Salina didn’t miss a beat justifying her actions. “You know what he did to me, Owen. I was just trying to make sure the bastard got what he deserved—what he should have gotten all those years ago.”
“But Eva was there,” he said. “You scared her, Salina. You scared a lot of people with your water magic. And you killed a man with it—an innocent man.”
He was finally confronting Salina about what she’d done to Antonio, but his tone wasn’t as harsh and accusatory as I would have thought it would be. As I would have liked it to be, truth be told. Instead, Owen was being . . . careful with her. Considerate, even, as if she were some delicate creature who needed shielding from all the ugliness in the world. Almost like he was waiting for her to explain away the whole thing—and hoping that she would. Once again, doubt filled my mind, doubt about Owen’s feelings for Salina—and just how much she really meant to him. That worrisome feeling twisted deeper and deeper into my chest, like I was using one of my own knives to saw through my heart.
Salina leaned forward, her eyes widening with seeming sincerity. “Well, then it was a doubly good thing I was there. You wouldn’t want Phillip to do the same thing to little Eva that he tried to do to me? Would you, Owen?”
“No, of course not, but—”
“And I don’t know why you were so concerned about that giant. The man worked for Phillip, which probably made him just the same sort of heartless bastard. You know what Phillip’s attack did to me, how it drove me to leave Ashland, to leave you. All I wanted was to make things right; all I wanted was to give myself some closure, some peace. You don’t know how hard it’s been on me, coming back home and knowing Phillip is still alive.”
Her voice trembled, her eyes glistened with tears, and her lips quivered, somehow making her look heartbreakingly vulnerable, and that much more beautiful for it. Salina picked up the glass of water I’d brought her earlier and took another sip of it, her hand shaking just a bit, just enough to be noticeable.
A sick, guilty look filled Owen’s eyes, and Salina clearly decided to take advantage of it.
“All I can think about is, what if Phillip comes after me again? Why, I can’t even sleep for worrying about it. I’ve even hired bodyguards to protect me, just in case he tries something.”
Well, that was a clever way to explain her poaching giants from the other underworld figures. Total bullshit, but clever. Salina needed protecting about as much as I did.
“Phillip won’t come after you,” Owen said. “I’ll make sure of that.”
Salina reached over and grabbed his hand, smoothly pulling it away from mine. “Promise me, Owen. Promise me you’ll handle Phillip. The way you should have back then.”
Wow. And I thought I was good with knives. Salina had just pulled a verbal dagger from out of nowhere and buried it in Owen’s chest, then twisted it in for good measure. I could see what Roslyn had meant when she’d called Salina cruel, because that was just what she’d been to my lover, and he didn’t even seem to realize it. Instead, more guilt filled his face, and I knew he was thinking he should have killed Kincaid back then.
I thought about what Bria had said this morning. My sister was right. Salina Dubois was dangerous in a way I’d never expected her to be. She was a skilled actress who instinctively seemed to know what buttons to push to manipulate the people around her. But the truly remarkable thing was that she projected such absolute, utter sincerity as she spun her web of lies, like everyone she’d hurt had done her some grievous wrong and she was just making things right, no matter how horrible and deadly her own actions were. If I hadn’t known better, I might have believed her myself—that was how convincing she was.
Owen opened his mouth, but his cell phone rang, saving him from answering her. He pulled his phone out of his suit jacket and glanced at the screen.
“Excuse me,” he said. “I have to take this.”
He scooted out of the booth, got to his feet, and walked back toward the bathrooms and away from the noise of the storefront. Salina watched him the whole time, a hungry look in her eyes.
“Bravo,” I said, clapping my hands together politely. “That was quite the performance.”
Salina kept staring at Owen. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Please,” I scoffed. “Phillip Kincaid never tried to rape you, and we both know it.”
The water elemental’s eyes narrowed, and she finally deigned to look at me again. “Why would you say that?”
Better to let Salina think I’d seen through her lies and focus her attention on me, rather than realize that Eva was finally ready to tell Owen how the water elemental had snowballed him. I didn’t want Eva in any more danger than she already was.
“Because your story? The one you just got all teary-eyed over? It’s complete and utter fiction. I’ve met a lot of liars in my time, but I have to say that you are one of the best. Very impressive. Really.”
Once again, that calculating look flickered across Salina’s face, as she debated whether she wanted to try to work her charm on me. I could have told her not to bother, that I knew anything coming out of her mouth was more than likely either an outright lie or a truth she’d conveniently twisted.
