approached, two seats opened up at the end of the packed bar. But it wasn''t any kind of elemental power at work. It was just Gin walking into a room and people hurrying to do whatever they thought would please her - and keep them from getting sliced open with one of her silverstone knives.


    One of the few perks of having a badass reputation like the Spider''s. One that Gin never seemed to pay much attention to, which was one of the many things that I loved about her. With her Ice and Stone magic, Gin was one of the most powerful elementals in Ashland, and she could have easily stepped up and taken the late Mab Monroe''s place as the queen of the underworld. But she hadn''t. All Gin wanted was to be left alone to live a nice, quiet life.


    For a while, I''d been part of that nice, quiet life. Well, as nice and quiet as Gin''s life ever got, which wasn''t very, given all the bad guys who wanted her dead. Even now, after everything that had happened between us, I still wanted to be part of that life, her life, even though I didn''t deserve it anymore - or most especially her.


    Gin sat down on one stool, and her sister plopped down on the other one, just as cool and confident as could be. Detective Bria Coolidge was an Ice elemental and powerful in her own right.


    Gin leaned forward and said something to the bartender. For a moment, the pale blue light burning in the man''s eyes flickered as he lost his hold on his Ice magic. He was nervous, but he shouldn''t be. Gin wouldn''t kill him, unless he tried to kill her first. And if he did, well, it would be the last thing that he ever did.


    Gin, the Spider, didn''t have a ruthless reputation for nothing.


    Even though there had to be at least two dozen people waiting for their drinks, the bartender ignored everyone else and quickly made theirs. He slid a mojito over to Bria, then poured some clear liquid over ice, adorned it with a fat wedge of lime, placed the glass on a white napkin, and carefully handed the whole thing to Gin before bowing his head and backing away from her.

 Page 2

    Gin took a sip. She gave the bartender an approving nod. A big, goofy grin spread across his face. After a moment, one of the waitresses nudged the bartender, breaking Gin''s spell on him, and he hurried to catch up with the rest of the orders. But he kept right on grinning and sneaking glances at Gin as he started fixing drinks for the next customers.


    "Please tell me that she''s drinking something other than gin," Phillip murmured.


    I smiled. "Probably not. She likes the irony."


    His eyes dropped to the glass of gin on the table, the one that I''d ordered, the same thing that I''d been drinking all night long. "Apparently, someone else does too."


    I kept my face blank, but I pushed the glass a little farther away.


    More murmurs rippled through the club, and once again the crowd parted, this time in appreciation of the beauty of the woman walking through their midst. Black hair, flawless features, toffee-colored eyes and skin. Her body would have made any model envious, not to mention the graceful way that she moved. She wore a dark green pantsuit, the sort you''d expect to find in any corporate office, but the fabric did little to disguise her lush curves. I knew her too. Roslyn Phillips, the owner of the club and one of Gin''s friends.


    Roslyn made her way over to the bar. She, Gin, and Bria all hugged, then exchanged a few quick pleasantries before Roslyn moved off into the crowd to greet her other customers and make sure that everyone had what they needed.


    Gin swiveled around on her stool, her drink still in her hand. Bria did the same, and they both looked out over the club. Eyes wary, faces flat, shoulders tense. Looking for any danger, trouble, or problems that might be heading their way. After a couple of minutes, Bria seemed satisfied that they were in the clear. She started sipping her drink and talking to her sister, but Gin kept scanning and scanning the club, from the Ice bar to the dance floor to the booths in the back. On alert, the way she had to be simply to stay alive these days.


    Finally, her gaze met mine.


    Her eyes narrowed the tiniest bit, as though she were surprised to see me here, but she kept the rest of her features smooth and blank. Gin had the best poker face I''d ever seen. She rarely gave away anything she was feeling - except for the terrible hurt that I''d caused her. Even now, it flared in her eyes, shimmering with a strong, accusing light. Or maybe that was just my own guilt that I saw reflected in her gaze.


    We stared at each other for the better part of a minute before I finally smiled, lifted my hand, and waved at her, as though we were two casual friends who''d spotted each other across a crowded room instead of . . . well, I didn''t know what we were now. Estranged lovers sounded so formal, so doom-and-gloom, but I supposed that was the closest thing to the truth.


    After a moment, Gin smiled and waved back, matching my friendly fa?ade gesture for gesture. Bria turned her head to see whom she was waving at, and her mouth puckered with displeasure. Bria didn''t like me much these days, but I couldn''t blame her for that after the way I''d treated Gin.


    Not after the horrible way I''d hurt her time and time again.


    "You should go over there," Phillip said. "Offer to buy her a drink. Another gin for Gin, as it were." He snickered.


    "Look at you," I deadpanned. "Being all clever with your words."


    "You''re the one who said that she liked irony."


    I grinned at him. "She also likes sticking her knives into people who annoy her, something that you seem to excel at."


    Phillip shuddered. "Trust me, I remember. I thought she was going to slice me open that night in my office on the Delta Queen."


    That had been back at the beginning of this whole sordid story, when Salina had first returned to Ashland and had tried to kill Phillip before Gin stopped her. Back when I''d still wrongly thought that Phillip had tried to rape Salina, my ex-fiancee, when we were younger. But really, all Phillip had been doing was protecting Eva from being cruelly tortured by Salina''s water magic. I''d walked in on Phillip fighting with Salina and stupidly believed her claims, and I''d almost beaten him to death as a result. Even now, weeks after Salina''s death, the thought of how wrong I''d been about her made my stomach twist with guilt and self-loathing.


    I don''t know why, but Phillip had forgiven me, even though I didn''t deserve it or his friendship. My gaze stayed steady on Gin. There were a lot of things that I didn''t deserve now.


    Gin saluted me with her drink again, almost as if she were saying good-bye. I did the same, and then she turned and started talking to Bria, focusing on her sister instead of me. But I kept watching her. I couldn''t take my eyes off her - and neither could the other men in the club.


    Over the next half hour, a couple of guys approached Gin, sidling up to her with smarmy smiles and offering to buy her a drink. But she ignored them all and kept slowly sipping her own gin. The men quickly turned their attention to Bria, but she sent them away too, since Bria was involved with Finnegan Lane, Gin''s foster brother.


    But there was one guy who was more persistent than all the others. He was a giant, almost seven feet tall, with a lean, wiry body. His baby-blue T-shirt was so tight it looked like it would rip down the center if he drew in too deep a breath. His dirty-blond hair was spiked up over his forehead, then smoothed back and down over the rest of his skull. His tan skin made his pale eyes seem that much lighter, and his white teeth gleamed in the semidarkness of the club. Most women would have thought him attractive. In fact, I saw more than one give him an appraising look. I snorted. Pretty boy. Probably couldn''t take a punch in the face for fear of ruining his perfect smile.


    He leaned down and said something to Gin. Instead of shooing him away, she actually smiled up at him, as though he''d amused her. He gestured at the dance floor. My gut twisted and my hand flattened out against the tabletop. After a moment, Gin shook her head.


    He said something else and gestured at the dance floor again, obviously thinking that he could win her over if only he tried hard enough. My fingers started tapping out a quick pattern, but Gin shook her head again.


    He kept talking, obviously not wanting to take no for an answer. My fingers stilled, then curled into a tight fist.


    Apparently, Gin no longer found him amusing. She gave him a cold, flat look and started to say something, but Bria pulled her gold detective''s badge off her belt and flashed it at the guy. That was finally enough to get him to back off. He gave them both a sour look before storming off into the crowd.


    "Somebody should punch that jackass in the face for bothering her," I muttered.


    Phillip chuckled. "You know what? I think that jealousy suits you."


    I turned my glare to him. "Maybe I should punch you in the face too."


    He kept right on laughing.


    Apparently, every other man in the club saw the giant strike out with Gin and decided to try his luck, because it was like the proverbial floodgates opened. One after another, the preening peacocks - emphasis on cocks - separated themselves from the flock, walked over, and started hitting on her. Soon I couldn''t even see Gin through the cluster of the men.


    Still, I kept shooting glances in that direction. I couldn''t help myself, just like I hadn''t been able to stop staring at Gin at the Briartop museum when I''d first noticed her in the rotunda. Gin probably thought that I''d come over to her because I''d mistaken her for someone else, but I could never do that. I''d know her anywhere. She''d looked so beautiful that night, her blood-red gown rippling out around her, her dark brown hair loose and slightly wavy, the skin of her arms and shoulders looking as smooth and flawless as marble.


    But Gin had never looked so wonderful as at the moment she''d burst into the museum''s vault area and I''d realized she was still alive, ending the utter agony of thinking she had been murdered by Clementine and her men. Gin had been dirty, sweaty, and covered with giants'' blood, but I hadn''t cared. I''d grabbed her and kissed her, and I''d wanted to keep on kissing her forever -


    The music stopped again for a moment, and the crowd quieted down enough for me to hear a soft, low laugh, Gin''s laugh. Something else that I would have known anywhere. She actually found one of the peacocks funny. I couldn''t see who it was, but she laughed again. What was he? A comedian?


    Her laugh drifted over to me a third time, and I grabbed my glass and threw back the gin. But the slow, steady burn of the liquor in the pit of my stomach couldn''t ease the sharp, stinging ache in my chest. Because that should have been me at the bar with her. I should have been the one making her laugh tonight. Not some random stranger.


