(Elemental Assassin 01) Spider's Bite (33 page)

I got up and rummaged through one of the junk drawers in the kitchen until I came up with a magnifying glass. Then I sat back down and used it to go over the picture again.

Instead of the classic string of pearls I’d always seen her with, Alexis James wore a different sort of necklace in the photo. Oh, the slender white cord that encircled her throat still had pearls on it, but there was a large pendant set in the middle of necklace.

A tooth—a large, triangular-shaped tooth done in polished jet.

The tooth was the same as the jet symbol the guy at Finn’s place had worn on a chain around his neck. The same symbol the man at Caine’s cabin had tattooed on his wrist. The Air elemental’s symbol. Her mark. Her calling card. I recognized the rune immediately—and what it really was.

“Son of a bitch,” I said. “A shark’s tooth. The rune is a fucking shark’s tooth.”

Haley James wasn’t the Air elemental. Her sister was. Alexis was the one who’d tortured Fletcher, who’d been on her way to do the same thing to Donovan Caine. Alexis James was the one who’d been pulling the strings of Charles Carlyle and Wayne Stephenson. She was the bitch who’d set up this whole thing.

“What are you muttering about?” Finn asked. “Some of us are trying to concentrate.”

I slapped the photo down on the table and tapped my finger on the necklace. “This—this is what I’m muttering about.”

Both men leaned forward to stare at the picture. They spotted it at the same time.

“Is that—” Finn started.

“That looks like—” Donovan Caine chimed in.

“You bet it is,” I snarled, cutting them both off. “That’s the tooth. The Air elemental’s precious rune. Alexis James is the one running the show, not her sister, Haley.”

We sat there digesting the information. The cold knot of rage in my chest started beating like a clock, a slow, steady countdown to Alexis James’s death.
Tick-fucking-tock
.

“But what about the files? The ones that implicate Haley James?” Donovan Caine asked.

We both looked at Finn.

“Alexis could be using her sister’s log-in information,” Finn said. “Wouldn’t be hard for her to do.”

“Or Haley could be handling the money, while Alexis does the dirty work,” Donovan replied. “Alexis could even be making her steal, threatening her with magic.”

“Doesn’t matter to me either way,” I said. “They’re both going to die.”

Donovan Caine shook his head. “No. You can’t kill Haley James, not if she’s innocent.”

“Her sister’s running around town using her magic to torture people. How innocent do you think Haley is?” I snapped.

The detective’s eyes burned into mine. “Haley James could be as up to her neck in it as Finn is with you. Or she could be as innocent as that little girl playing in her princess castle while her madam of an aunt looked on. Until we know for sure, you can’t touch her. Remember our agreement? No innocent people. This isn’t negotiable, Gin. Not this time.”

“Why? Because she’s not a lowlife hood you’ve busted before?”

“Something like that.”

The detective and I stared at each other. His eyes blazed gold with determination. Cold fury grayed mine out. Neither one of us looked away, and neither one of us was willing to give an inch. Still, despite myself, I liked sparring with the detective. Liked pushing him, liked him pushing back at me. Strength, conviction, and passion were traits I’d always admired, no matter how misguided they were in this case.

“There are other things to consider,” Finn said in a cautious voice.

“Like what?” the detective asked, his eyes still locked on mine.

“Like that photo and bounty on Gin that’s still floating around,” Finn replied. “The fact the elemental wants you dead, detective. And your esteemed police captain, Wayne Stephenson.”

“Stephenson’s mine,” Donovan Caine snapped, his gaze flicking to the other man. “I’ll deal with him myself.”

“How? By turning him in to internal affairs? That’s the most crooked department on the whole force. He’ll just bribe his way out of whatever charge they might bring against him,” Finn replied.

Donovan’s jaw tightened. “I don’t know how yet, but I’ll find a way.”

I sighed. Bickering among ourselves wasn’t getting us anywhere, but I knew from the tone of his voice Finn had something in mind. “What are you proposing?”

Finn smiled and put his arms behind his head. “Leverage.”

“Leverage? How is that going to help us?” the detective asked.

Finn pulled the flash drive out of his laptop and held it up. “Because we’ve got this, and Alexis James doesn’t. Now, Alexis might not be afraid of us, but there is one person she doesn’t want to see this information. At least not yet. Not until she’s finalized her coup de grâce.”

“Mab Monroe,” I said, picking up on his train of thought.

Finn nodded. “Mab Monroe.”

“I still don’t understand how that helps us,” Donovan said.

“Blackmail,” I replied. “We threaten to turn the information over to Mab unless Alexis James backs off and stops trying to kill us.”

“We can also get her to withdraw the reward money on you and convince Wayne Stephenson to take an early retirement,” Finn said. “You have to admit, it’s neat, all the way around.”

He grinned, extremely pleased with himself. I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t disagree with him. Finn had occasional flashes of brilliance and coming up with this kind of compromise was one of them.

“Alexis James is still going to die for what she did to my handler. There will be no argument about that. No threats and no hunting me down after the fact,” I said. “Can you live with that, detective? If so, I can live with the rest of what Finn’s proposing. The bounty on me goes away, you bounce Stephenson out of the department, and we all get on with our lives.”

Donovan Caine’s hazel gaze darkened, and he stared into my gray eyes. After a moment, he nodded his head. “I can live with that. The question is how are we going to do it?”

“Easy,” Finn said. “We sidle up to Alexis in a public place, drop the bomb on her, and wait for her to give in to our demands.”