Salina Dubois was every inch the sly, dangerous elemental Eva and Kincaid claimed she was. I wondered if she’d always been this way, as Roslyn seemed to think, or if she’d changed because of her father’s murder, like Owen claimed.
Daddy! No! Daddy! Daddy—
For a moment, Salina’s screams rang in my ears, and I had to breathe in several times to get the phantom, acrid stench of singed skin out of my nose.
It didn’t really matter why or when Salina had become the person she was. The real question was, why hadn’t Owen seen it? Had he been that in love with her? So devoted to her that it had blinded him to what she was really like and how she was manipulating him? The thought made my heart twist once more.
Still, despite my reasons for disliking the water elemental, I couldn’t quite banish the faint echo of her screams. So I decided to give Salina a chance—more of one than she’d given Antonio and Kincaid.
“I don’t know what game you’re playing—with Owen, with Kincaid, with McAllister—but forget it,” I said. “Pack up and leave Ashland while you still can.”
Salina smiled yet again. “Why, Gin, if I didn’t know better, I would say it sounds like you’re threatened by little ole me.”
I snorted. “Hardly. I eat haughty, arrogant, manipulative, self-important bitches like you for breakfast, sugar. And then I go back for seconds.”
The serene smile flickered for a moment then dropped completely off Salina’s face, and the coldness seeped into her eyes, making them glitter like ice.
“And I would suggest you watch your tone with me,” she snapped. “I’m a Dubois. That name means in something in Ashland.”
“Correction,” I snapped back. “That name used to mean something in Ashland. Not anymore. Not for a long time now. And my mother was Eira Snow, one of the strongest Ice elementals this city has ever seen. So I’ve got just as much right to claim this grand old family legacy as you do.”
This time, Salina snorted. “Keep telling yourself that. Just like you’ve apparently convinced yourself that Owen cares about you. Maybe he does, but that won’t last long. He always comes back to me in the end because he loves me—nobody else. I’m Owen’s, and he’s mine. That’s the way it’s always been since the moment we first saw each other, and that’s the way it’s always going to be. You’re deluding yourself to think otherwise.”
I wasn’t the one here with delusions, but once again, I was struck by the utter sincerity in her voice. Despite the fact that Owen couldn’t hear us and she didn’t have to keep up any pretense with me, Salina still radiated wounded honesty. It was almost like she actually believed all the lies she was spouting, that she had rearranged events in her head to create whatever story she liked best, and everything else, including what had really happened, was ju
st plain unimportant.
Or maybe these were truths about her and Owen that I just didn’t want to hear.
At that moment, I couldn’t decide if she was crazy—or if maybe I was.
But I didn’t let her see my doubts. “You really think Owen won’t figure out that you lied about Kincaid? He might not have listened to Kincaid back then, but I’ll make sure that he listens to me now.”
Salina shrugged. “If Owen can bed down with an assassin like you, then I’m sure he can forgive me for anything I’ve done—or will do.”
“I might be an assassin, but I’ve never framed anyone for murder. I’ve never blamed anyone for a crime I committed just to get my way or make things easier on myself. Never tried to, never needed to, never wanted to, but apparently that sort of thing doesn’t bother you.”
Salina shrugged again. “Your opinion doesn’t matter to me in the slightest. The only one I care about is Owen’s, and we all know how . . . forgiving men can be when they see something they want.”
To that, I didn’t have an answer—and we both knew it.
Salina smiled again, gracefully slid out of the booth, and got to her feet. “As lovely as our conversation has been, I’m afraid I’ve got to run. I have a meeting with Jonah and some final preparations to make for my dinner party. I’m so looking forward to reintroducing myself to everyone who matters in Ashland.”
It took a lot to get to me, but there was something ominous about the way she said dinner party that made my skin crawl. I made a mental note to get Finn to check into this shindig Salina was throwing, and to see if he could find out anything about her mental health. It seemed like there was a disconnect going on with Salina, who talked as if framing Kincaid for rape had been of no big consequence and that Owen would just forgive her for doing something so horrible to his best friend, and for killing others.
Once again, I couldn’t decide if she was a master manipulator who was supremely confident in her skills or if she just rearranged things in her own mind to suit the situation. Either way, she knew exactly what she was doing when it came to pushing every single one of Owen’s buttons. But how could she think that he would come back to her after everything she’d done, especially to Eva? If Salina really did have that twisted a view of reality, if she really believed that what she did didn’t matter, then she was even more dangerous than anyone had realized—even me.
“It’s been a pleasure talking to you, Gin. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again soon,” Salina said. “Do be a dear and give my regards to Owen, will you? Tell him I’ve been thinking about him for ages now, and I’m looking forward to finally getting reacquainted again after all these long, lonely years apart.”
