Spider's Bite
“Don’t think that your pretty smile and clumsy attempts at charm will have any effect on me,” Mab said. “This is a business arrangement. Nothing more. Unlike some people in this room, I don’t sleep with the help.”
Sebastian’s eyes glittered with anger, but he made an obvious effort to rein in his temper, given whom he was talking to. Smart move, although I was starting to wish that Mab would go ahead and fry him on the spot, given what he’d done to Charlotte and his father.
And what I was beginning to realize he’d done to me too.
But Sebastian wasn’t easily daunted, and he leaned in again. “You don’t know what you’re missing,” he murmured. “It’s great fun sleeping with the help. You should try it sometime.”
Mab’s black gaze flicked over his body, cold and dismissive. “Doubtful. But do keep trying to persuade me. It seems you enjoy the thrill of the chase as much as I do.”
He smirked his agreement.
“But on to the business at hand,” Mab said, taking a sip of her brandy. “Your speech at the party seemed to go over quite well. You shouldn’t have any problems taking over your father’s company now. I’ll admit that when you first approached me with your little scheme, I had serious doubts that it would work.”
“Really? Why was that?”
“It was far too complicated,” Mab said. “Hiring an assassin to murder your father seemed a bit much, especially when you could simply arrange for him to have an accident at one of his job sites.”
I sucked in a breath. I’d suspected it as soon as I’d seen the bruise on Charlotte’s arm, but it was another thing to have confirmation. Sebastian—Sebastian was the one who’d hired me to kill his own father.
Once again, the thought that I’d murdered an innocent man devastated me, and I had to bend over double and clamp my hand over my mouth to keep from throwing up. It didn’t stop the tears from trickling down my face, though, each one as cold and frozen as my heart.
Sebastian shrugged. “Yes, well, I wouldn’t have even had to hire that assassin if the old man had agreed to step down following the restaurant incident like I wanted him to.”
“Something that you conveniently arranged to push your father out of his own company,” Mab shot back. “How did you get that terrace to collapse?”
He gave her another smug grin. “That’s my little secret.”
“Too bad it didn’t work out like you’d hoped.”
“I thought the public pressure would be too great, that he would get forced out immediately or simply resign out of guilt that one of his precious projects wasn’t as strong as he thought. But of course, my father ended up being a bit more . . . stubborn than I anticipated.”
“Which is why you went out and hired yourself an assassin. Another needless complication. Why not take care of your father yourself? Afraid of getting your hands dirty?” Her voice took on a mocking note.
“Hardly.” Sebastian sneered. “But my father is not without friends. Him having an accident, especially after the terrace collapse, would have raised even more questions. This way, it looks like one of the family members of the victims killed him or hired someone to do it for them. Not me.”
Sebastian had wanted to take over his father’s company, so he’d arranged the terrace collapse, which meant that he was responsible for the deaths and injuries of those innocent people at the restaurant—not Cesar.
More guilt roiled in my stomach, along with deep, dark, unending shame at what I’d done. I’d been so cocky, so arrogant, so damn righteous in my desire to kill Cesar that I hadn’t thought things through, like Fletcher had wanted me to. As a result, I’d given Sebastian exactly what he wanted.
I was such a fool.
Mab shook her head, making her coppery hair float around her shoulders before it settled perfectly back into place. “Yes, but the assassin could always trace the payment back to you and use it to blackmail you further down the line.”
“Don’t worry about the assassin. She’s passed out in my bed right now.”
I sucked in another breath and straightened up. Sebastian knew that I was an assassin, knew that I’d murdered his father. He’d known the whole damn time.
Mab’s eyes narrowed with interest. “ ‘She’? The assassin is a woman? Do tell.”
“Oh, yes.” Sebastian practically purred with triumph. “You’re absolutely right about the possibility of blackmail, so ever since I reached out to this assassin, I’ve been keeping an eye out for anyone new in my father’s life. And lo and behold, a few days after I put down the deposit, I see a young woman snooping around.”
He went on to tell Mab how he’d found me lurking in the hallway outside the library at Dawson’s mansion. I cursed my own carelessness. I should have made sure that everyone was gone from the library before I’d slipped back inside the building, but I hadn’t, and it had cost me—even if I wasn’t quite sure how high the price was going to be yet.
He finished his story, and Mab arched her eyebrow.
“And you think that some random waitress is really an assassin in disguise? That’s a bit thin, darling.”
For the first time, a bit of doubt flickered in Sebastian’s face. “Well, I don’t know for sure that she’s the assassin, but she was outside the library at Dawson’s mansion after your meeting with my father. That can’t be a coincidence. And you should see the rest of her family. They’ve all been giving me the evil eye ever since I cozied up to her.”
“I can’t imagine why,” Mab drawled. “Given your oh-so-honorable intentions toward her.”
“Something’s going on with them, and I intend to find out what it is.”
“And how did you lure this supposed assassin into your bed?”
His face twisted into a sneer. “It was quite easy, actually. Seems she’s a bit starved for attention, poor thing. All I had to do was play the part of the doting suitor. She was practically eating out of my hand.”
