Widow’s Web (Elemental Assassin #7)

Widow’s Web (Elemental Assassin #7) Page 8

She sighed and ran a hand through her blond hair, making it frizz out a little more. "I'm not supposed to say anything."

"I know this is going to make me sound like somebody's mom, but right now, I don't fucking care. You either tell me what you know, Violet, or I'm going to call your grandfather and tell him that you've been keeping company with one of Ashland's most notorious crime lords. Somehow, I don't think Warren will like that."

I might have been the Spider, might have been one of the scariest folks in Ashland, but even I couldn't hold a candle to the force of nature that was Warren T. Fox. The old coot was just as tough as I was, and he wouldn't hesitate to give Violet a severe tongue-lashing for hanging out with Kincaid. Maybe it was judgmental of me, thinking the casino boss was such a bad guy when I was an assassin myself, but I would never hurt Violet. I'd do everything in my power to protect her, just like I had in the past when she'd been threatened. And I'd do the same for Eva. I wondered what Owen was going to make of his sister's friendship with Kincaid - and the fact she'd witnessed such a brutal murder because of that association.

Violet sighed again, knowing she was beaten. "It was a fluke, really. Eva and I were out shopping a couple of weeks ago over in Northtown, and we ran into Phillip."

Northtown was the uppity part of Ashland, where the yuppies and all the other folks with money, power, influence, and magic to spare lived. The area was full of themed shopping developments and exclusive, trendy restaurants designed to cater to folks with expensive tastes and help them spend as much of their money as quickly as possible.

Violet drew in a breath. "Anyway, we'd finished shopping, and we'd decided to get coffee and dessert in this cafe. Eva saw Phillip sitting by himself having an espresso and insisted that we go over to him. I thought she was out of her mind, wanting to talk to someone like him, but he actually smiled at her, like she was a friend he hadn't seen in a long, long time. The two of them started talking, and one thing just sort of led to another - "

"Until we all wound up on the riverboat tonight," I finished.

Violet nodded.

I looked at Kincaid, who was still murmuring to Eva. Whatever he was saying was working, because her sobs had died down to faint sniffles.

"How does Kincaid even know Eva to start with?"

"Eva's been sort of . . . vague on the details. She just said that she knew him from when she and Owen were living on the streets."

Well, well, well, the surprises just kept coming and coming tonight, and my eyebrows shot up once again. If they kept doing that, there were going to get permanently stuck there.

Violet's words made me once again think about Mab's funeral back in early March. The whole underworld had turned out for the service, and everyone had been looking at and speculating about me and my role in the Fire elemental's death. Kincaid had gone so far as to smile at me that day, which had been strange enough, but I'd also seen him talking to Owen after the service was over. I'd been distracted by other things - namely, the dwarves who'd tried to kill me at Mab's coffin - and I hadn't thought much of it at the time. Owen had brushed off my questions, saying that the two of them had just been exchanging idle chitchat, but it was clear there was more between them than I'd ever suspected.

"And let me guess," I said, looking at Violet again. "Eva told you not to mention Kincaid to me. And, I'm guessing, especially not to Owen."

A guilty look filled her dark brown eyes, which was all the confirmation I needed.

Kincaid drew back from Eva and whispered something into her ear. She wiped the tears off her cheeks and nodded. I scanned the rest of the deck, taking in the kids, the giants, the ruined remains of the fund-raiser, and the body sprawled in the middle of it all.

What a fucking mess. But there was nothing to do now but deal with it - starting with Eva.

I pulled my cell phone out of my jeans pocket and called Owen. He answered on the third ring.

"Hey," his low, sexy voice rumbled in my ear. "Done with your catering job already?"

I stared at Antonio's still-wet wing tip peeking out from underneath the tablecloth. "You might say that."

"Where did you say it was again?"

I hesitated. Eva wasn't the only one who'd keeping secrets. I hadn't told my lover that I was catering an event for Kincaid. I hadn't been sure what game Kincaid had been playing, and I hadn't wanted him to worry. Besides, Owen and I hadn't seen much of each other these past few days, except for when he'd come to the Pork Pit for a quick lunch.

