Widow's Web

17

Breakfast the next morning was a tense, quiet affair.

I made chocolate chip pancakes, smoked maple bacon, cheesy scrambled eggs, whole wheat toast with homemade apple butter, and a sparkling grapefruit punch for Eva and Owen. We gathered around the wooden table in the nook that branched off the kitchen.

The three of us ate in silence, except for the rattle of our dishes and polite mutters to ask someone to please pass the bacon. For the most part, Eva ignored Owen’s attempts to talk to her. I kept my thoughts to myself, not wanting to sink any deeper into the sibling quicksand. I was already up to my neck in it.

We finished breakfast and split up. Owen had to get to his office, Eva had to get to class, and I had to get to the Pork Pit.

“I’ll come by for a late lunch today, and we can talk some more. Okay?” Owen asked as we stood on the front porch. The morning sunlight highlighted the faint bruise around his eye from his fight with Kincaid.

I nodded, not sure what to say to him, not sure what I could say without making things worse. We kissed goodbye; then he got into his car, with Eva already sulking in the passenger seat. She gave me a pointed look through the window, and I knew she was thinking about the promise I’d made to her last night. That look did not make me feel better about anything.

I waved at Owen as he put the car in gear and steered it down the driveway, but my hand dropped to my side the second the vehicle was out of sight, and I started brooding once more. I was just about to go back inside and finish getting ready for work when I heard a car churning through the gravel at the bottom of the ridge.

I paused, wondering if Owen had forgotten something and returned, but instead, a familiar sedan appeared at the top of the driveway. The car stopped, and Bria slid out of the driver’s seat. She was wearing sensible black boots and a pair of dark jeans topped by a white, button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Her gun was clipped to her belt, along with her gold detective’s badge. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and the silverstone primrose rune around her throat glinted in the sun as she walked across the yard.

“Hey, there, baby sister,” I said, leaning against the porch railing. “What brings you up here so early?”

Bria smiled at my warm, easy greeting, but her blue eyes were serious. “I thought you’d want to know about the chat I had with Salina Dubois this morning.”

I nodded. “Well, come on in then. No use delving into the unpleasant on an empty stomach.”

I led Bria back into the kitchen and warmed a plate of food for her. In between bites, she told me how she and Xavier had spent the night tracking down Salina. It hadn’t been hard, since Salina hadn’t made any attempt to hide. Instead, the water elemental had been ensconced in bed at her family’s mansion when Bria had come knocking on her door in the wee hours of the morning.

“You should have seen her, Gin,” Bria said. “She floated down the stairs like she was Scarlet O’Hara on her way to a debutante dance—despite the fact she was wearing a blue silk negligee instead of a ball gown.”

I thought of the way Salina had strolled into Underwood’s and caught the attention of everyone there. “That sounds like her. What did she say?”

“Well, first of all, she just had to offer us some hot tea and coffee,” Bria said. “She even woke up her personal chef and had the poor man fix us strawberry scones and cucumber sandwiches.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not kidding you. Strawberry scones and cucumber sandwiches at three in the morning, as if we were having a nice little garden luncheon instead of talking about a murder.” Bria snorted. “And when we did finally get around to discussing Antonio, she was nothing but sympathy and alibis.”

“What alibis?”

Bria shrugged. “That she’d been home all evening, that her giant bodyguards would vouch for her, all the usual. She also went on and on about what a horrible thing it must have been, a man being murdered in such a brutal fashion. She shuddered and everything. It was all very ladylike.”

“Sounds like you weren’t impressed.”

Bria shook her head. “On the contrary, I was extremely impressed by her. She was just as calm and cool as could be, no matter what I asked her. And believe me, I asked her everything, trying to rattle her. The only time she showed any emotion besides polite grace was when I mentioned that Kincaid wasn’t dead. Even then, she wasn’t scared of me and Xavier realizing she was behind the attack on him. More like pissed off—seriously pissed off. As if Kincaid surviving her attack was some sort of personal affront to her. But even that tiny bit of rage was there for just a split second before she smiled at us again and asked if we wanted another scone.”