Sebastian told Mab about all our dates, mocking all the time we’d spent together. I closed my eyes, my stomach turning over, but I couldn’t shut out the sound of his voice. He sneered as he told her about all the times he’d looked into my eyes, all the sweet words he’d said, all the lies he’d told me. And then he laughed—he threw back his head and laughed and laughed, as if fooling me so completely was the most amusing thing he’d ever done.
Mab joined in with his self-satisfied chuckles, but her face quickly became thoughtful once more. “And what if you’re wrong? What if your little waitress isn’t the assassin you think she is? What are you going to do then?”
“Kill her, of course, along with the rest of her family, just so there are no loose ends,” Sebastian said in a matter-of-fact voice. “Porter is sending some of his men to take care of her father and her brother after we wrap up here.”
My heart seized in my chest. He was going after Fletcher and Finn too. All because of me. All because I’d been too blind to see who and what he really was.
A monster.
“Well, it’s good that you’re tying up things, just in case,” Mab said. “But don’t you want to string her along a bit longer? See what else she might tell you? If there’s one thing that assassins have, it’s access to other people’s secrets.”
Sebastian shrugged. “I’ve fucked her all I care to. She’s of no further use to me.”
My world shattered with every single cruel thing he said. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t move, I couldn’t even cry anymore. All I could do was just stand there and feel sicker and sicker at how thoroughly, how totally, how absolutely he’d fooled me. Sebastian Vaughn had been playing me this whole time, this whole damn time. Every heated word he’d said, every soft look he’d given me, every tiny tear he’d shed for his supposedly beloved papa.
Lies—all of it damn, dirty, rotten, heartless lies.
Even as my heart splintered into smaller and sharper pieces, the rage began to build brick by solid brick in its place, clearing the rest of the drugged fog from my mind
. Rage that Sebastian had used me. It wasn’t just that he’d hired an assassin to kill his father. That was rather commonplace in Ashland. So was trying to double-cross said assassin somewhere along the way. But to go to such trouble to seduce me after the fact and now to be targeting Finn and Fletcher too . . .
In that instant, everything that I’d ever felt for Sebastian Vaughn burned to ash. Every soft thought, every kind word, every silly, secret hope and hazy, wishful dream. Gone. Incinerated. Obliterated. But in their places rose one thing, stronger than all that I’d felt for him before: a cold, vicious, unending desire to kill him for every low-down, dirty, rotten thing he’d done.
To me, to his father, and especially to Charlotte.
“Well, if you think that you can manage to take care of this girl and her family, we can move ahead with our plans,” Mab said. “How soon can you handle the first shipment?”
“As soon as you give it to me,” Sebastian said. “Vaughn Construction has several ongoing projects up and down the East Coast. I’ll be happy to include your packages with the building materials that we ship out. That should make it easier to get your drugs into new markets.”
“Well, I’m glad that you’re so much more amenable to the idea than your father was.”
So that’s what this was about. Cesar hadn’t wanted to help Mab move her drugs, but Sebastian had wanted to be a king instead of a prince, just like Finn had said, and he’d seen his father’s reluctance as a golden opportunity. So he’d made a deal to help Mab with her drugs and bump off his father at the same time. I wondered what Sebastian had planned for me—and for Charlotte.
Sebastian hesitated. “Along with the girl, there might be one more loose end, a detective named Harry Coolidge.”
“How so?”
“Right before the assassin killed my father, Coolidge gave him a file. I found it in his office safe after I paid off the cops to let me go through his papers instead of bagging them up as evidence. It seems as if my father had Coolidge independently investigating the terrace collapse.”
So that was what had been in that file, some sort of proof of Sebastian’s involvement. Sebastian must have thought it was his lucky day when he found the file in his father’s safe after I killed Cesar.
“What did he find, and how bad is it?”
Sebastian shrugged. “Nothing that I couldn’t explain away, but Coolidge is persistent. Worse than a dog with a bone. Plus, he’s never liked me. He already thinks that I had something to do with my father’s death. He intimated as much at the party tonight.”
“Well, then, perhaps you should get your waitress assassin to get rid of him before you kill her,” Mab suggested. “Instead of hiring another hit man and making more of a mess of things than you already have.”
Sebastian waved his hand. “I’m not worried about Coolidge. He’s more hot air than anything else. If he becomes a nuisance, I’ll bury him myself. In fact, I’m rather looking forward to it.”
“I thought that I made this clear months ago when you first approached me with your grand scheme, but let me repeat myself,” Mab said, her voice growing colder and sharper with every word. “Should you start becoming a problem, then I’ll do the same thing to you that you did to your dearly departed father. Only I won’t bother using an assassin. Are we clear?”
The snifter in her hand erupted into flames, punctuating her words, and the harsh scent of brandy filled the library before quickly burning away. Sebastian couldn’t stop himself from throwing his hand up and taking several steps back. He was afraid of her. He should be.
But not as afraid as he should be of me.
Mab kept her eyes on Sebastian, even as the glass in her hand began to bubble and melt and finally dripped through her fingers like molten lava. And when it was done, when the glass was gone and her point had been made, she brushed the last drops of molten glass off her hands and released her hold on her magic. The flames snuffed out on her fingertips, although the stench of smoke remained behind.