    I would have been that man, if not for my own stupidity. And that''s what hurt and angered me more than anything else.


    Gin laughed yet again, the sound punching into my gut. And I knew that I had to get out of here before I did something extremely stupid, like marching over to the bar and punching out every single guy who was ogling her.


    "I need some air," I growled.


    Phillip gave me an amused look. "Sure you do."


    I grimaced, slid out of the booth, and walked away.


    Chapter 3


    It was after ten now, and Northern Aggression was kicking into high gear. The dance floor was so packed that I couldn''t get to the other side without using blunt force. With the mood I was in, I wouldn''t have minded shoving a few dancers out of my way. Actually, I wouldn''t have minded being in the middle of a good, old-fashioned, knock-down, drag-out bar brawl, but there was no reason to take out my anger and frustration on folks who were just here to have a good time. So instead of going outside, I ended up retreating to the only other somewhat quiet haven in the club: the men''s room.


    Like everything else at Northern Aggression, the men''s room was done in lavish style. The floor in the outer room was made of the same springy bamboo as the rest of the club, and several small red-velvet couches crouched in the wide space. Roslyn''s heart-and-arrow rune was embroidered in gold thread on each of the throw pillows propped up on the thick cushions.


    I thought the little couches were an odd touch, since I''d never seen a man actually sit on any of them. But, apparently, they were great spots to sleep off hangovers. A dwarf was snoring up a storm on the couch in the corner right now. Since he was a few inches shy of five feet, he actually fit on the piece of furniture, although one of his legs was dangling off the side. It wouldn''t be too long before gravity took over and he slid off the slick velvet and ended up facedown on the floor, snoring into the wood.


    I pushed through the inner door and into the actual bathroom. Two vampires were whispering to each other in front of the paper-towel dispenser. They stopped and gave me suspicious looks as I entered. I''d probably interrupted some sort of hush-hush deal for drugs, blood, sex, or all three. Since it looked like they wanted their privacy, I moved past them and entered the farthest stall. A few seconds later, the whispers resumed, and the door creaked open and then shut as the vamps left. Apparently, they''d concluded their business and gone on their way. Bully for them. Somebody here should have a good time tonight.


    I stood in the stall and stared at the door in front of me. Maybe it was the way the light glinted off the metal, but suddenly, I was thinking back to another place, another time. The lawn of an elegant estate and the layer of glittering elemental Ice that covered everything, including the broken, frozen fountains planted in the grass . . .


    Salina lying on the Ice, stretching out her hand, begging me to help her, to save her. A crazy light flashing in her eyes, one that I''d somehow never seen before. My sharp, sick, horrified realization that the crazy light had been there all along and that everyone else had seen it but me.


    Gin staring solemnly at me, knowing what had to be done now and that I couldn''t do it. Phillip and Gin''s foster brother, Finn, clamping their hands on my arms, holding me back while I made a halfhearted effort to break loose, and all of us knowing that I didn''t really want to be free.


    Gin leaning down and cutting Salina''s throat. And then the sick, sick relief that I wasn''t the one to actually kill her. But everything inside me still turning, twisting, and tearing apart at what had happened, at all that my friends, my family, had suffered because of Salina - because of my blind faith in her.


    Turning away from Gin so she wouldn''t see my horror, my guilt, my complete and utter shame, at everything that had happened . . .


    I shook my head, and the door was simply a door, not some weird window into the not-too-distant past. But once again, anger surged through me, the way it had so many times over the past several weeks. Why did every single thing have to remind me of that night? Of how I''d failed the people I loved? Eva had suffered so much because of Salina. So had Phillip, Gin, and Cooper Stills, the dwarven Air elemental who''d been my blacksmith mentor. And yet at the end, when it had to be done, when it had really mattered, I hadn''t been able to kill Salina. I''d seen her lying on the Ice, and I''d thought of the girl she''d once been, the one who''d lost her father so horribly, the one I''d loved so much - who had really been a monster the whole time.


    I knew everything that Salina had done - abused Eva, lied about Phillip, attacked Cooper, tried to drown Gin - but I still hadn''t wanted to be the cause of her death. I''d wanted her just to . . . disappear, as if that would magically take all of the horror and heartache along with her.


    But instead, I''d made everything that much worse by not killing Salina myself, by not trying to set right the wrongs that I''d unwittingly inflicted upon them.


    And even though Salina was dead now, I still couldn''t escape the legacy of what she''d done. Cooper looked at me with sad, knowing, pitying eyes. Phillip measured everything that I said, no matter how innocent or unimportant, as though he didn''t really believe any of my words. Eva glared at me with such disgust sometimes that it took my breath away.

 Page 3

    And then there was Gin, whom I''d wounded the worst. Because she''d saved us all from Salina''s twisted revenge scheme, and I''d turned my back on her like a fool. I''d lashed out at Gin, when I should have been blaming myself for not protecting her and the others from Salina in the first place.


    But the really sad thing, the really pathetic thing, the truly unforgivable thing, was that I''d known exactly what kind of stupid ass I was being that night at the Dubois estate. I''d known it the day I''d gone to see Gin at the Pork Pit and told her that I needed some time to think about things. And again when we''d talked in the moonlit gardens outside the Briartop museum, and she''d finally let me see how sick, weary, and hurt she was because of how I''d reacted to Salina''s death. Gin had risked her life to rescue me at Salina''s estate and then again at Briartop, and all I had done was wound her time and time again.


    Gin didn''t like folks to know it, and she especially didn''t like them to see it, but she would do anything for the people she loved, including taking their emotional garbage. And I''d heaped a ton of it onto her shoulders instead of manning up and dealing with things myself - instead of killing Salina myself.


    I loved Gin, but I''d known that she had some serious trust issues after Detective Donovan Caine had so coldly rejected her for being an assassin. But I''d seen her, and I''d wanted her, so I''d pursued her. And as I got to know Gin, as I fell in love with her, I had vowed to myself that I would never treat her as thoughtlessly as Donovan had. I would never judge or reject her for doing what she thought was right, for using her skills as the Spider to protect others.


    But I''d done it all anyway. I loved Gin, but I''d still hurt her, and I didn''t know if I could ever forgive myself for that.


    Maybe Gin had made the wrong choice in Blue Marsh. Maybe she should have chosen Donovan instead of me. Maybe she should go home with one of the peacocks tonight and forget I ever existed.


    Phillip was right. I was a fucking idiot. I''d had Gin''s love, and I had been stupid enough to throw it away. It was all my fault, and I didn''t know how to fix it. I didn''t know how to fix myself, much less us.


    I rubbed my hands over my face, trying to shake off the guilt. But that didn''t work, it never worked, so I growled and punched the metal. I put a bit of magic behind the blow, leaving a fist-shaped dent in the door. I had an elemental talent for metal, could bend it and shape it any way that I wanted to. Right now, I felt like ripping the door off its hinges and sending wave after wave of my magic into it until the metal was crumpled up like a smushed soda can between my fingers -


    The bathroom door banged open, and the heavy tread of footsteps sounded.


    "Did you see that bitch brush me off?" a low voice growled. "I used all of my best lines on her, and she looked at me like I was some sort of gnat that was bothering her."


    "Calm down, Stuart," another voice chimed in. "We knew that the direct approach might not work."


    "I can have any woman in this club that I want, and she turns me down? Oh, hell, no," Stuart snarled. "If we hadn''t been hired to kill her already, I would do it myself just because. She wouldn''t think she was so high and mighty when my hands were wrapped around her throat."


    Hired to kill her? I had a sinking feeling that I knew exactly who they were talking about: Gin.


    Now that everyone in the underworld knew - or at least suspected - that she was the assassin the Spider, practically every crime boss in the city had tried to take Gin out and prove that they had the stones to be the new head of the Ashland crime scene. Of course, no one had succeeded yet, but that didn''t keep them from trying . . . and trying . . . and trying. . . .


    "So the Spider brushed you off," the second man said in a much calmer and colder voice. "It happens. She''s a woman, just like any other. Who knows what they''re really thinking? Most of them don''t even know, and I, for one, don''t care. But like you said, we were hired to kill her. Nothing else. So we''ll just watch and wait until we see a chance to get her alone."


    Well, not if I could help it. I''d already hurt Gin so much. I wasn''t about to let these two losers ruin her night. My hand curled into a fist again, but this time, I didn''t want to hit the door - I wanted to hit them.


    But instead of giving in to my anger, I peered through the crack between the stall door and the frame to get a look at Gin''s would-be attackers. One was the giant in the blue T-shirt whom I''d noticed hitting on her earlier. He took a comb out of his back pocket and ran it through his hair, making sure that every blond strand was greased back into place. Then he stared into the mirror and smiled, before cocking his head to the side and arching first one eyebrow, then the other, in a suggestive manner at his own reflection, as if he were trying to seduce himself. Did that lame come-hither look ever actually work for him? Arrogant, egotistical pretty boy. I was going to enjoy knocking his perfect teeth out of his mouth.


    The other guy was a dwarf, but his chest and shoulders were even wider and more muscled than the giant''s. He wore a black button-up shirt, dark brown khakis, and black boots. The dwarf''s black hair was shaved close to his skull, more like stubble than anything else. A smile stretched across his mouth as he watched the giant groom himself. But there was something hollow in the dwarf''s expression, and his lips were firmly curved up, like his smile had been painted onto his face. His light brown eyes were even colder and emptier than his smile. The giant might be a loudmouthed hothead, but the dwarf - the dwarf was the real threat.


