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"Oh, just go ahead and spill it," I said. "You know you want to tell me every little thing that you know about what's going on with Mab since I didn't manage to kill her last night. "
A pleased, smirking grin spread over Finn's face. "Why, I thought you'd never ask. "
He took another sip of his chicory coffee before he launched into his story.
"So I've had my feelers out all day," he said. "According to my sources, Mab's plenty pissed and some say even scared. Apparently no one's ever gotten that close to putting her lights out for good. "
"Fletcher did train me to be the best," I said in a not-so-humble voice.
Finn saluted me with his mug. "That he did, and that you are. Which is why Mab was so understandably shaken up. Well, that and the fact that you blew that giant's brains out all over her face. Apparently Mab was quite the mess. "
A cold, hard smile curved my lips. Poor little Mab, covered in blood. I only hoped that next time it would actually be her own.
"Anyway," Finn continued, "rumor has it that she's holed up in her mansion. But the weird thing is that she hasn't brought in any more reinforcements. At least, none that I've heard of. "
"What about the people who were there last night? The ones who were having dinner with Mab? Who were they?"
I told my foster brother about everything that had happened, including going up against Ruth Gentry, Sydney, and the other strange characters Mab had invited into her inner sanctum.
"Weird," Finn said. "None of my sources said anything about who the guests were. I'll keep digging and see what I can come up with. "
I nodded. If anyone could find out about those people, it was Finn. My foster brother had more spies in more places at his disposal than the CIA.
Finn had already finished a late lunch of a barbecue pork sandwich, baked beans, and coleslaw, and was ready to move on to dessert. So I dished him up a piece of the strawberry pie that I'd made last night before closing, and topped it off with a big scoop of vanilla bean ice cream. The luscious pie had enough sugar in it to lock a person's jaws and make him lapse into a diabetic coma, but Finn had two pieces. Sometimes I thought that all the chicory coffee in his system made Finn immune to sugar, fat, calories, and all the other things us mere mortals had to deal with.
A few more folks trickled in throughout the afternoon, and Sophia and I whipped up their meals, but the restaurant was quiet for the most part. Not surprising, given the weather. Last night's cold temperatures hadn't warmed up any, which meant that there was still plenty of snow and ice outside, with more on the way. Over the past several days, including today, Catalina Vasquez and the rest of the waitstaff had called in to say that they couldn't make it out of their driveways, much less get to the Pit to work their shifts.
Finn's bank had also closed early today because of the weather so he stuck around and worked his sources while he inhaled a third piece of strawberry pie.
Finn hung up his cell phone. "Okay, now I'm interested. Because nobody I've talked to has any idea who those people were at Mab's mansion. "
"Nobody?" I frowned. "Nobody knows who those people are?"
Finn shrugged. "Whatever Mab's doing, she's kept a lid on that part of it. So far at least. "
I put down the paperback copy of Medea that I'd been reading for the latest class I was taking over at Ashland Community College. Reading during lulls in the action at the Pork Pit was another habit that I'd picked up from Fletcher. Auditing classes at the college was a hobby I'd developed on my own, but one the old man had approved of.
My book forgotten, I leaned against the counter. I had no real reason to think there was anything particularly special about the group of people Mab had been entertaining last night-except that Gentry and her girl, Sydney, had tried to kill me.
No, I decided, that wasn't quite right. Gentry hadn't wanted to kill me-she'd wanted to march me back to Mab so the Fire elemental could do it herself. Sydney, though, had been going for the kill shot, but only after she thought that I was going to stiff Gentry. Still, something about the whole thing just didn't add up, and I couldn't figure out what it might be. Had the people at the dinner been brought to Ashland by Mab as reinforcements for her army of giant bodyguards? As spies? Or something else? I didn't know, but I was willing to bet that my ability to keep on breathing would depend on my finding out the answer-fast.
Finn and I sat there and threw out a few ideas, but neither one of us came up with anything that seemed remotely plausible. I was ready to give up, and Finn was ready to leave to see what else he could dig up from his sources, when the bell over the front door chimed again and my baby sister, Bria, walked into the restaurant.
Chapter 7
Ashland Police Detective Bria Coolidge was a beautiful woman. Or maybe I was just a little biased, since she was my younger sister.
Bria's mane of blond hair, cut into a series of lush, shaggy layers, just skimmed her slim shoulders, while her blue eyes glinted in the soft curves of her face. The frosty air had painted her cheeks a pleasing pink that showed off her skin's perfection. Given the bitter chill outside, Bria wore a long, black wool coat over a pair of black boots, jeans, and a royal blue turtleneck sweater that further brightened her stunning eyes. Her detective's badge glinted a cold gold on her leather belt, right next to the inky blackness of her gun.
My gaze fell to Bria's throat, and the rune necklace hanging there. The one that she always wore-the one I'd never seen her without. A delicate primrose. The symbol for beauty. Bria's rune, the silverstone medallion given to her by our mother, Eira Snow, when she was a little girl. Our older sister, Annabella, had worn an ivy vine around her neck, representing elegance, while our mother's rune had been a snowflake, the symbol for icy calm.
Once upon a time, I'd had a necklace as well-a spider rune, of course. A small circle surrounded by eight thin rays. The symbol for patience. My assassin name. And so much a part of who and what I was.
In a way, I still had my spider rune and, like Bria, never went anywhere without it-because the metal medallion had been melted into my palms by Mab.
The memories of that night swam up in my head and, for a moment, I was back there. Tied down to a chair. Sweat streaming down my face. Choking on the stench of my own charred flesh. The silverstone melting, burning, searing its way into my palms-
My hands tightened into fists, and I felt another piece of metal dig into my skin-a small silverstone ring on my right index finger. The slight sensation was enough to derail my memories, and I dropped my gaze to the ring, latching on to the distraction.