“I trust that’s the only demonstration that I’ll ever need to give you,” Mab said.
Sebastian tried to give her a confident look, as though he weren’t about to wet his pants, but the brandy snifter in his own hand trembled, sloshing around the liquid and spoiling his façade. “It won’t come to that. I can handle Coolidge and everything else.”
“Good. Because you don’t want to disappoint me.”
Mab patted Sebastian’s cheek, her hot hand leaving a faint red welt on his skin. I hoped she would burn off his smug face, but instead, she dropped her hand before turning and gliding away.
Leaving—she was leaving.
I ducked back behind the fireplace, scurrying deeper into this part of the library, and crouched down behind a wingback chair just as Mab stepped into view again. The Fire elemental started toward the door but then paused and glanced over her shoulder, her black eyes flicking over the bookcases and the shadows they cast out.
The lights were turned down low in this part of the library, but I still froze, not even daring to breathe, because if she saw me, I was dead. Mab would realize that every word Sebastian had said about me being an assassin was true, and she’d kill me on the spot—before going after Finn and Fletcher.
But apparently, the Fire elemental had bigger fish to fry, because after a few more heart-stopping seconds, she turned and left the library.
I let out a soft sigh of relief that she hadn’t spotted me—
“Where are your men at?” I heard Sebastian snap. “I want everything wrapped up tonight.”
I waited a minute to make sure that Mab wasn’t coming back, then left my hiding place and eased back over to the fireplace, peering around it once again. Sebastian was still standing in front of his father’s desk, talking to Porter now.
“I spoke to them right before Mab arrived,” Porter replied. “They’re getting ready to leave as we speak. Three of my guys will go over to the son’s place. Three more of my men will head over to the house that the girl lives in with the father. Clever of you to send that car to pick her up so you could get the address. Don’t worry. We’ll take care of them all tonight.”
Sebastian nodded. “Good. And Gin?”
“Still passed out on your bed the last time I looked.” Porter paused. “You sure you want to get rid of her tonight? She might be fun to have around for a few days.”
The way he said “fun” made my skin crawl.
Sebastian snorted. “Not that much fun. Trust me.”
I trembled with fury. I wanted nothing more than to run into the room, raise my knife high, and ram it into Sebastian’s black, deceitful heart over and over again. But my body still felt weak, wobbly, and slow from whatever drug he’d given me—too weak, too wobbly, and too slow to take on Sebastian, not to mention Porter, who could easily beat me to death with his fists.
Besides, I had Finn and Fletcher to think about. I had to warn them that Sebastian was sending his giants after them. So I whirled around, ready to slip out of the library and make my escape, but I moved too fast, making my head spin. I teetered in my heels and stumbled into one of the tables inside the open doors, knocking off a model of a skyscraper. The stone miniature clattered against the floor. I bit back a curse, but the damage was already done.
“What the hell was that?” Sebastian snapped.
Before I could move, before I could react, he and Porter came rushing into my part of the library. Sebastian and I stared at each other for a heartbeat, then I turned toward the open doors and started to run.
23
Crack! Crack! Crack!
Porter managed to yank his gun out from underneath his tuxedo jacket before I made it out of the library. But his aim was lousy, and the bullets thunk-thunk-thunked into the wall beside me instead of punching into my back.
“Get that bitch!” Sebastian screamed.
So much for my sweet, kind, devoted boyfriend. He’d finally shown his true colors, and I was going to kill him for it.
B
ut first, I had to escape.
I ran through the mansion as fast as I could, which wasn’t very fast, given my high heels. But I had no one to blame for this situation but myself. If only I hadn’t been so blind, so naive, so fucking eager to believe all the lame lines that Sebastian had fed me. Finn had said that Sebastian was trying too hard, and he’d been right.
Finn. My heart twisted at the thought of him and Fletcher too, both in danger because of me, because I’d been stupid enough to fall for Sebastian and all his smooth, pretty lies. I had to find a way to warn them, save them.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
More bullets zipped down the hallway, one shattering a mirror as I ran by it. Yes, I had to get to Finn and Fletcher—but first, I had to save myself.
I kept running until I spotted a set of stairs. I veered in that direction, raced down them to the ground floor, and shoved through the first door I came to. I ended up on the south lawn, well away from the driveway and the front gate. Frustration surged through me. Not the way that I’d wanted to come, but I had no choice now but to go forward.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
Porter burst through the door. His first spray of bullets went wild, but the giant paused and took aim at me again.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
This time, the bullets kicked up tufts of grass at my feet, much closer to hitting the mark, forcing me to run again.
The tennis courts, the swimming pool, the hot tub. I passed all those and more, keeping away from the outdoor lights as much as I could.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
More bullets, so close that I felt the heat of them zing past my legs this time. I wasn’t going to be able to outrun Porter, not with the drug in my veins still slowing me down, so I started looking for a place to hide. He might have a gun, but I still had my knife. All I had to do was let him run past me, and then I could come up from behind and stab him in the back. Problem solved. Now I just needed to find a place to make it happen.