While Bria finished her breakfast, I showed her the file of information on Salina that Finn had given to me and the one I’d found on her father’s murder in Fletcher’s office. I washed the dishes while she read through the information, including the guest list of everyone who’d been there that night.

“Creepy how much all her dead husbands look like Owen,” my sister said.

“You’re telling me. And that’s not even the worst of it.”

I sat down at the table across from Bria, finally getting to the thing that was troubling me the most. I told my sister what both Owen and Eva had told me about their history with Kincaid and Salina, and how Eva had slipped into my bedroom and begged me to kill the water elemental for her.

Bria was quiet for a few minutes, thinking, before she raised her eyes to mine. “So what are you going to do?”

I shrugged. “I have no idea. By all accounts, Salina is a dangerous elemental who has no qualms about using her magic to hurt and kill people. Then again, so am I. But she’s back in Ashland for a reason, at least according to Kincaid, and I’m going to find out what it is.”

“And then . . .”

I shrugged again. “And then I still don’t know.”

Bria hesitated. “I know we don’t always see eye to eye, especially when it comes to things like this and what to do about the bad guys, but if you need me for anything, you let me know. Even if it’s just to talk. And if you feel like you have to take Salina out to protect Eva and Owen, then go ahead and do it, and I’ll help you clean up the mess.”

I reached over and squeezed her hand, grateful that she was willing to work with me on this. Not too long ago, I’d thought I was losing Bria for good because of my activities as the Spider, and it was nice that we seemed to be on the same wavelength—for once.

“I appreciate that. Really, I do, but I have to ask why you’re being so accommodating on this. Usually you’re the one who tells me to hold back and let the law take its course.”

Bria stared at me, her face serious once more. “I’ve met a lot of bad guys over the years, seen a lot of bad things. Usually I can peg people pretty quickly. How dangerous they are, the things they’re capable of, what they’ll do if you back them into a corner. But Salina . . . she’s different.”

“Different how?”

“It’s hard to explain,” Bria said. “On the surface, she seems to be the very epitome of a sweet Southern belle with her tea and scones, even at three in the morning.”

“And under the surface?”

Bria’s eyes locked with mine. “Unless I’m mistaken, Salina Dubois is one of the most dangerous people I’ve met in a long, long time.”

Bria promised to check in with me if she found out anything else. I did the same, and my sister got in her sedan and headed back to the police station, taking with her the guest list and Fletcher’s folder of information to pass along to Finn, since the two of them were supposed to meet for lunch.

Thirty minutes later, I was in the storefront of the Pork Pit, doing my usual check of the restaurant. Tables, chairs, doors, windows. Thankfully, no one had broken in overnight, and nothing was out of place. I didn’t need any more problems to deal with today than the ones I already had—especially since I couldn’t stop thinking about Owen and Salina.

I loved Owen, but hearing him talk about Salina last night, hearing him tell me that he’d once been in love enough with her to actually want to marry and spend the rest of his life with her, well, it had jarred me a little more than I’d let on—and a whole hell of a lot more than I’d wanted it to.

I didn’t begrudge Owen his past relationships, his past lovers, his past emotions, but I got the impression there was something different about Salina—something he couldn’t admit to himself even now. I didn’t think he had really let go. Salina had left town so abruptly, so mysteriously, that Owen hadn’t gotten any more closure than I had when Donovan had hightailed it out of Ashland. Sometimes Owen and I were far too alike for the other’s good.

But the hours ticked by, and customers came and went with no signs of trouble, and I was slowly able to lose myself in the rhythms of the restaurant, in the mixing, stirring, and baking that helped soothe me when I needed it the most. And I definitely needed some soothing today.

I might be a woman worried about her lover’s ex, but most of all, I was still the Spider. So I did my due diligence and checked in with Finn. He’d gotten Fletcher’s folder of information from Bria and was now hot on the trail of some rumor about the water elemental poaching giants from the other crime bosses to build up the ranks of her own fledgling criminal enterprise. He hadn’t been able to verify anything yet, but if Salina was doing that, it confirmed my theory that she was back in town for more than just revenge on Kincaid. It would also indicate that she’d been planning her return to Ashland for a while now, that maybe she’d been back in town even before she’d killed Katarina Arkadi a few days ago. Whatever Salina was up to, Finn would figure out what it was, and then I could decide how to act on the information—and whether or not she needed to get dead.