    "Fine, Richie," the giant, Stuart, snapped. He finished fixing his hair and slid his comb into his back pocket. "We''ll wait until the time is right to make our move. But that bitch is mine. You got it?"


    "Sure," Richie replied. "No problem. Better you get her blood on your clothes anyway."


    Stuart frowned and looked down at his blue T-shirt, then over at Richie, as if he wasn''t sure whether the dwarf was serious. "Do you think that I should go change real quick? I have some extra clothes in the car. This is my lucky T-shirt. Nobody says no to me in this T-shirt. It brings out the color of my eyes. All the ladies tell me so."


    Stuart gave himself another sexy smirk in the mirror. Richie rolled his eyes. I would too, if I was saddled with an arrogant schmuck like that.


    "If you''re done thinking about how cute you are, we have work to do," Richie finally growled. "So let''s get on with it."


    Stuart opened his mouth, but he took one look at the other man''s narrowed eyes and swallowed whatever he''d been about to say. "Sure, Richie. No problem. I''m done. After you."


    The giant held out his hand in a placating gesture. Richie glared at him a second longer before opening the door and stepping out of the bathroom. Stuart gave himself one more appraising glance in the mirror before hurrying after the other man.


    I waited a few seconds to make sure that they weren''t coming back, then opened the stall door and followed them.


    Chapter 4


    Back out in the main part of the club, the two men ambled over to one of the tables close to the dance floor and turned their chairs so that they could see Gin, still sitting with Bria at the Ice bar.


    I kept one eye on them as I hurried back over to Phillip''s and my booth. While I''d been gone, our waitress had returned and was now leaning over with her elbows propped on the table, giving Phillip a bird''s-eye view of all she had to offer, including the plump assets that were practically spilling out of the top of her black leather bustier.


    I stepped up beside Sierra, but neither one of them even glanced in my direction. So I reached into my back pocket, pulled out my wallet, and put a hundred on the table.


    "Sorry, but my friend and I have to go. That should cover our drinks."


    "Go?" Phillip murmured, his eyes still fixed on Sierra''s cleavage. "Where are we going?"


    "You''ll see. Now, come on."


    Phillip kept ogling the waitress, so I reached down, grabbed his jacket sleeve, and pulled him onto his feet. I didn''t have Phillip''s natural strength, since he probably had some giant and dwarven blood in his veins, but I wasn''t a lightweight either. In fact, ever since I''d broken up with Gin, I''d spent more time working in my forge than ever before, and I''d grown stronger, physically, at least, as I tried to clear my head and figure out some way to make things right between Gin and me. It hadn''t worked, though. Nothing had.


    Sierra realized that I was serious about leaving and taking Phillip with me. She smoothly palmed the hundred, flashed me a smile, and sashayed away, already on to the next table to ply her wares.


    "Hey!" Phillip said, jerking away from me and smoothing down his jacket. "You could have just asked nicely. There''s no need to get physical."


    I arched an eyebrow at him. "This from a man who enjoys personally throwing people off his riverboat instead of letting his giant guards do it for him?"


    Phillip grinned. "Do you not know how much fun that is? All you have to do is flip them over the side of the railing, listen to them scream, then wait for the splash. A few manage to go in feet first, but most of them do some sort of awkward, flailing belly flop, which only makes it that much more painful and the splash that much bigger. Splat. You can hear the sound all the way up to the top deck. I''m telling you, it''s awesome to watch. Besides, I don''t throw everybody off the riverboat. That would be bad for business. I only do it when people cheat. Or drink too much. Or fight with the staff. Or act like idiots. Or annoy me. Or - "


    He would have kept ticking off more supposed infractions on his fingers if I hadn''t shaken my head.


    "Follow me," I said.


    I started to walk away, but Phillip didn''t move. Instead, he gave me a pointed look.


    "What are you?" I growled. "Twelve?"


    He responded by crossing his arms over his chest and rocking back on his heels.


    I sighed, remembering exactly how stubborn he could be. "Fine. Please. Please follow me, your royal highness."


    After a moment, Phillip grinned and uncrossed his arms. "See? Asking nicely doesn''t hurt so much, now, does it? And I kind of like that whole royal highness thing. Yeah, I could definitely get used to you calling me that."


    I snorted and walked away, but I must have asked him nicely enough, because Phillip trailed along beside me as best he could, given the crowd.


    I scanned the crush of people, looking for Roslyn. I figured that since I was going to have a talk - and likely something much more violent - with two of her customers, I should give her a heads-up first. It was the polite thing to do. Besides, she''d want to know about the threat to Gin too, since the two of them were such close friends.


    I didn''t see Roslyn, but I spotted someone else I knew, a muscular giant with ebony skin and a shaved head that gleamed underneath the flashing lights. Xavier, the club''s head bouncer and Roslyn''s significant other. Suddenly, I had an idea of how to take care of Stuart and Richie with no one, especially Gin, being the wiser.


    I veered in Xavier''s direction. It took me a few minutes to sidestep through the crowd over to where he was standing by the entrance to the VIP section, but I made it, even if Phillip didn''t.


    My friend had gotten happily waylaid on the dance floor and was enthusiastically bumping and grinding his way past first one woman, then another. He''d get here eventually, though. I could always count on Phillip to be there for me when I really needed him, despite how horribly I''d failed him all those years ago by believing Salina over him. But I pushed that thought away. Now wasn''t the time to think about what a mess I''d made of everything. Now was the time to act and to make sure that Gin stayed safe for the rest of the night.


    "Xavier, what''s up?" I asked.


    He grinned, and we shook hands. Xavier had a firm, strong grip, even for a giant.


    "Not much," he drawled, scanning the crowd for any signs of trouble. "Just another night of dancing, drinking, and debauchery."


    Once he was satisfied that no one was going to kick up an immediate ruckus, he looked at me. He hesitated, his dark eyes meeting mine. "You know that Gin''s here tonight, right?"


    "Yeah. I saw her."


    He didn''t say anything else, and neither did I. Unlike Phillip, Xavier knew when not to push something.


    "Is there something that I can do for you, Owen?" Xavier asked.


    I jerked my head toward the tables that ringed the dance floor. "See that giant and dwarf sitting together?"


    Stuart and Richie were at the same table as before, a couple of beers in front of them now. Richie still had his eyes fixed on Gin, watching her laugh and talk with Bria at the bar. Every once in a while, he would take a sip of his beer, and then he''d go right back to staring at Gin. That left Stuart free to ogle all of the waitresses as they walked by. He even gave a couple of them winks, as if he wasn''t planning to coldly strangle a woman to death the second she left the club. A real charmer, that guy.


    "What about them?" Xavier asked.


    "Do you know them?"


    He shrugged his massive shoulders. "I haven''t seen the dwarf before, but Stuart''s a regular. He''s always coming in and sweet-talking every pretty thing who gets within spitting distance of him. He thinks he''s more of a player than he really is, though, and when his game doesn''t work on a lady, he tends to take it personally. He''s been in his share of fights, with men and women alike, and I''ve warned him about harassing folks."


    "Can you give me ten minutes, then throw them both out of the club?"


    "Sure," Xavier said, cracking his knuckles. "I told Stuart not to show his face here for at least a month. That was three days ago. I was planning to let him order a couple more beers, so Roslyn could make a little money off him, before I showed him the door. Any particular reason you''ve taken a dislike to those guys?"

 Page 4

    "I heard them talking in the bathroom. They''re here for Gin."


    Xavier''s face tightened, and he nodded. In addition to working as a bouncer, Xavier was Bria''s partner on the police force. He knew all about Gin''s troubles with the underworld bosses.


    "Consider it done," Xavier growled. "You want me to come outside and help you with them?"


    "Nah," I said. "That''s what Phillip is for."


    Xavier looked past me and grinned. "Have you told him that?"


    I glanced over my shoulder. Phillip had apparently given up trying to get free of the dance floor. He was now engaged in a very close, very slow, very suggestive dance with not one but two women. He whirled first one way, then another, trying to dazzle them both at the same time with his slick moves and cheesy smile.


    "He''s going to throw out his back, jerking around like that," I muttered.


    Xavier chuckled. "Oh, I don''t know. I think that Phillip could give Finn a run for his money when it comes to hamming it up with the ladies."


    I sighed and shook my head. "Better make that fifteen minutes."


    Xavier chuckled again.


    I wormed my way through the crowd, trying to get to Phillip, but I kept getting cut off as people gyrated right into the middle of my path. I''d been on the dance floor for two minutes and hadn''t gone more than twenty feet. And Phillip, of course, was now smack dab in the center.


    I''d just taken another step forward when a hand touched my shoulder and sidled higher, caressing my cheek. Before I knew it, Sierra, our waitress, had her arms wrapped around my neck and her body plastered against mine. I put my hands on her waist, out of instinct more than anything else.


    Sierra took that as an invitation to wiggle even closer to me. "It''s about time you got out here on the dance floor, handsome."


    "Sorry," I replied. "But I''m not staying. I only came to get my friend over there."


    "Now, why would you want to go and interrupt him having a good time?" She grinned, showing me her small white fangs again. "Especially since we could be having an even better time by ourselves. Alone. Somewhere more . . . private."


