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"Right here, you son of a bitch. "
Click.
Finn knew that sound as well as I did-the hammer being thumbed back on a revolver. He froze and slowly turned around.
Elliot Slater stepped out from the shadows, flanked by two more giants. A large revolver glinted pale silver in Slater's hand. The long barrel was exactly even with the bridge of Finn's nose. Finn had lowered his gun to his side when he'd kicked the injured giant. No way he could raise it up in time to get a shot off before the giant pulled the trigger on his own weapon and killed him. Finn knew it as well as I did.
"Drop it, pal," Slater rumbled. "Or I'll kill you where you stand. "
Finn's face tightened with rage, keeping up his act, and he slowly leaned forward and put the gun down on the leaf-strewn ground. Slater jerked his head, and one of the other two men rushed forward to pick it up. The fourth man lay moaning on the ground, clutching his shattered knee.
Slater stepped forward, still keeping his gun up. "Well, well, Finnegan Lane. Didn't expect you to show up here tonight. "
Finn shrugged. "I love surprises, don't you?"
Slater eyed him. "I'm not going to ask you what the hell you're doing on my mountain in the middle of the night. Not just yet. We'll save that for when we get back to the mansion. You know, I'd already exhausted my previous entertainment for the evening. But you-you'll do just fine as a replacement. "
Replacement? My stomach tightened. Had the giant already killed Roslyn Phillips? Were we already too late? Had Finn put himself in danger for nothing? I didn't know, and I didn't have time to puzzle it out. Because Elliot Slater stepped forward and slammed his fist into Finn's face. My foster brother crumpled to the ground and was still.
Elliot Slater stood over Finn's body a few seconds to make sure that he wasn't faking his unconscious state. When he was satisfied that Finn was out, Slater crooked a finger at one of his giants.
"Bob, you carry that son of a bitch back down to the mansion and chain him up in the main room. Phil, you stay here and help Henry," he said. "Did you guys see anyone with Lane? Any kind of backup?"
&nbs
p; "No, sir," the one named Phil replied. "We watched to make sure, but it looks like he's alone. "
They hadn't watched quite well enough because they hadn't seen me skulking through the woods. Sloppy, sloppy, sloppy of them. Then again, most folks only looked ahead for danger, not behind them.
The first giant, Bob, moved over to Finn, picked him up by his hair, and slung Finn over his shoulder like he was a wet dish towel. Then Bob set off through the far side of the clearing. Elliot Slater tucked his revolver into the waistband of his pants and followed him. Phil, the second uninjured giant, dropped next to Henry, the man that Finn had shot three times.
Part of me wanted to throw caution to the wind and go charging after Finn. To take Slater down like a wolf would a deer and rescue my foster brother. But the part of me that was the Spider, the cold, hard part that would always be the Spider, knew that was a risky plan at best. Slater and his man would be sure to make some noise, and I didn't know how many more giants were out there waiting for them to return. Besides, Finn had sacrificed himself for me so I could see whether Roslyn was still alive. I wasn't going to ignore his gift.
But that didn't mean I couldn't take care of Phil and Henry, in front of me right now.
Better to pick them off one a time rather than find myself in a situation where I could easily be overrun. As much as it made me want to vomit, I had to leave Finn in Slater's hands for a few minutes.
I scanned the surrounding woods, looking for any sign or sound that indicated that Slater had sent more men into the forest. But I heard nothing but the low groans of Henry, the giant that Finn had shot, as his buddy Phil hoisted him upright and put his arm under the injured man's shoulder, taking the weight off his blown-out knee.
It took Phil a few seconds to turn Henry around and point him back in the direction that the ambush had come from. Which gave me plenty of time to get a better grip on my silverstone knives and slip ahead of them. I waited behind a tree on the far end of the clearing. Once again, I looked and listened, but Slater seemed to be satisfied with his capture of Finn. No more giants came crashing through the underbrush, and all sounds of Slater and Bob, his other man, had vanished, swallowed up by the cold trees. Time for me to get into the game, even if it might already be too late to save Roslyn.
"Come on, buddy," Phil said to the injured man. "It's not so bad. I'll drive you back into the city, and we'll get you fixed up with an Air elemental healer. A couple hours from now, you'll be good as new. "
Henry just moaned. No surprise there. A blown-out knee hurt like nothing else, especially when you had to walk on it.
"Come on now," Phil said again. "Keep it down. You know how Mr. Slater hates whiners. "
At Phil's urging, Henry made some attempt to tone down his whimpering. Too bad. He should have groaned while he had the chance.
The giants' progress was slow, but soon their heavy footsteps approached my hiding place. My hands tightened around the hilt of my knives, and I prepared myself for what was to come. I pushed away all thoughts of Roslyn and Finn and Elliot Slater. All that mattered was the here and now, and taking care of business.
Phil stepped out of the clearing, dragging his buddy alongside him, and walked past me. I let the giants get a couple feet in front of me before I fell in step behind them. Phil was too busy murmuring encouraging words to Henry to hear the whisper of my footsteps on the forest floor. I closed the gap between us. Phil must have seen me move out of the corner of his eye, because his head started to turn in my direction.
And that's when I struck.
My first knife punched into the giant's back, scraping his thick ribs, before I thrust the blade up and into his heart. Sticky, black blood coated my hand like I'd just squeezed a ketchup bottle with all my might. Phil jerked and arched back at the sudden, wrenching pain, opening his mouth to bellow out his anguish. But before he could do that, I drove my foot into the back of his knee as hard as I could. The giant lost his grip on his buddy, who stumbled forward and slammed headfirst into a tree trunk. The already injured Henry let out another low groan of pain and misery.
But I focused my attention on Phil, who'd done his own header into a pile of leaves. He thrashed around, trying to get to his feet even as his body started to shut down from the massive injury that it had just received. By this point, Phil was screaming, but the leaves under his face muffled the sharp sound. Since I wanted to keep it that way, I straddled the fallen giant and put my knees on his back, pinning him on the cold, mossy ground. I dug one hand into his hair, pulling back his head. Phil gulped in a grateful breath, getting ready to scream again.