Part of me wanted to just go ahead and kill her for the horrible way she’d tortured Eva all those years ago. She certainly deserved it; if it had been anyone else I would have already been happily plotting her demise. But two things were stopping me. One was how Owen’s face had softened when he’d talked about her last night. The other was my own memory of her frantic screams as she’d watched her father being burned to death.

Seeing her father brutally murdered by Mab right in front of her, being forced to fend for herself after that, trying to create a new life, a new family, threatening and killing anyone who did her wrong or got in her way. The irony was as sharp and pointed as one of my own knives twisting into my gut. Because in many ways, Salina and I were quite alike—right down to how ruthless we were with our enemies.

Those were the thoughts that occupied me through the lunch rush, but the day wasn’t all doom and gloom, especially since Roslyn Phillips came in around two o’clock.

Roslyn was simply one of the most gorgeous women—inside and out—that I’d ever had the pleasure of knowing. When the vampire stepped into the restaurant, every eye, male and female, turned in her direction. The men were lustful, the women envious. I had a little envy myself when it came to Roslyn. Her toffee-colored skin was as flawless as could be, and smoky black shadow rimmed her eyes, making them seem just a shade darker than her skin. Today, the vampire madam wore a black sundress with white polka dots, along with strappy black sandals with small kitten heels. The simple cut of the gown highlighted the perfection of her body and her generous curves. A glossy white headband held back her black hair, and her red lips formed a perfect heart in her face. Roslyn looked like she’d just stepped out of some old Hollywood movie—she was just that glamorous.

Roslyn smiled and headed in my direction. Putting her white clutch on the counter, she took the seat closest to the cash register that I was perched behind. She eyed the book in my hand.

“What are you reading now, Gin?”

I held up the cover where she could see it. “Little Women by Louisa May Alcott. For my next literature class.”

“I approve. That’s one of my favorites.”

I arched an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you liked to read, Roslyn. Why, we’ll have to start ourselves a little book club.”

The vampire chuckled, showing off her small, perfect fangs. “Oh, I doubt I could keep up with you when it comes to that.”

I used one of the day’s credit card receipts to mark my place in the book. “So what will it be?”

Roslyn ordered her usual grilled cheese and water. Despite her protests, I also gave her some of the chocolate chip cookies I’d baked fresh that morning. We talked back and forth over the counter while I helped Sophia fix her food. Roslyn sank her teeth into the grilled cheese with relish, and she even ate two of the cookies.

Finally, the vamp finished her food and pushed her empty plates away, then met my eyes. “Xavier told me what happened last night on the Delta Queen.”

I nodded. I’d expected nothing less; she and Xavier had been a couple for some time now.

She stared off into space, a thoughtful look on her face. “You know, it doesn’t surprise me that Salina finally came back to town.”

I frowned. “You know Salina Dubois?”

Roslyn hesitated. “No, not Salina. But I knew her father, Benedict. Once Xavier told me what happened and that you were involved, I thought I’d come by and tell you what I knew about him. Salina’s mother died when she was young, and Benedict was often . . . eager for female company. I was one of his favorites for years, right up until I started Northern Aggression.”

Before she’d opened her nightclub, Roslyn had spent years working as a hooker in Southtown, like so many other vampires in Ashland did. All vamps needed blood to live, but lots of them also got a high off having sex or even other people’s emotions. For those folks, doing the deed gave them the same sort of enhanced senses, increased strength, and quickened reflexes that other vamps got from downing a pint of O-positive. Thus, the number of vampires involved in Ashland’s skin trade. Why not get laid, paid, and powered up all at the same time? And since vamps could walk around in the sunlight just like the rest of us, you didn’t even have to wait until dark to get your freak on. All you had to do was walk down the Southtown streets any time—day or night—and you’d find at least one vampire hooker looking for a client, and her pimp waiting in the wings to beat you to death if you didn’t pay up promptly for services rendered.