We'd both been busy with work, but that wasn't really the problem. Ever since our dinner at Underwood's, there had been this distance between us. I kept waiting for him to open up about what was bothering him, to tell me about Salina and all the ghosts she'd brought back to Ashland with her, but Owen hadn't said a word about her. Now, that awkward talk had morphed into a necessity - for all sorts of reasons.

"Gin? Are you still there?"

"Yes, I'm still here." I drew in a breath. "I'm on the Delta Queen, and Eva's here with me. She's fine, but there was an . . . incident. Someone tried to kill Phillip Kincaid."

Silence. Then -

"I'll be there just as quick as I can," Owen said, his voice as cold, dark, and furious as I'd ever heard it. "Whatever you do, you keep Eva away from Phillip. The man is dangerous - more dangerous than you know. Promise me that you'll keep her safe from him - and keep yourself safe, too."

"Of course, I'll protect Eva. You don't have to worry about that, but what - "

I didn't get a chance to ask my question. My lover had already hung up on me.

While I waited for Owen to arrive, I made a few other calls. I dialed Finn and let him know what had happened, and I also phoned Jo-Jo Deveraux as well. I wasn't injured, so I wouldn't need the dwarf's Air magic to heal me, but I still wanted her in the loop. Because whatever was going on with Kincaid and the water elemental, I was smack-dab in the middle of it now - and I had a suspicion that Owen was too.

I'd just hung up with Jo-Jo when Kincaid led Eva over to where I was standing with Violet and Sophia. Violet hugged her friend, and the two girls started whispering. Kincaid turned his gaze to me.

"We need to talk," he said. "In private."

"Why, I thought you'd never ask, sugar," I drawled. "Sophia, would you please stay here and make sure Eva and Violet are okay?"

The dwarf grunted, letting me know she was there for me.

Kincaid jerked his head. "My office is this way."

I followed him through the doors and into the ballroom. The crimson curtains were drawn across the stage, and the lights on the balconies above our heads were dim, since there weren't any shows scheduled for tonight. Kincaid strode down the center aisle of the ballroom, then went over to a side door and punched in a code on a keypad. The door opened, and we walked down a flight of narrow stairs. The lower two decks of the riverboat were enclosed and housed the cages where the money and chips were counted on an hourly basis.

I let Kincaid go first and put my feet down exactly where he did, just in case there were any trip-wires or magical runes hidden on or underneath the stairs. I certainly would have rigged up a few, given how much cash came through this place every day.

We made it down to the second deck without any problems, and Kincaid led me to a thick wooden door at the end of a long hallway. I eyed the wide silverstone strips that crisscrossed the wood and surrounding walls. Not nearly as sturdy as the granite and silverstone door on Fletcher's house, but it would still be tough to try and pound your way through, even for a giant or a dwarf.

Kincaid punched in another code on the keypad on the wall, opened the door, and stepped inside. I followed him and shut the door behind me. No sense in leaving it open and my back exposed. Besides, Kincaid had said he wanted to talk in private, and so did I - because depending on what he said, the casino boss might not be leaving the room alive.

The office was exactly what I expected it to be - the inner sanctum of an underworld figure with a lot of money, power, and influence. The antique desk in the back of the room was expensive, but functional, while the laptops, monitors, and phones atop it were the best money could buy. Dark blue cushioned chairs crouched in front of a high-end flat-screen TV mounted on one wall, while a wet bar off to one side held every kind of pricey booze you could ever want to drink.

Yes, Kincaid's office was exactly what I expected - except for the toys.

Apparently, Kincaid was something of a movie buff. Lots of posters of classic and popular films decorated the walls, everything from Casablanca to Casino Royale. A couple of glass curio cabinets held action figures, both plastic ones and more costly stone molds of superheroes and other fantasy characters. Stacks of DVDs filled a bookcase, while popcorn and cotton-candy machines stood guard on either side of it.

Underworld figure. Casino boss. Geek.

Kincaid walked over to the bar and poured himself a shot of whiskey, which he threw back. I moved so that I was standing at the other end of the bar, close to him but still able to see the door at the same time.

"Care for a drink?" he asked, pouring himself another shot. "Because I plan on having several."