I shook my head. “Not Alexis, Haley. We go through Haley James.”

Donovan frowned. “Why?”

“Because if she is involved, I get to add her to my list of things to do,” I said. “And if she’s not, well, she can start ducking for cover. That’s what you let innocent people do, right?”

The detective didn’t answer.

“So now all we have to do is find out where the sisters are going to be,” Finn said.

“One step ahead of you.” I pulled out my cell phone and hit another one of the speed dial numbers.

The phone rang four times before she picked it up.

“Do y’all know what time it is?” Jo-Jo Deveraux muttered in my ear, although her slow, syrupy drawl took some of the bite out of her words.

I glanced at the clock on the wall. “It’s Gin, and it’s 3:07. I need some information and possibly a couple of invitations. Think you can handle it?”

Jo-Jo laughed. “For you, darling? Anything.” 

24

At four o’clock the next afternoon, I found myself in the elegant confines of Five Oaks, the snobbiest, most exclusive, and most highfalutin country club in Ashland.

Jo-Jo Deveraux had called earlier in the day with the info I’d needed—the next event on the James sisters’ social calendar. Haley and Alexis, along with five hundred other invited guests, were due to attend an afternoon fund-raiser for a battered-women’s shelter that was being held at the country club. Jo-Jo had pulled a few of her drama mama strings and managed to secure invitations for Donovan Caine and me. Finn had already been invited, given the fact he moved money around for most of those in attendance.

Now I stood in the club’s spacious main ballroom, watching the flow of people and waiting for the James sisters to arrive. Five Oaks was a massive complex of five circular buildings, and the ballroom was in keeping with the grand scale of things. The round room itself was several thousand feet wide and soared four stories into the air. A glass dome formed the ceiling, letting natural light stream down onto the club’s members. Multiple sets of stairs led up to the upper levels, each of which featured a balcony that ringed the entire ballroom.

Floor-to-ceiling glass windows lined the curve of the back wall, along with two large doors that led out onto a wide stone patio. The impressive view showed off the club’s smaller outbuildings, a series of acorn-shaped pools, tennis courts, and the smooth, green expanse, beige sand traps, and tall, colorful flags of the golf course.

People, clustered in small groups, talked, laughed, and sipped mint juleps on the main floor. Some had wandered up to have more private conversations on the second floor balcony. Others had taken their drinks and planted themselves at tables covered with pale peach linens. The country club’s rune—an acorn—was stitched in gold thread in the center of each tablecloth. The event was going to feature a sit-down dinner later, but the booze and bullshit were already flowing.

I spotted several prominent vampires, elementals, dwarves, and giants in the crowd, each one doing their best to make their importance known to everyone else in attendance. But no one shone brighter than Mab Monroe. The Fire elemental looked polished and glamorous in a floor-length canary yellow gown. A fringed shawl covered her bare arms, and the ruby in her sunburst rune necklace flashed against her cleavage. Mab had planted herself in the exact center of the ballroom. People stood three deep around her, jockeying to get a moment of her attention. But Mab’s giant guards for the evening kept the unwanted commoners from getting too close.

The other two members of the triangle of trouble were in attendance as well—Mab’s lawyer, Jonah McAllister, and her enforcer, Elliot Slater. With his silver hair, snazzy suit, and capped teeth, McAllister looked every bit like the smooth talker he was. Slater’s seven-foot figure loomed large over the crowd. A diamond bigger than an eye winked on the giant’s pinkie.

I stood near the back wall, just on the fringes of a group of businessmen dressed in dark suits. A few of them shot me appreciative looks, but the frigid chill in my gray eyes kept them from approaching me. At least until they’d had a few more drinks.

To blend in with the rich folks, I’d donned a simple but elegant black wrap dress Jo-Jo had given me for Christmas last year. The garment was made of a loose-knit material and featured long, billowing sleeves that hid my knives. The material fell to my knees, allowing me to strap two more blades to my thighs. My purse held another knife. Black stilettos covered my feet, and I’d twisted my hair into a high ponytail, complete with two razor-sharp chopsticks.

My cell phone rang, and I plucked it out of my purse. One of the businessmen eyed me.

“My husband,” I said in a pleasant voice. “The giant. Such a protective man. Likes to know where I am all the time—and who I’m with.”

He gulped and turned his attention back to his drink. Evidently I didn’t look fuckable enough to risk tangling with a jealous giant.

I stepped a few feet away from the group of men and opened my phone. “Any sign of them?”

“Not yet,” Donovan Caine replied. “Although Finn seems to be enjoying himself at the bar.”

I looked across the ballroom. After we’d entered the country club, we’d split up. Together, we were too noticeable, too much of a target. It was easier and safer to get lost in the crowd. Finnegan Lane had ensconced himself at the bar just inside the main entrance. Like every other man on the premises, he wore a tailored suit. The classic cut of the navy fabric highlighted Finn’s broad shoulders, while the light filtering through the glass roof made his brown hair gleam. He was currently chatting up a dwarf dripping with diamonds. The woman had to be over four hundred by the looks of her wrinkled skin, rheumy eyes, and snow-white hair. Probably some client of his.

Finn saw me staring. He winked, raised his glass in salute, and went back to his conversation. Very little could distract him when he was working or entertaining a lady—no matter how old she was. Finn might not sleep with the old ones, but he enjoyed charming them as much as he did the young stuff.

“Finn always has a good time at these things,” I murmured. “Sometimes I think he should have been born a woman so he could be a true debutante.”