AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter 13
In the split-second it took me to register the fact that Jonah McAllister and LaFleur were here in the Pork Pit, in my restaurant, in my gin joint, all sorts of scenarios flickered through my mind. Most of them involved my killing the two of them where they stood and helping Sophia dispose of the bodies.
The Goth dwarf had helped Fletcher Lane dispose of bodies for years, and I'd inherited her services when I'd taken over the assassination business from the old man. Sophia had the same Air elemental magic as her sister, Jo-Jo. Except in Sophia's case, she used her power to rip molecules apart, to break them down and tear them into nothingness. All of which was great for getting pesky little things like bloodstains off floors and walls.
My eyes strayed to the two couples still lingering over their food. Sophia and I couldn't take care of McAllister and LaFleur, not in front of four witnesses. Anyway, it was better to see what the dynamic duo actually wanted first before I made my move.
"I've got to go," I told Owen. "I just had a customer walk in the front door. "
"Anyone I know?" he asked.
"Jonah McAllister. And he has the new girl in town with him. "
Silence. I'd told Owen all about LaFleur and what her plans were for me the other night when I'd been at his house.
"Do you need some help, Gin?" Owen asked in a soft voice. "I can be there in ten minutes. "
And this thing might be over with in one, depending on what the two of them wanted and what they knew about me and who I really was. Still, it pleased me that Owen cared enough to come, that he wanted to help me, wanted to stick his neck out for me.
I put my left hand down under the counter out of sight and palmed one of my silverstone knives. The blade was sharp enough to cut through almost anything, including McAllister's inflated ego-and neck.
"No, I think I can handle it. Sophia's here now, and Finn is on his way. Four really would be a crowd," I murmured. "Besides, they're not here to kill me. They want something instead. They wouldn't have come in through the front door otherwise. And if they knew who I really was, they would have brought some of Mab's giants along with them for backup, at the very least. Maybe even Mab herself, if she was in the mood to watch. "
More silence.
"Will I see you tonight then?" Owen asked. "When it's over?"
"Probably not. I have a feeling that I'm going to be busy. "
Owen blew out a tense breath. "All right. Just-be careful. And call me later, okay?"
"Okay," I said and hung up.
Jonah McAllister's brown eyes flicked over the store-front, and his lip curled up into a faint sneer, the way it always did when he came in here. With its simple, blue and pink vinyl booths, the Pork Pit wasn't exactly the expensive, elegant, highfalutin joint McAllister was used to dining in. I doubted that he ever went anywhere where the floor was covered with pig tracks done in peeling blue and pink paint, respectively, that led to the men's and women's restrooms.
Still, the lawyer carefully examined everything before his eyes slid to me standing behind the cash register, which sat on top of a long counter running down the back wall. To my left, a bloody framed copy of Where the Red Fern Grows decorated the wall, along with a picture of Fletcher Lane in his younger years. Both were mementoes of Fletcher that I kept in his restaurant as a tribute to the old man.
McAllister drew off first one of his black leather gloves, then the other, tucking them into the pocket of his long coat before striding toward me. His walk was just as slick and smooth as everything else about him, designed to impress and intimidate at the same time.
"Jonah McAllister," I drawled, still holding my silverstone knife out of sight below the counter. "To what do I owe this honor?"
McAllister gave me a cold, thin smile that didn't even come close to stretching his tight features or reaching his brown eyes. "Gin Blanco. So lovely to see you again. As for what I want, well, I thought that I'd show my lady friend here some of the sights of Ashland. She's new in town and trying to get the lay of the land, so to speak. "
LaFleur stepped up next to McAllister, and I got my first close-up look at the assassin. She wore a pair of tight, black leather pants, topped with an expensive flowing silk shirt done in a dark green. Thin ribbons laced up the front of the shirt, giving it a bit of old-fashioned elegance. A matching green pea coat completed the stylish ensemble, along with a pair of black stiletto boots. A headband made of emeralds kept her short, black hair back off her face. An expensive bauble. I could tell that the gems were real and not just glass, because I could hear the stones whispering of their own proud beauty. A smug, arrogant sound that perfectly matched what I knew of their owner.
LaFleur had a heart-shaped face that was almost as beautiful as Roslyn's. The assassin's skin was as smooth and pale as marble-perfectly flawless. Her eyes were a bright, vivid green-the same color as the lightning that I'd seen her use to blast the dwarf on the docks the other night. Even now, her electrical magic sparked in the depths of her green gaze. Just a hint of elemental power surrounded her, the kind of faint static charge that you felt in the air right before a lightning storm, but it still made the silverstone embedded in my hands itch and burn.
As for her figure, LaFleur was petite, with a trim, athletic build. She might be thin, but there was a lean, coiled strength to her body that her expensive clothes just couldn't hide.
But the most curious thing about her was the tattoo.
It started at the hollow of her throat as a simple vine that curled up her neck until it unfurled into a single, perfect orchid. The faintest hints of green, peach, and cream-white inked in the tattoo. The artistry was exquisite in its detail, and given the petal-soft quality of LaFleur's skin, it was almost like looking at a real flower. The steady thump of her pulse in her throat made the orchid's leaves and petals twitch ever so slightly, like it was constantly blossoming.
Well, it looked as if Fletcher had been right about LaFleur's having some sort of tattoo. And now that I'd seen it, I knew that it was even more than that. The orchid was also LaFleur's rune, the symbol for delicate grace. That's why she always left a single white orchid behind at the scene of her kills. Because it was her mark, just the way my spider rune was to me, or Mab Monroe's sunburst necklace was to her. LaFleur left an actual flower behind instead of just drawing the complicated rune somewhere. Maybe she didn't have the artistic skill to re-create the rune, or maybe she just didn't want to take the time. After all, most assassins didn't stick around too long after their hits. That was a good way to get caught or get dead.
Still, something about the orchid tattoo bothered me. Maybe it was the way it was placed on her neck, how it curled up her skin, but I knew that I'd seen one like it somewhere before. On someone that I'd killed before-
"It's so nice to meet you, Gin," the assassin said, interrupting my thoughts. Her voice was lower than I thought it would be, with a faintly sibilant, seductive tone. "I'm Elektra LaFleur. "