"Need a little liquid courage after Antonio?"

Kincaid shrugged. "Don't you?"

This time, I shrugged. He downed another shot, then grabbed a bottle of gin, along with some ice and a lime. His movements were quick and efficient, and a minute later, he plunked a gin and tonic down on the bar.

"Gin for Gin, right?" Kincaid said. "My sources tell me it's your drink of choice and that you even introduce yourself to people by comparing yourself to it. What is it you say? Gin, like the liquor. A bit cliche, don't you think?"

"Mmm." I made a noncommittal sound. "And what else do your sources say about me?"

He started working on his own gin and tonic. "Lots of things. Everyone in Ashland knows you as Gin Blanco, owner of the Pork Pit barbecue restaurant, but your real name is Genevieve Snow. Quite a tragic backstory you have. Mab Monroe murdered your mother, Eira, and your older sister, Annabella, when you were thirteen. Apparently, Mab and your mother had been enemies for years, which is one of the reasons why she decided to kill your whole family. Or tried to, anyway, since you somehow miraculously survived. Reports are sketchy as to exactly how you managed that, much less got your younger sister, Bria, away from Mab before she burned your family's mansion to the ground."

He didn't have all the details exactly right, but the broad strokes were correct. Looked like Kincaid had the same sort of sources Finn did. Worrisome, to say the least. I had enough people coming after me without Kincaid throwing his hat into the ring.

He finished mixing his drink, but instead of slugging it down like he had the others, he cradled it in his hands and stared at me. "Of course, we both know you're more than just a simple restaurant owner. Everyone in the underworld knows - or at least strongly suspects - that you're really the assassin the Spider, the woman who killed the mighty Mab. Why, you're a legend now. Everyone's still whispering about how you killed Mab with . . . what was it, exactly? Ice magic? Or did you use your Stone power as well?"

I palmed one of my silverstone knives and started flipping it end over end in my hand. "Actually, I shoved my knife into the bitch's black heart. It was one of the most satisfying moments of my life."

He watched me turn the knife over and over again. "I bet it was."

After a moment, he drew in a breath and continued with his dossier. "Everyone knows about your supposed . . . skills, but what's really interesting, at least to me, is that you've been seen out and about on the town with Owen Grayson these last few months. I wouldn't think an assassin like you would indulge in such a relationship - any relationship, really. But the two of you seem quite taken with each other."

Kincaid's voice was smooth, but his tone darkened when he said Owen's name, as though it left a bitter taste in his mouth. A small tell, but a tell nonetheless in this verbal game we were playing.

"That's it?" I asked when he didn't say anything else. "That's all you know? You're not going to stand there and tell me what my favorite color is or how I always wanted a puppy when I was a kid?"

Kincaid gave me a thin smile, but he didn't respond to my taunts.

"Well, I have to hand it to you, Philly. It looks like you know everything there is to know about me. But you're not the only one who's been doing his homework."

He made a sweeping gesture with his hand. "Please. Enlighten me."

"Phillip Kincaid, owner of the Delta Queen riverboat casino and one of the richest and most powerful men in Ashland. To most folks, you're a self-made man, a guy with nothing who came from out of nowhere and built a massive fortune. In addition to the Delta Queen, you also have riverboats in several other cities, including Memphis and New Orleans, and there are rumors you're starting a new project down in Blue Marsh."

Kincaid grinned. "I suppose I have you to thank for that last one, don't I, Gin? Now that Randall Dekes is no longer an issue down there. It seems the Spider never takes a vacation. At least not without killing someone."

I ignored his words. "But there's a lot more to you than just your portfolio and the official rags-to-riches story on your corporate website, isn't there, Philly?"

"Like what?"

"Like the fact that you're an orphan. Supposedly, your father was a dwarf and your mother was a giant, which means you're probably quite strong, at least stronger than a regular human would be. You certainly have the solid physique and thick muscles for it. But who your parents were doesn't much matter since you never knew either one of them, does it? You got anonymously dropped off at a church when you were about two years old. From then on, you bounced around from foster home to foster home, going from one bad situation to the next. Tell me, did those cigarette burns on your arms ever heal up?"