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The Fire elemental stared at one person after another, daring anyone to challenge her phony words. After a few seconds, all but the bravest souls dropped their eyes from Mab's and went back to whatever they'd been doing before. Talking, drinking, gambling. Slowly, the noise level returned to normal. Mab pulled Slater toward the back of the deck, where Jonah McAllister stood. The three of them put their heads together and started talking to each other once more.
I waited, but Slater made no move toward the gangplank, and he didn't summon over any of his men to go chasing after Roslyn. Well, that was something at least.
I tucked my silverstone knife back up my sleeve and turned to Owen Grayson. The businessman's eyes were dark and hooded, and I didn't feel like reading the emotions swimming in the depths of his gaze. Time enough for that later. Right now, there was only one thing to do.
"C'mon. Let's get out of here," I whispered to Owen.
He stared at me a moment before replying with a single word. "Gladly. "
Chapter Eighteen
Owen and I walked down the gangplank. After the heated crush of people on board the riverboat, the night air felt cold and empty. Or perhaps that was just my heart after seeing Roslyn Phillips's raw, naked pain. Only one thing was for sure-Elliot Slater was going to die. The giant would never put his hands on Roslyn-or anyone else-ever again. I'd make certain of that.
I might have moonlighted as an assassin for years, but despite popular misconceptions, I'd never taken any great pleasure in killing people. To me, it had been a job, just like any other. Something I'd been good at, no matter how twisted and wrong and evil it might have been. But this time, this time, I was going to enjoy gutting Elliot
Slater. Going to enjoy ripping into him, carving his heart out of his chest, and making him watch while I squished the black, bloody organ between my fingers. Maybe I'd even take a few pictures for Roslyn. The vamp could use them on her Christmas cards this year. Happy holidays.
Owen and I stepped off the gangplank and onto the riverside boardwalk.
"My car's this way," Owen said, heading toward the parking lot where Finn had left his Aston Martin.
I walked by his side, scanning the shadows. The iron street lamps did little to drive back the darkness, and the parking lots stretched out before us like the thick gray slabs you might find on top of graveyard tombs. A few other couples had decided to leave the riverboat soiree early as well, and they waited in small clusters for the tuxedo-clad valets to retrieve their vehicles or for their limos to pull up near the gangplank entrance.
I looked for Xavier, but I didn't see him lurking around anywhere. The giant should have been long gone if he'd followed my instructions. I did, however, spot Roslyn. The vampire had stopped running and stood about a hundred feet ahead of us on the boardwalk. Beyond her, in the parking lot, I saw the headlights flicker on Finn's Aston Martin, signaling her. Roslyn hugged her arms to her chest and walked toward the silver sports car, weaving her way around the other vehicles in the lot.
A scuffle sounded, and loud footsteps clacked on the boardwalk behind us in a rapid rush. Someone was running toward us. I looked over my shoulder to see who it was. Her ice-blue dress whipped around her legs, and the silverstone primrose rune bounced up and down against her throat with every stride she took. My sister just didn't know when to leave well enough alone.
Owen heard the footsteps too. He turned, saw Bria running toward us, and pulled me to one side, out of her way. Bria sprinted past us. Up ahead, Roslyn reached Finn's car, opened the door, and got inside. A moment later, Finn steered the vehicle out the far side of the lot, away from the pursuing Bria.
Baby sister realized that the vampire had gotten away from her. She slowed to a stop and smacked her hand against the closest street lamp. "Fuck!"
She turned around and saw Owen and me standing on the boardwalk staring at her. Bria reversed direction and hurried our way, her heels spiking into the wood one step at a time. Bria reached into the small purse whose strap she'd looped over her shoulder and pulled out her badge. The gold gleamed like an old coin in the lamplight.
"Detective Bria Coolidge," she announced. "Did the woman in the red dress speak to you? Did she say where she was going?"
I tightened my hand on Owen's arm in a warning. He looked at me and nodded. He was going to go along with whatever I said. Smart man. He might just live through the evening.
I looked at Bria. "She didn't say anything to us. I have no idea where she went. "
Bria must have recognized my voice because she frowned and peered closer at me. She studied my face for several seconds, before her gaze flicked down my dress, then slid over to Owen Grayson. I could almost see the wheels spinning in her mind as she tried to figure out what I'd been doing on board the riverboat.
"Ms. Blanco," Bria said. "This is the second time we've run into each other today. "
"Detective Coolidge," I replied. "You look lovely. That color really brings out your baby blues. "
Bria's mouth tightened, as she tried to decide whether or not I was being sincere. "Who's your friend?" she asked.
Owen stepped forward and extended his hand. "Owen Grayson. Gin's date for the evening. It's a pleasure, detective. "
If Owen wanted to keep up the charade of pretending to be my date, fine with me. It gave me a plausible reason to be here in the mix tonight.
Bria shook his hand, then turned her attention back to me. "You don't know where Roslyn Phillips went? I find that hard to believe, Ms. Blanco. Especially since she was at your restaurant earlier today. The two of you seemed quite cozy then. "
I shrugged. "Lots of people eat at my restaurant, detective. The food happens to be excellent. You should come try it for yourself sometime. I'll fix you a barbecue sandwich so good, it will make you slap your mama. "
I said the words without thinking, in the joking sort of way I had to so many other people over the years whenever I was boasting about the Pork Pit. But I knew I'd made a mistake the second they were out, because Bria's face went cold and blank. Of course it would. Mine would have too.
"My mother's dead. "