    I dropped my hands from her waist and started to step around her, but she kept her arms around my neck and moved in that direction, blocking me.


    "Are you sure there''s nothing else that I can get you tonight, handsome?" Her voice was low, husky, and filled with all sorts of promises.


    "I''m sure," I said in a firm tone. "But thank you for asking."


    She shrugged. "Well, it was worth a shot."


    She didn''t seem offended, but for some reason, I still felt the need to explain myself. Maybe because I''d done such a lousy job of it to everyone else lately.


    "Listen," I said. "You''re gorgeous, sexy, and charming. We both know that, and you can have your pick of any guy in this place."


    "Just not you."


    I shook my head. "I''m already spoken for. You see, there''s this woman I lo - "


    She waved her hand, cutting me off. "Oh, I know, sugar. You keep staring at Gin Blanco like you''re on a desert island and she''s the last bottle of water around. News flash, buddy. You do not want to mess with her. She will cut out your heart and show it to you before you die."


    Well, that was one of the more colorful rumors that I''d heard about the Spider''s prowess, and it wasn''t that far from being true. I''d seen her fillet more than her share of bad guys - and she''d done the same to me without even realizing it.


    "She''s already cut out my heart," I quipped. "And I was happy to let her do it."


    Sierra frowned, like she thought I was just drunk and spouting nonsense. Maybe I was, thinking about how Gin held my heart in the palm of her hand. Either way, I gently unwound Sierra''s other arm from around my neck.


    "Thanks for the dance, but I really have to go."


    "If you change your mind . . ." Her voice trailed off suggestively.


    "I won''t."


    After a moment, she shrugged. "Your loss, sugar."


    She pressed a soft kiss to my cheek, her vanilla perfume tickling my nose. She gave me one more sly, flirty smile before she danced away to the next man.


    I watched her glide away for a moment before glancing back over at the bar. Instead of talking to each other or shooing away the peacocks, Gin and Bria were both watching me. From the angry, pinched set of Bria''s mouth, she''d seen the whole scene with Sierra - and so had Gin. Her face was completely blank, but her fingers slowly curled around her drink, as if she wanted to smash the glass against something - my face, most likely.


    I grimaced. Once again, I''d upset Gin without even trying, just like I had when I''d brought Jillian Delancey to the Briartop art museum a few weeks ago. It had been a total fluke, Jillian being in town and wanting to see the exhibit of Mab''s things. Since I''d had an extra ticket, I''d figured it wouldn''t hurt to bring her along with Eva and me.


    I just hadn''t realized that night would cost Jillian her life.


    That hadn''t been my fault, any more than it had been Gin''s. No, the blame for Jillian''s death rested on the dead shoulders of Clementine Barker, along with Jonah McAllister, who was regrettably still very much alive. But I couldn''t help but feel guilty all the same. Not only because Jillian was dead but because when I''d seen Gin at the gala, I''d forgotten all about Jillian, even though the two of them had been wearing the same dress. And then, when Clementine had thrown a body into the middle of the crowd, crowing about how she and her men had finally killed the Spider, I''d been so shocked, so horrified, so convinced that it was Gin, that I hadn''t even realized that Jillian wasn''t in the rotunda with the rest of the hostages. Once again, I''d failed a friend.


    Oh, I knew that I couldn''t have done anything to save Jillian, that she''d been killed before Clementine and her giants had taken everyone prisoner, but I still felt the weight of her death - and Salina''s too. They were dead, and I wasn''t, and I wasn''t sure how to move forward from that cold, inescapable fact.


    Someone bumped into me, snapping me out of my thoughts. Gin was still staring at me. I hesitated, then waved at her. I pointed toward Phillip and then at the front doors of the club, as if I was getting him and we were leaving and going home for the night.


    We were going home - eventually. I just had a little problem to take care of first. Two of them, actually.


    After a moment, Gin returned my wave, before swiveling around on her seat and facing the Ice bar. Bria glared at me a few more seconds before doing the same.


    I sighed, knowing that I''d screwed up again without even meaning to. But there was nothing I could do about it, so I waded over to where Phillip was still boogying the night away. Now his two dance partners were practically draped over him, one on each arm, and the grin on his face told me exactly how much he was enjoying their attention.


    I waved my hand, catching his eye, and jerked my thumb toward the doors. Phillip started to protest, but he must have seen the tension in my face, because he smoothly kissed one woman''s hand, then the other, before murmuring some excuses and regretfully leaving them behind.


    He followed me to the edge of the dance floor. I risked a glance over my shoulder. Gin was still sitting at the bar, her back was to me, and she was chatting with Bria again.


    "You know, you could always go over there and buy her a drink," Phillip murmured. "I thought that things had gotten a little better between the two of you after the Briartop heist."


    "They are better," I said. "I just don''t know how to get them back to where they were, to where we were before . . ."


    "Before Salina."


    I shrugged. Phillip knew the rest of the whole sad, twisted story as well as I did.


    "You should make some grand romantic gesture," he said in a confident, knowing tone. "Women love that. Flowers, candy, jewelry."


    I didn''t tell him that I''d already done that - sort of - by giving Gin the rune necklaces that had belonged to her mother and her older sister. The snowflake and ivy-vine pendants had been among Mab''s things at the Briartop museum. Mab had murdered Gin''s family when Gin was thirteen and had kept the necklaces as some sort of sick trophy.


    I''d noticed Gin staring at the necklaces and had realized what they were before Clementine and her men had taken everyone hostage. After the crisis was over, I''d found the rune pendants stuffed into a garbage bag with some of the other jewels that the giants had taken off the partygoers. It had taken me a couple of days and a lot of hard work to clean up the runes and make the silverstone shine again, but it had been more than worth it to see the look of amazement and wonder on Gin''s face when I''d given the necklaces back to her at the Pork Pit -


    "Flowers, candy, jewelry," Phillip repeated in a firm voice. "Those three things have gotten me out of more sticky situations than any gun ever has."


    I shook my head. "That''s because you''re so utterly charming that you convince every woman who crosses your path that she''s going to be Mrs. Phillip Kincaid. Naturally, they get upset when that doesn''t happen."


    For a moment, his face grew somber. "There''s only one woman who''s going to be Mrs. Phillip Kincaid."


    I knew that he was talking about Eva. I could see it in his eyes, but I made myself snort, as though I didn''t care one way or the other about the burgeoning relationship between the two of them. "If she wants you."


    "Oh, she''ll want me," Phillip said with a confident grin. "Everyone does."


    "Now you sound like Stuart."


    "Who is Stuart?" he asked, a puzzled look on his face.


    "I''ll tell you all about him and his friend Richie - outside," I said. "Now, come on. We have some peacocks to deal with."


    Chapter 5


    Phillip and I left the bump and grind of the dance floor behind and stepped outside. I breathed in, enjoying the freshness of the summer night air after all of the smoke and sweat inside the club.


    The interior of Northern Aggression might have been all lush elegance, but the exterior was surprisingly featureless, like a corporate office building. The only thing that set the building apart was the neon sign over the entrance, which was shaped like Roslyn''s rune. The heart with an arrow through it burned a bright, bloody red, then a sunny yellow, then a burnt orange, casting its intense light out over the folks waiting to get past the red velvet rope at the entrance to the club.


    A few people looked up from their phones, cigarettes, and conversations as we walked past but quickly lost interest and turned their hopeful attention back to the giant bouncer manning the velvet rope. I filled Phillip in on Stuart the giant and Richie the dwarf and their plans for Gin as we headed toward the parking lot.


    When I finished, Phillip let out a low whistle. "So now they''re following her around Ashland, just waiting for her to let her guard down long enough to try to kill her? Sounds like some folks are getting a little desperate to get rid of the Spider."


    "I don''t know why. It''s not like Gin is trying to take Mab''s place or anything like that. All she wants is to be left alone."


    Phillip shook his head. "That''s not going to happen, and we both know it. Not until someone steps up and takes control of the underworld. Right now, everyone is just trying to hold on to what they have and position themselves as best they can. As much as I hate to say it, at least with Mab around, there was some semblance of order. You don''t want to know how many men I''ve lost these past few months to fools storming onto the riverboat, thinking that they can rob me and intimidate my customers. Not to mention what happened to Antonio."


    A shadow passed over his face, causing guilt to cut through my stomach like one of Gin''s knives. Antonio Mendez had been Phillip''s right-hand man on the Delta Queen, but more important, the giant had been Phillip''s friend. Salina had used her water magic to suck all of the moisture, all of the life, out of Antonio, and he''d died on the riverboat''s main deck. Salina might have been the one who actually killed the giant, but I still felt responsible for his death - the same way that I felt responsible for all of the hurt that Eva, Phillip, Cooper, and Gin had experienced because of Salina.


    Because of my foolish faith and trust in her.


    There was nothing that I could do for Antonio. Not now. But the same wasn''t true for Gin, so I pulled my keys out of my pocket and popped open the trunk of my Mercedes-Benz. The trunk was a mess, full of tools and odd bits of metal I had picked up here and there, but I knew exactly what I was looking for and precisely where it was. Like Gin and her knives, I never went anywhere without my weapon of choice these days. I reached down into the mess, and my hands closed around a smooth, firm, familiar hilt. A moment later, I pulled my blacksmith''s hammer out of the trunk and into the neon glare cast by the heart-and-arrow sign.