“So what can you tell me about Benedict?”

Roslyn shrugged. “Other than his sexual preferences, not much. He was just another wiseguy who thought he was stronger than he really was. An Ice elemental.”

“At least until Mab put him in his place for that mistake.”

Roslyn nodded. “That she did.”

I asked the vamp a few more questions about Benedict, but she didn’t know anything else about the old mob boss. Still, I appreciated her coming by, and I gave her my thanks.

She nodded. “So what are you going to do now? About Salina?”

“It’s . . . complicated.”

She grinned. “Most things are when it comes to you, Gin. But I’m a good listener, if you need someone to talk to.”

This was the second time today someone had offered me her ear, which was something of a new experience for me. Assassins aren’t naturally in the habit of spilling their guts to just anyone, and Fletcher had always taught me to keep my emotions bottled up tight. Hell, I’d never even had a real girlfriend before, someone I could talk to about such things. Oh, I knew I could tell Jo-Jo anything, but she was more like a mother to me than anything else. Sophia would listen to what I had to say, but she wouldn’t say much in return. Sure, Bria was my sister, but we were still getting to know each other, still working on our relationship. The truth was that Roslyn was the closest thing I had to a female confidant, so I told her about all the bombshells that had been dropped on me last night, including the fact that Salina had been Owen’s fiancée.

When I finished, Roslyn let out a soft whistle.

I grimaced. “Now you sound like Finn. All he did was whistle last night. You’d have thought there was a train in the room—one that just kept running over me. Splat, splat, splat.”

Roslyn let out a soft laugh before her face turned serious once more. “I don’t know what to tell you to do about Owen, but you need to be careful with Salina. I know you’ve been up against a lot of dangerous folks, but she’s something else, Gin.”

First Kincaid, then Eva and Bria, and now Roslyn. It seemed like everyone was on the Salina-is-dangerous bandwagon but Owen.

“How so? Besides the fact that she uses her water magic to come up with new and creative ways to very painfully kill people?”

Roslyn raised her eyebrows. “Well, there’s her history with Owen. Anybody would feel a little threatened by that. But don’t let Salina get in your head. If she does that, she’s halfway to getting what she wants.”

I shrugged. I couldn’t deny that I was worried about Owen’s past with Salina, but Roslyn was right. I needed to be calm and in control of my emotions now more than ever.

The vamp hesitated. “As to why else I think you should be careful around her, well, it’s hard to explain exactly. Just more of a feeling I had about her. From what I remember, Salina had her daddy wrapped around her little finger. Benedict would have done anything for her, as would every other man around her.”

I grinned. “I could say the same thing about you. You bat your eyes, and men get all weak-kneed and tonguetied. Women too. Crook your finger at them, and half of them keel over from shock and awe.”

Roslyn smiled at my compliment, but she shook her head. “Maybe, but I don’t use it like Salina did. She knew how beautiful she was, and she used it to get exactly what she wanted exactly when she wanted it. But on the rare occasions that didn’t happen, she became . . . cruel. I remember seeing her out in the gardens at the Dubois estate one time. The gardener had been pruning the roses, and he accidentally cut one branch too many. Salina saw him, of course, and she went over to talk to him. She never raised her voice, and she never said anything that was unkind—on the surface, anyway—but by the time she was done, the poor man was in tears. He apologized to her over and over again, like it was all his fault that she was so disappointed in him. And all because he hadn’t trimmed the roses back exactly the way she’d wanted. Like I said, just . . . cruel.”

Cruel. It was such a simple word, but I thought it described Salina perfectly, given what I’d seen her do to Antonio. Elemental magic was never a fun way to die, but having all the water pulled out of your body and your eyes popped out of your skull for an extra thrill, well, that was a little extreme—even by Ashland standards, where elemental duels were common.

“Cruel,” I said. “Got it.”

Roslyn opened her mouth to say something else, but the bell over the front door chimed, indicating that I had a new customer.

And just like that, Salina Dubois herself strolled into the Pork Pit.