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I wondered what he was seeing - what he was remembering about Salina. The time they'd been together, the things they'd shared, how she'd made him feel when they were alone in the dark, their skin touching, their hands exploring, their bodies arching into each other.
My heart pulsed with jealousy at the thought of them together, but I stayed quiet. Owen hadn't been a virgin any more than I had been when we'd gotten together. We both had pasts - Owen had just seen more of my dark, violent one than I had of his.
He finally sighed. "Ask away. I know you want to. "
"You and Salina?"
He nodded. "Me and Salina. "
"How long ago?"
"A lifetime," he murmured. "Maybe two. "
I waited for him to go on, to talk about how they'd met, the time they'd spent together, or even why they'd broken up. He didn't say anything, but his face, his whole body, was tight and tense with emotion - with pain. Whatever had happened between them, it hadn't ended well. Still, I kept quiet, waiting for Owen to tell me about them in his own way, in his own time. That's what he'd done for me when I'd run into Donovan while on vacation in Blue Marsh. I figured I owed Owen the same courtesy.
He sighed again. "Anyway, it's over, and it has been for a long time now. I hadn't seen or heard from Salina in years . . . "
"Until she left that message at your office last week. "
He nodded. "Right. "
And that would have been about the time Owen had started acting distant and distracted. Ah. Lightbulb finally on, and a bloody little slice on my heart and ego to go along with it. To realize that Owen had been preoccupied because of Salina - and that my lover hadn't told me the first thing about her until forced to tonight. Reunions with old lovers rarely went well, and it seemed like there was more history between the two of them than most. Still, I didn't care too much about Owen's past with Salina, as long as he knew that I was his present - and, most importantly, his future. Something I planned on showing him tonight.
I reached out and trailed my fingers down his face. "Come in?" I asked.
He hesitated. "I really shouldn't. I've got an early meeting tomorrow. "
"I understand," I murmured, keeping my face smooth and hiding the hurt that pricked my heart.
Owen gently reached for my hand and kissed my palm, right in the middle of my spider rune scar. "Rain check?"
"Of course. " This time, I was the one with the faint voice.
Owen hesitated again, then leaned over and pressed his lips to mine - but he pulled back far too soon, like he'd been guessing how long he should maintain the kiss and the allotted time was up. I managed to smile at him, pretending I didn't notice the sudden distance between us, distance that Salina had somehow created just by walking into the restaurant.
I got out of the car and shut the door behind me. Owen put the vehicle in gear and turned it around. He paused to wave good night to me, and I lifted my hand in return. A moment later, the car disappeared down the driveway.
I stood there alone in the dark and wondered who the hell Salina Dubois really was, why she seemed to have such an effect on my lover, and what I was going to do about her. Because this was a matter of the heart - and one problem that all my knives and all my prowess as the Spider wouldn't help me solve.
Chapter 4
Despite my unease and questions about Salina, the next day was business as usual at the Pork Pit, the barbecue restaurant I owned - right down to me checking for booby traps.
It was just before eleven, and I'd spent the last twenty minutes looking at everything in the restaurant storefront, from the well-worn but clean blue and pink vinyl booths to the long counter that ran down the back wall to the framed, blood-spattered copy of Where the Red Fern Grows that hung on the wall beside the cash register. I peered underneath each one of the tables and chairs, examined the front door for any signs of tampering, and checked every single one of the windows for the slightest hint of a crack, chip, or break. I even got down on my hands and knees and followed the paths of the faded, peeling, blue and pink pig tracks on the floor all the way back to the men's and women's restrooms. Then I examined both of those areas top to bottom as well, just to make sure nothing was hidden in a trash can or taped to the back of a toilet.
"Anything?" a harsh voice rasped.
I walked back out into the storefront and looked at the source of the voice: Sophia Deveraux, the dwarf who was the head cook at the Pit and chief Spider-related body dumper. Sophia had sat in one of the booths, calm and cool as could be, while I checked for traps, but she was causing quite a stir on the street outside, as people saw her through the windows and stopped to stare at her.
That's because Sophia was Goth. Today, the dwarf wore her usual black boots and jeans, topped off by a white T-shirt that had a bright red cherry bomb in the center of it - one with a lit fuse. The bomb's scarlet color matched the spiked silverstone collar ringing her neck and the cuffs on her wrists. Her lipstick was as black as her hair, and smoky shadow arched over her dark eyes as well, making her face seem as pale as the moon in comparison.
I eyed the cherry bomb T-shirt, wondering if Sophia had worn it as some sort of joke, given the volatile nature of the Ashland underworld these days. It was hard to tell with her sometimes. The dwarf didn't talk much due to her voice, which had been ruined years ago when she'd been forced to breathe in elemental Fire.
"Anything?" Sophia asked again, sounding like there was a cheese grater scraping against her vocal cords.
"Nope," I replied. "Nobody left us any nasty surprises. So you can go into the alley out back and tell the waitstaff to come on in. "
Sophia nodded, got up, and walked the length of the restaurant before pushing through the swinging double doors that led into the back.