    The hammer wasn''t a traditional weapon, but it was mine. After spending so many hours, so many years, in my forge, it felt far more comfortable in my hand than a gun or a knife ever would. Besides, with so many giants and dwarves in Ashland, it was good to have something that would really pack a punch and level the playing field. Drive the hammer into someone''s knees, and he would go down screaming, no matter how tall or tough he was. Slam it into someone''s head, and his skull would crack like an eggshell, no matter how thick and strong his bones were.


    I twirled the hammer around and around, moving it from one hand to the other and limbering up my shoulders. After being hunched over in the booth, it felt good to move, to stretch - and to be doing something to help Gin, rather than hurt her again.


    The hammer was made of solid silverstone, although you couldn''t really tell, given how much soot and ash had blackened it over the years. And there was something else that made the hammer special: my magic.

 Page 5

    Over the years, I''d imbued the hammer with my own elemental talent for metal, so that whenever I was working in the forge, the hammer was an extension of my arm, my magic, my will. All of that flowed from me, through the hammer, and into whatever piece of metal I was working with, until the sheets of iron, copper, and silverstone took on the exact shape that I wanted them to.


    Phillip eyed the hammer. "I thought you just wanted to talk to these guys, tell them to back off."


    "We can try that," I said. "But I doubt it will work. They''ll want their money too badly to walk away from this chance to kill Gin. Does that bother you?"


    He grinned. "Not at all. In fact, that''s exactly the sort of party that I like. Although I hate to go empty-handed. What other junk have you got in your trunk?" Phillip snickered, then leaned down and peered into the mess. "Hey, what''s in here?"


    "Nothing - "


    Before I could stop him, he reached down and popped open the lid on a silverstone case that lay on the right side of the trunk. Five knives were nestled in black foam inside the case. They glinted dully in the flashing neon still streaming out from the club''s sign.


    "Knives?" Phillip''s eyes narrowed. "Do I even have to guess who these are for?"


    He plucked one of the knives out of the foam and held it up to the light. He turned it around and saw the symbol stamped into the hilt. A small circle surrounded by eight thin rays. A spider rune - Gin''s rune - the symbol for patience.


    "You made her some more knives?" Phillip scoffed. "Really? The five you made her for Christmas weren''t enough?"


    "Have you met Gin?"


    He shrugged, conceding my point. "Still, Owen, knives? Again? Really? Were you not listening before when I mentioned flowers, candy, and jewelry?"


    "Gin isn''t exactly a flowers-candy-and-jewelry sort of woman," I said. "And I didn''t make the knives for her."


    Phillip snorted. "Right. Because someone else wants a set of knives with her rune stamped into the hilts. If these knives are part of some half-assed plan you have to get back into Gin''s good graces, then I gotta say, it''s a little lame."


    I ground my teeth. That was exactly what I''d been thinking about doing with the knives, giving them to Gin as an apology for everything that I''d done. I knew that it wouldn''t make up for everything - not for anything, really - but it was all I could think of.


    In fact, every time I was in my forge these days, all I thought about was what I could make for Gin. What weapons she might need. What sort of sculpture she might like. What single thing I could make to get her to forgive me.


    So far, I''d made five sets of knives, three sculptures shaped like various flower bouquets, and a complete set of silverware for the Pork Pit. None of which was good enough for her, not by a long shot. But still, I kept forging things, hoping that some sort of inspiration would strike and I''d finally know what to make, what to do to escape my past mistakes, and move forward.


    Phillip started slashing the knife through the air, as though he was thinking about keeping it for himself.


    "Give me that," I growled.


    I grabbed the knife, put it back into the case, and closed the top.


    "Did I ever tell you that you''re no fun?" Phillip pouted.


    "Frequently." I dug through the trunk until I came up with another, slightly smaller hammer. "Here. Use this. If you still remember how."


    He twirled the hammer in his hands, with the same sort of familiar ease that I had. "Oh, I remember. I could never forget all the blisters, burns, and sore muscles I got from Cooper''s forge."


    Back when we were younger and living on the streets, Cooper had taken us both in, along with Eva. Phillip had spent almost as many hours working in Cooper''s forge as I had, even though he''d been a scrawny kid back then. But now he was even stronger than I was. He''d have no problems using that hammer to pound his way through whoever got in his way.


    "Now what?" he asked.


    "Now we find Gin''s car. If they tracked her here, then they probably know what her car looks like and where she parked it. Since Stuart struck out in the club, they''ll probably try to take her out in the parking lot."


    "So that''s why you asked Xavier to throw them out of the club," Phillip murmured. "And here I thought you were just another ugly face."


    "Come on," I said, slamming the lid down on the trunk. "Before I show you just how ugly I can be."


    We walked through the rows of cars, looking for Gin''s vehicle, but I didn''t see it. Then again, there were so many cars crammed into the lot that I could have searched for an hour and not come across it.


    "Maybe they came in Bria''s car," Phillip said when we reached the end of another row. "Or one of Finnegan Lane''s. I hear that he has quite the collection of vehicles."


    "He does," I replied in an absent voice, growing more and more frustrated.


    Phillip poked me in the shoulder. "Hey, is that your guy?"


    Sure enough, Stuart stepped out of the club. Rather, he was hustled out by Xavier, who had one of Stuart''s arms pinned behind his back.


    "C''mon, man," Stuart whined. "I was just having a little fun."


    "Well, go have your fun somewhere else. Remember what I told you, Stuart," Xavier growled, his voice carrying all the way over to us. "You''re banned from the club for a month. And a month means a whole month, not a lousy couple of days. Now, get lost before I give you the beating that you so richly deserve."


    Xavier gave him a sharp push, and Stuart stumbled forward five feet before catching his balance. He clenched his hands into fists and whirled around as though he was thinking about charging Xavier. But Xavier crossed his arms over his broad chest and stared the other giant down, daring Stuart to come at him. Stuart must have thought better of things, because he brushed a bit of imaginary dirt off one of the sleeves of his blue T-shirt.


    "Whatever. I don''t need this stupid club anyway," Stuart said. "Chicks love me. Love me, I tell you!"


    A few snickers sounded from the folks standing in line. Stuart turned his angry gaze to them, and suddenly, everyone was very interested in their phones, cigarettes, and conversations once more.


    Stuart started muttering to himself, but he headed toward the parking lot, moving parallel to where Phillip and I were standing.


    Phillip started to follow him, but I grabbed his arm.


    "Wait," I said. "There''s another guy with him."


    Sure enough, a minute later, Richie ambled out of the club, his hands stuck in the front pockets of his khakis like he was just out for an innocent stroll. The dwarf must have somehow sneaked past Xavier inside, or maybe he''d realized that Stuart was about to get tossed out. Either way, it didn''t matter, because he was outside now - where I could deal with him.


    Richie looked left and right. He spotted Stuart marching through the parking lot and headed in that direction, still keeping his slow, steady pace, as if he wasn''t on his way to murder a woman.


    Phillip let out a low whistle. "That''s who''s after Gin? No wonder you were worried."


    "Why? Do you know him?"


    He nodded. "Oh, yeah. That''s Richie Richardson. He''s a nasty bit of work. Basically, a pair of fists for hire. Strong, even for a dwarf, and he doesn''t mind getting his hands dirty. He rather enjoys it, actually."


    I thought of how chillingly empty Richie''s eyes had been when he''d been talking about killing Gin. "Yeah, I can see that. Does he have any elemental magic?"


    Phillip shook his head. "None that I know of, but that doesn''t mean much."


    No, it didn''t. Some elementals almost constantly gave off waves of power that other elementals around them could sense - gusts of Air, hot, invisible sparks of Fire, and the like. But there were others, like Gin, whose power was completely self-contained, and you didn''t realize that they had Ice or Stone magic until they frosted or buried you with it.


    I tightened my grip on my hammer. "Come on," I said. "Let''s see where they''re headed."


    Richie trailed after Stuart, and Phillip and I followed both of them. Stuart walked all the way to the end of the parking lot and kept going, heading down one of the streets that ran past the nightclub. Finally, he stopped in front of an Aston Martin with the license plate FINNSTOY. So Gin and Bria had driven here in one of Finn''s vehicles after all.


    I should have known that Gin would park way out here instead of in a closer lot. That way, if someone did jump her, there was less chance of anyone hearing them scream when she took them out with her knives or some innocent bystander becoming collateral damage in the heat of the fight. Not to mention that the trees lining the street cast dark shadows and that there were a couple of Dumpsters in a nearby alley that would be the perfect place to hide a body or two.


    Gin might be an assassin, but she had her own set of rules, ones that I admired. She was the most dangerous person I''d ever known, but she was also one of the most honest, decent, and fair. She didn''t go out of her way to hurt people - not unless they hurt her first.


    Stuart finally stopped in front of Finn''s car and started pacing back and forth. Richie ambled over to him. Phillip and I crouched down behind another car a little farther up the street so they wouldn''t spot us.


    Stuart realized that Richie had finally caught up to him. He turned to face the dwarf and threw his hands up into the air. "What the hell was that? Why didn''t you help me with that stupid bouncer? We could have taken him out together."


    Richie leaned back against the hood of Finn''s car. "And drawn even more attention to ourselves? I don''t think so, you idiot. I can''t believe that you didn''t tell me that you weren''t supposed to even be in the club to begin with. You almost ruined everything. You''re lucky that Blanco is so dangerous, or I''d kill you where you stand for jeopardizing my payday like this."


    The dwarf''s voice was calm, but Stuart heard the promise of violence in Richie''s words as well as I did.


    The giant held up his hands in a placating gesture. "Hey, hey, hey. Let''s not talk crazy, now. You need me, remember? That''s why you called and asked me to come back from Cypress Mountain for this gig."


    Richie gave him a flat look. "I seriously doubt that, but since you''re here, I might as well use you."


    Stuart tried to smile at the other man, but he couldn''t quite pull it off. "Yep. ''Cause that''s what I''m here for, to help you kill the Spider so we can both get paid. Now, how do you want to do this?"


    "We stick to the plan," Richie said. "You confront her and get her attention. Then I''ll come up on her blind side and finish her off."


    Stuart nodded and started swinging his arms back and forth in preparation, his movements so exaggerated that he looked like he was auditioning for some cheesy workout video. All he needed was a sweaty headband to match his T-shirt.


    Richie shook his head, pushed away from the car, and disappeared behind one of the Dumpsters in the alley.


    "That idiot," Phillip murmured, staring at the giant. "Gin will have her knife stuck in his gut before he realizes what''s happening."


    "Yeah, which will leave Richie free to attack her while she''s distracted. He might just succeed too. If Gin kills Stuart, and Richie kills Gin, well, then he doesn''t have to share his payment, now, does he?"


    Phillip grinned. "You gotta admit that it''s not a bad plan."


    "No, but we''re going to stop it all the same."


    His grin widened. "What did you have in mind?"


    "I say we use their own plan against them. You go over and talk to Stuart. When Richie comes out to send you on your way, we''ll take them both out. It''ll be just like when we were kids, taking on someone bigger and stronger than us."


    He sighed. "But why do I have to be the bait? I was always the bait."


    "Because you''re so very good at it," I said, grinning.


    Phillip grumbled a little, but he got to his feet. He held his hammer down and behind his right leg, mostly out of sight, and walked toward Stuart.


    The giant was peering at his reflection in the car''s side mirror instead of keeping an eye out for Gin. Apparently, Xavier had mussed up his hair when he''d thrown him out of the club, because Stuart was carefully combing his locks back into place once more. But he put the comb away and jerked up to his full height at the sight of Phillip coming toward him.


    Stuart eyed Phillip with suspicion - and jealousy. Phillip was another pretty boy, only with the mettle to back up his easy swagger. Phillip stopped in front of the giant, still holding the hammer down by his side. Stuart was too busy eyeing Phillip''s perfect golden ponytail to notice the weapon.


    "You want something?" the giant finally growled.


    "You need to take a hike," Phillip said. "I know what you''re here for, and I''m telling you to forget it. I''m the only person killing Gin Blanco tonight."


    Stuart blinked. His blue eyes flicked to where Richie was still hiding behind the Dumpster. He waited a moment, but the dwarf didn''t appear, so Stuart let out a weak laugh and opened his mouth.


    "Don''t bother denying it." Phillip cut in, and jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "Am-scray, pal. Before I hurt you a lot worse than that bouncer did."


    Anger sparked in Stuart''s gaze, and he looked at Phillip, taking in his muscled chest and solid body. After a moment, he snorted. "You? Take me out? I don''t think so, pal. I''m a giant, in case you haven''t noticed. And you''re not."


    Phillip grinned. "Actually, I don''t know what I am. Giant, dwarf, human, maybe a mix of all three. But that won''t stop me from kicking your ass. This is your last chance to walk away. I suggest that you take it."

 Page 6

    "Forget it." Stuart poked his finger in Phillip''s chest. "I suggest that you walk away before I kick your ass all the way up and down this street."


    Phillip poked Stuart right back, making the giant take a step back. Meanwhile, Richie slid out of the shadows and started sneaking up on Phillip''s blind side. The dwarf was moving more quickly than I thought he would, and I realized that I wouldn''t get to my friend in time to keep him from getting hit.


    "Phillip!" I yelled, even as I started to run toward him. "Behind you!"


    Phillip hunched down just as Stuart took a swing at him. He easily managed to avoid the giant''s blow, but Richie raced up behind him and planted his fist in Phillip''s kidneys. Phillip grunted and swung back with the hammer he was still holding, causing the dwarf to jump away from him. As soon as Phillip drew the hammer back for another swing, Richie darted forward again, driving his fists into Phillip''s side and making him stumble forward into Stuart. The two men went down on the ground beside the car.


    Richie started to draw his foot back to level a vicious kick at Phillip, but the dwarf''s head turned at the sound of my footsteps pounding against the pavement. He whirled around as I charged at him.


    "Nobody gets in the way of one of my jobs," Richie hissed.


    "We''ll see about that," I hissed back at him.


    I raised my hammer and brought it down as hard as I could, trying to cave in his skull with one brutal blow. But Richie snapped his arm up and caught the weapon in his beefy hand.


    He smirked at me. "Now whatcha going to do, tough guy?"


    I slammed my fist into his face. I wasn''t as strong as the dwarf, but I could throw a decent punch. The blow made Richie stagger back, although he managed to jerk my hammer out of my hand and take it with him. The weapon slid out of his fingers and clattered to the ground, sliding to a stop beside the car.


    Meanwhile, Phillip struggled with Stuart, the two men exchanging vicious punches and rolling around on all the oil, dirt, and mud gathered on the pavement.


    "Not my shirt!" Stuart wailed. "This is my lucky T-shirt!"


    "Shut up," Phillip muttered, and punched him in the face again.


    In front of me, Richie regained his balance and brought a hand up to his lip, which was bleeding. He spat out a mouthful of blood and raised his murderous gaze to me once more. "You made me bleed. You''re going to pay for that."


    I flexed my fingers. "We''ll see."


    Richie charged at me, and I stepped up to meet him.


    Smack!


    Smack! Smack!


    Smack!


    We exchanged punch after punch after punch. Richie led with a glancing blow to my chin. I landed a solid one-two combo to his chest. He retaliated by driving his fist into my stomach.


    It was the last blow that made me double over and gasp for air. I''d been punched by a dwarf before, but Phillip had been right when he''d said that Richie was stronger than most of his kind. It felt like someone had dropped a lead anvil on my stomach.


    But Richie wasn''t done with me. The dwarf surged forward, dug his fingers into my hair, yanked my head back, and punched me in the face. He hit me again and again, until the world spun around and around, and white stars exploded over and over in my field of vision.


    I was aware of my legs sliding out from under me and my ass hitting the pavement.


    "Owen!"


    I thought I heard Phillip yell my name, but I wasn''t sure, given the way my ears were ringing right now. One thing that I did know, I had to find some way to fend off Richie, or the dwarf would beat me to death.


    Richie drew back his leg. I jerked to one side, and his foot slammed into the driver''s door of Finn''s car, leaving a dent. The dwarf cursed and hopped around, howling with pain. I got up on my hands and knees and started crawling away from him -


    My fingers brushed something hard and metal lying on the ground, and I felt a wave of magic flowing into me. I focused on the cold, hard, unyielding feel of my own power, and the soft, soothing whispers of the silverstone. After a moment, my vision fully cleared, and I felt stronger than before -


    A hand dug into my shoulder and threw me against the side of the car. I slumped back down on my ass, although this time, I managed to hang on to my hammer. My hand closed around the handle, and my fingers slid into the worn, smooth, familiar groove.


    "Time to die," Richie hissed, his mouth curving up into a bloody smile.


    I waited until he leaned down to punch me, then I raised up the hammer and hit him in the head with it as hard as I could.


    Crack.


    All the movement in Richie''s body just stopped, like a toy that had had its battery ripped out.


    I pulled the hammer out of the dent it had made in his skull, and the dwarf pitched forward without another sound, his blood spattering all over me and his body sprawling across mine. I shoved him away and slowly got to my feet. A few feet away, Phillip was raising his own hammer high and bringing it down on Stuart''s throat. He didn''t need my help. He rarely had, even when we were kids.


    I looked at the bloody end of the weapon in my hand. Maybe I should make Gin a hammer instead of another set of knives -


    Clack-clack-clack-clack.


    It took me a moment to realize that someone was running toward me in what sounded like a pair of high heels. I whipped around, and then I wished that I hadn''t, as the movement made my skull start pounding even worse than before.


    "Gin?" I mumbled, wondering if she''d somehow seen the fight and come to help.


    But it wasn''t Gin who was racing toward me. It was Sierra, the waitress.


    She stopped right in front of me. Since I''d last seen her on the dance floor, she''d put a red leather jacket on over her black bustier, and a matching red purse dangled off her right shoulder.


    I frowned, wondering if maybe my vision wasn''t quite as clear as I thought it was. "Sierra? What are you doing here - "


    "Hi, sugar," she drawled.


    Sierra smiled, pulled a stun gun out of her purse, shoved it into my chest, and hit me with it.


    Chapter 6


    The volts of electricity pumping through my chest made every single nerve ending in my body flare to life and explode with pain. I opened my mouth to scream, but no sound came out. Instead, my legs went out from under me again, and I slumped to the ground, my muscles jumping and twitching with spasms. It was all I could do to hold on to my hammer, but I knew that if I let go of it, I was dead.


    Sierra smiled, leaned down, and hit me with the stun gun again. My head arched back, and I could feel every tendon in my neck, shoulders, and chest straining against the electricity surging through my body. Once again, I opened my mouth to scream but couldn''t get a sound out. Every wave of electricity felt like ropes of fire curling tighter and tighter around my body.


    Sierra finally pulled the stun gun away from my chest, and I slumped against the side of the car, all the fight fried right out of me. Sweat ran down my face, the salt of it stinging my eyes, and I struggled to blink away the moisture and push down the pain pulsing through my body.


    I was dimly aware of Phillip still struggling with Stuart off to my left. It sounded like the giant had had a little more life left in him than I''d thought.


    "Geez," Sierra muttered, staring at Richie, who was still lying on the pavement where he''d fallen. "You really did a number on him, didn''t you?"


    She dug the sharp toe of her red stiletto into the dwarf''s side, but of course, Richie didn''t move. He was much too dead for that.


    "Who . . . are . . . you?" I finally managed to rasp.


    She bent down so she could look into my eyes. "I''m the woman who''s going to kill the high and mighty Spider - not you and your buddy there. I knew that you were up to something. You were showing way too much interest in her inside the club. Tell me, did they hire you to take out Blanco too? As a backup team in case I failed?"


    They? Who were they? Who had hired Sierra to kill Gin?


    "I don''t know . . . what you''re . . . talking about," I said, my voice still low, strained, and hoarse.


    Sierra narrowed her hazel eyes, as if she didn''t believe me. She started to hit me with the stun gun a third time, but her cold gaze flicked to Phillip. He must have been close to finishing off Stuart, because Sierra straightened up.


    "Ah, well. You want something done right . . ." Her voice trailed off, and she gave me another predatory smile. "Now, at least, I don''t have to split the money with those two idiots. Not that I planned on doing that anyway. While Blanco was killing them, I was going to take her out."


    So Sierra had planned for the two men to be a distraction while she snuck up on Gin, just like Richie had been going to do to Stuart.


    "Of course, now I''ll have to add you and your friend to the body count." Sierra shrugged. "But that''s something else that I don''t have a problem with."


    She reached into her purse, pulled out a revolver, and pointed it in Phillip''s direction.


    Even though my fingers were still twitching, I managed to tighten them around the grip of my hammer. Once again, I felt a wave of my own power flow from the metal to my body, easing some of my aches and pains. I grabbed hold of that cold, hard, unyielding sensation and let it center me. Then I raised the hammer and smashed it into Sierra''s right knee as hard as I could.


    It wasn''t the mightiest blow I''d ever landed, but it was certainly effective, and I felt her bones crunch underneath the head of the hammer. She screamed with pain, but she didn''t go down, so I raised the hammer again and slammed it into the top of her foot. She screamed again, higher and louder this time, and staggered back.


    One of her heels caught in a pit in the pavement and snapped, sending Sierra''s legs flying out from under her.


    Crack.


    Her head hit the ground at an awkward angle, and just like with Richie, all the movement in her body simply stopped. Her mouth gaped open, but nothing came out except a bit of blood, darker than the crimson lipstick that she wore. More and more of it began to pool on the pavement under her head, and I knew that she was dead.


    I let out a breath and finally released my hammer. The weapon clattered to the ground, but I could hear the metal murmuring, this time with pride. It always enjoyed hitting things, no matter what they were.


    "Owen!"


    I blinked, and suddenly, Phillip was crouching down in front of me.


    "Are you okay?" he asked, his blue eyes full of concern.


    I grimaced. "I''ll live. I think."


    Phillip helped me up. My muscles still jerked and burned with electricity, but I managed to stay upright.


    He stared down at Sierra. "She really didn''t want to take no for an answer, did she?"


    "Only you could make a bad joke like that at a time like this."


    Phillip grinned a moment, but then his face turned serious. "Who do you think she was?"


    I shrugged and immediately wished I hadn''t, as the small motion sent more ribbons of fire racing through my body. "I don''t know. She said that she was here to kill Gin. She thought that whoever had hired her had hired us too, in case she and her men couldn''t get the job done."


    Phillip bent down and rifled through her purse. "No ID on her but plenty of weapons. There''s a knife in here, along with some garroting wire."


    He let out a low whistle and held out a piece of paper so I could see it. The words One million were scribbled on it, probably the amount that Sierra was supposed to get paid, along with three letters: M.M.M.


    "Do you think that''s who hired her?" Phillip asked. "Because we both know of someone with the same three initials."


    Along with everything else that had gone down at the Briartop museum, Gin had also discovered that Mab had left her estate to some long-lost relative, M. M. Monroe. So far, Gin hadn''t been able to find out anything about this mysterious Monroe, not so much as his or her full name. But it looked like this person knew all about Gin - and that worried me.


    I took the note from him and slid it into my pants pocket. I''d think about it later. Right now, we had more pressing concerns.


    "Now what?" Phillip asked.


    "What do you think? Now we get rid of the bodies."


    He sighed and shook his head. "I think you''ve been spending way too much time around Gin. We go out for a simple guys'' night on the town, and you end up dropping three bodies in the nightclub parking lot. You''re picking up her bad habits."


    A wry grin pulled up my lips. "But it was fun, right? Just like old times, when we''d get into some street fight with a couple of gangbangers who thought that they were tougher and smarter than we were."


    Phillip snorted. "Yeah, except this time, you got electrocuted, and I got a couple of bruised ribs."


    "Well, I''d say that''s a big improvement, since we used to get the snot beat out of us," I said. "Isn''t progress grand?"


    Phillip snorted again, but the smile on his face matched the one on mine.


    We started with Stuart, since he was the largest. Phillip took his shoulders, while I grabbed his ankles. Together, we moved the giant out of the street, across the sidewalk, and into the shadows that spilled out of the alley where the Dumpsters were. Then we hurried to do the same thing with Richie and Sierra.


    We''d just laid Sierra on the ground beside the giant and the dwarf when footsteps sounded. Phillip and I looked at each other, then both crouched down behind the closest Dumpster - something else that was eerily familiar from our time on the streets.


    The footsteps grew louder, and a moment later, Gin strode into view, with Bria walking beside her. Bria was chatting about something, holding her hands out as she walked and talked, but Gin was much more wary. Her eyes never stopped moving from shadow to shadow, and I could tell that she was only listening to Bria with half an ear. Gin knew that this would be a great place for someone to try to ambush the Spider, and she was ready for whatever danger might be lurking in the shadows. But I''d already done the dirty work for her tonight.

 Page 7

    Gin and Bria stopped a safe distance away from Finn''s car. Gin remotely unlocked the doors and started the engine. Then the sisters waited, in case someone had planted a bomb on the car while they''d been inside the club. It broke my heart that Gin had to take such elaborate precautions, that she had to be so vigilant all the time, even when she was just out trying to have a drink with her sister. But it was part of her being the Spider now, and it probably always would be.


    A minute passed, and the engine rumbled along smoothly. Bria headed over to the passenger''s side to get in, while Gin went over to the driver''s door. She reached for the handle but then stopped. Gin frowned, bent down, and touched part of the pavement next to the car. Then she brought her fingers up into the light.


    I could see the blood shining on them from here.


    I bit back a curse. We''d moved the bodies out of sight, but I hadn''t thought to clean up all of the blood on the pavement. Maybe I hadn''t spent enough time with Gin after all. Or with Sophia Deveraux, the dwarf who got rid of some of the bodies that Gin left behind.


    Gin frowned as she studied the blood on her fingers, and then her gaze flicked to the door in front of her - and the dent in it, the one that Richie had put there with his foot. Her frown deepened, and she slowly turned her head left and right, peering into every shadow on the street, including the one that Phillip and I were crouched in.


    I thought about rising to my feet, calling out to her, and explaining what had happened, but in the end, I stayed where I was, hidden in the shadows.


    Gin looked past us once, but her gaze drifted back to our location, and her eyes narrowed as she tried to see into the darkness. Phillip started to show himself to her, but I put my hand on his shoulder, silently telling him to stay where he was.


    "Something wrong?" Bria''s voice drifted over to me.


    After a moment, Gin rose to her feet and shook her head. She pulled a tissue out of her jacket pocket and used it to wipe the blood off her fingers. "Nah. Nothing important. Looks like somebody dinged Finn''s car. Probably some fight gone wrong."


    Bria sighed. "Great. He''ll never let us hear the end of that."


    "I know," Gin replied, stuffing the tissue back into her pocket. "And that''s why we''re not going to tell him about it until at least tomorrow morning. Now, let''s get out of here."


    They both got into the car, and Gin drove off. I waited until the car''s taillights had disappeared into the night before I got to my feet and stepped back out into the street.


    "What was that about?" Phillip asked. "Why didn''t you go over and tell her what happened? I felt like a teenager again, hiding in the bushes outside my girlfriend''s house, hoping that her dad wouldn''t come and knock me around."


    "I didn''t want to ruin her night," I said in a soft voice.


    "How would this ruin her night? You killed the bad guys for her. She didn''t even have to get her knives bloody. We did all the work."


    I shook my head. Phillip didn''t understand how tired Gin was of being everyone''s target, but I did. She deserved at least one night where she didn''t have to worry about blood, bad guys, and bodies, and I was determined to give it to her.


    "Besides," Phillip continued, "as far as grand romantic gestures go, I can''t think of a better one for an assassin than a couple of dead bodies."


    "What happened to all your talk about flowers, candy, and jewelry?"


    He shrugged. "Like you pointed out, Gin''s not exactly that kind of woman."


    I stared down the street at the corner where Finn''s car had disappeared. "No, she''s not. Now, come on. Help me finish getting rid of the bodies."


    By the time Phillip and I had heaved the bodies into the Dumpsters, wiped some of the blood and dirt of the fight off us, and gone back inside the club to tell Xavier that Sierra wasn''t quite what she seemed, it was after midnight. Xavier took us back to Roslyn''s office, where she looked through some records. It turned out that Sierra had only been working at the club a few days, probably just as a cover job. Roslyn and Xavier promised to find out what they could about Sierra, but I doubted that they''d come up with much. Northern Aggression wasn''t exactly the kind of place that was conducive to truth telling, either by the patrons or by the employees.


    Phillip and I left the club, got into my car, and drove over to the Delta Queen, which was docked downtown on the Aneirin River. The casino was closed for the night, and the strings of lights that swooped down from one deck to another were all dark, although the whitewashed wood and brass railing still glimmered in the moonlight.


    Phillip got out of the car and came around to my side. I rolled down the driver''s window, and he propped his forearms on the frame.


    "Well," he drawled, staring down at the blood spatters on his jacket sleeves. "I suppose that this suit is officially ruined."


    Mud, blood, and grime covered just about every inch of his white suit. Wisps of blond hair had escaped his ponytail, dirt smudged his chin, and the left side of his face had already started to bruise and puff up from where the giant had hit him. Phillip looked terrible, and it was my fault - again. He''d taken a beating because of my desire to protect Gin, and we were both extremely lucky that things hadn''t been a whole lot worse.


    Guilt surged through me, but I made my voice light. "Well, feel free to send me the dry-cleaning bill," I said, trying to make a joke.


    "Oh, I intend to." His face was dead serious.


    I winced. "I''m sorry. I shouldn''t have dragged you into the middle of my fight like that. Next time, maybe we''ll have a better guys'' night out. Or at least a less violent one."


    "Oh, I don''t know," he drawled. "You. Me. Out on the street. Facing down some punks and getting the best of them. You were right. It was just like old times - good times."


    His face creased into a wide smile, his blue eyes bright with victory. For a moment, it was like the years melted away, and I saw the scrawny kid he had once been, grinning like a fool because he''d managed to steal a couple of apples for him, Eva, and me to eat.


    My chest tightened, the sensation even more painful than when Sierra used her stun gun on me. It had been so long since I''d seen him smile like that. It had been so long since he''d looked at me like that, without a trace of anger, hurt, or bitterness marring his features.


    Phillip had been my best friend, the person I depended on more than anyone else, but I''d thrown that all away when I''d believed Salina and her lies over him.


    Once again, I cursed my own foolishness, and I couldn''t get rid of the hollow ache in my chest either. Because as the weeks had passed, and I got more perspective about Salina and all the horrible things that she''d done, I''d realized something else. Salina hadn''t just cost me my friendship with Phillip - she''d also stolen my time with him.


    Phillip and I had been estranged for years because of her, and Cooper and I hadn''t fared much better, at least not after Salina had first left Ashland. I''d missed out on so much with them. Phillip growing up and making a name for himself as the owner of the Delta Queen. Cooper and all of his blacksmith projects. Not to mention Eva and all of the happy, sweet childhood innocence that Salina had taken from her.


    It made me sick, thinking about all of those wasted years, all that precious time that I could have spent with people who truly cared about me. But instead, I''d squandered it by wondering where Salina had gone and why.


    And now the same thing was happening with Gin.


    The days were turning into weeks, and I was still no closer to figuring out how to set things right between the two of us than I had been the night that Salina had died -


    "What are you thinking about?" Phillip asked, interrupting my thoughts. "You look so serious all of a sudden."


    I stared at him, and once again, I thought of all the quiet moments like this one that I''d lost with him because of Salina and her lies.


    And in that second, I vowed that it wasn''t going to happen again. Not with Phillip, Cooper, or Eva - and not with Gin either. Salina had already taken so much from me. She wasn''t getting anything else. Not one more damn second of my time.


    "Owen?"


    I made myself smile at him, as though I had nothing important on my mind. "I was just wondering how you''re going to make me pay for this later."


    "We''ll start with a new suit." Phillip grinned again. "Although I''m sure that I can come up with some other acts of contrition that you can complete to atone for your sins. Tell you what. Come by tomorrow for lunch, and I''ll tell you what you can do to complete your penance."


    If only he knew that was exactly what I was planning on doing. Making it up to him. Making things up to everyone. Cooper, Eva, Gin. I couldn''t undo what Salina had done. But I could sure as shooting try my best to let them know how sorry I was for everything that had happened - and how much I loved them.


    Especially Gin.


    "Owen?" Phillip said. "There you go, looking all serious again."


    I gave him the same saucy wink he''d been using on all the women at the club tonight. "It''s a date. See you then."


    He shook his head. "It''s so sad that you have no game. That''s something else we''ll have to talk about tomorrow. Later."


    He gave me a much saucier wink, then straightened up and waved at me before walking up the gangplank and disappearing from view.


    I put the car in gear and drove away from the riverboat, thinking about everything that had happened tonight. Talking with Phillip, laughing with him, fighting side-by-side with him. For the first time since we''d reconnected, it felt almost . . . natural. Like we were finally starting to get back to where we''d once been as friends. My lips pulled up into another smile.


    Good times, indeed. And I hoped there were many more to come.


    I drove home. Eva was spending the night with Violet Fox, her best friend, so the mansion was dark and quiet when I went inside. I took a long, hot shower to wash Richie''s and Sierra''s blood off me, then changed into a T-shirt and some jeans, along with a pair of boots and some heavy blue coveralls. I also retrieved the hammers from the trunk and cleaned the blood off them.


    Even though it was after two in the morning now, I felt energized - galvanized, even - so I grabbed my hammer and went to my forge.


    Two stone walls held up the pointed slate roof, but the other two sides were open so the air could flow inside and fuel the fire. It wasn''t as large as Cooper''s forge - not even close - but it was mine, my own space for me to do my own work.


    I flipped the lights on and got started. It didn''t take me long to light the fire, arrange my tools, and select a piece of iron to work with. In fact, I found comfort in the familiar routines, just like Gin did with her cooking.


    Once the iron was properly heated, I picked up my hammer and reached for my magic, feeling the cold, hard power rising up out of the pit of my stomach, flowing through my shoulders, down my arms, through my hands, and all the way into my fingertips. The hot iron began to whisper in anticipation of how I might shape it, while the other bits of metal in the forge chimed in, wondering what I was going to do next. I drew in a breath, really focusing in on my magic and gathering up more and more of it. The whispers of the metal intensified; it knew what was coming next. When I had a firm grip on my magic, I slowly channeled it into my hammer, until the silverstone was humming with raw power - just like I was.


    Then I brought the hammer down.


    I hit the iron time and time again, making sparks erupt and zing through the air like fat red bumblebees before the sticky humidity of the night snuffed them out. I ignored the sparks and focused on the metal, until I could feel each and every bit of the iron, down to the smallest shaving. Then I started whispering back to the metal, not with actual words but instead with my magic, coaxing it, molding it, sculpting it into the exact shape that I wanted.


    A couple of hours later, when I was finished, I looked down at the piece I''d created, examining it from every angle. It was good, certainly better than my other attempts to make this particular shape, but I could do better still. I would do better - for Gin.


    Because she deserved the absolute best in all things, but especially from me.


    I knew what I wanted to do with the shape now, what form I wanted it to take. Phillip had actually given me the idea, with all his talk of flowers, candy, and jewelry tonight. I just hoped that the finished piece would be as meaningful to Gin as it was to me. Either way, I''d spend the next few weeks, maybe even the next few months, working on it. Sketching and resketching. Shaping and reshaping. Forging and reforging until the piece was the best that it could be.


    For her, for Gin.


    The woman I loved, the one I was determined to win back.


    Oh, I knew that I didn''t deserve a second chance with her. Not really, not after everything that I''d done, not after all the ways that I''d hurt her. But damned if I didn''t want one anyway. Maybe that was selfish of me. Maybe Gin would reject me outright. Maybe she''d say that too much had happened and we could never get back what I''d made us lose.


    If so, I wouldn''t like it, but I''d live with it. Just like I''d live with the memories of what Salina had done and how I''d failed to stop her. Jillian''s death. And all the other things that haunted me these days. But penance was about atoning for your sins and trying to make things right. That was all that I could do.


    I just hoped that it would be enough for everyone - Phillip, Cooper, Eva, and especially Gin.


    I reached up and grabbed the horseshoe that I''d hung over the entrance for luck when I''d first built the forge years ago. I replaced the horseshoe with the piece that I''d made tonight, stepped back, and admired it. A small circle surrounded by eight thin rays. Such a simple shape but so powerful at the same time. It looked good hanging there, just like I''d known it would.

 Page 8

    Satisfied, for tonight at least, I made sure that the fire was cold, turned out the lights, and left the forge. I reached the back door of the house and glanced over my shoulder.


    In the distance, moonlight bathed the forge in a soft, silvery light, making Gin''s spider rune wink at me from its new perch. I grinned, winked back, then headed inside to bed.


    My penance had started.