Her voice was calm, pleasant, as if she’d asked me to say good-bye to Owen instead of let him know that she had set her sights on him again. I wanted to palm one of my knives and drive it straight into her heart, but I restrained myself, especially since the other customers had picked up on the tension between us and were staring at me like they expected me to take her out in the middle of the restaurant.
I entertained the thought but quickly discarded it. I didn’t want to upset my diners.
Not to mention how Owen would react to me murdering his ex-fiancée right in front of him with seemingly no provocation.
Salina was unconcerned by my lack of response. Instead, she waggled her fingers good-bye at Owen, blew him a suggestive kiss, and then sashayed over to the front door and out of the restaurant.
And all I could do was just sit there, watch her go, and wonder how I was going to unravel all the lies this black widow had told Owen—as well as the ones it looked like she was telling herself too.
19
I stayed in the booth, thinking back over everything Salina had said. All the threats she’d made, all the awful promises she’d so casually dropped. As much as I hated to admit it, she had a right to be confident. With Mab gone, Salina could potentially revive her father’s business empire. And if she was willing to use her water magic like she had last night, then she could easily be among the most dangerous people in the city.
And then there was the threat she represented to my relationship with Owen.
The past could be a powerful thing, especially when it came to love lost. I wondered if Salina’s past with Owen would trump whatever future my lover and I had together. Thanks to my promise to Eva, I had a funny feeling I was going to find out—one way or another.
Owen finished his phone call, came back over, and sat down in the booth. “Where did Salina go?”
“She had a meeting with Jonah McAllister,” I said. “Something about a dinner she’s hosting tomorrow night.”
“We need to tell her about McAllister, what a snake he is.”
I frowned, wondering again at his seeming blind spot when it came to Salina. Did he really think she needed protecting from McAllister? Maybe Salina wasn’t the only one disconnected from reality, especially if Owen thought the lawyer was doing anything other than what Salina wanted him to.
I shook my head. “Don’t worry. I get the feeling Salina always knows exactly what she’s doing.”
“What do you mean by that?”
I looked at my lover. I’d had some small, foolish hope the situation might resolve itself. That Owen and I could just go on like we had before Salina came to town. But there were too many people involved in this mess now. Someone had to tell Owen the truth about his ex-fiancée, and it looked like the job had fallen to me. Now came the hard part—convincing Owen that Salina wasn’t the victim he’d thought her to be all these years. He hadn’t believed Kincaid back then, and I didn’t know if he’d listen to me now, but I had to try—for all our sakes.
“I talked to Eva last night after you went to bed,” I said in a soft voice. “She told me a very different story from the one you did about the night Kincaid supposedly attacked Salina.”
He stared at me. “Eva spoke to you about that?”
“Is that so surprising?”
Owen shook his head. “She never really talked to me about what happened. . . . All she ever said was that Phillip didn’t hurt Salina, but obviously that wasn’t true. I assumed she’d blocked most of it out, that it was just too traumatic for her to realize or remember what Phillip had done to Salina. So I eventually gave up trying to get her to talk about it. I didn’t want to bring it up over and over and have her constantly be haunted by that night.”
I didn’t tell him that Eva had been too scared of the water elemental and her threats to confide in her big brother. That was Eva’s part of the story to tell—not mine.
I leaned forward. “I believe Eva. She’s telling the truth about what happened—and so is Kincaid, like it or not.”
Owen didn’t say anything, but he shook his head again, and I could see the same weariness in his eyes I had last night.
“Think about it, Owen,” I said before he could speak, before he could stick up for Salina again. “Forget your feelings for Salina and really think about things. You walked in and found Kincaid beating Salina. No one’s disputing that. But he was, what, fifteen then? Still a scrawny kid. And Salina was the same age as you, right? About nineteen, four years older than Kincaid?”
He nodded, confirming the information in Fletcher’s file.
“So Salina was older. Not only that, she had elemental magic. Even if Kincaid had tried to rape her, why would he attack her in the bathroom, of all places? With Eva only a few feet away in the tub, a tub with all that water in it? Why didn’t Salina use her water magic to fight him off? Why did she insist you beat him to death instead?”
Owen didn’t say anything, but I could see him thinking back and struggling to review everything with an objective eye. He sat there, working through it all. I leaned back in my side of the booth and kept quiet, wanting him to draw his own conclusions—the right ones this time.
“It could have happened the way you think it did,” he finally said. “Maybe Phillip didn’t try to rape Salina. But why were
they fighting? Why was he beating her? What did she do to him that was so terrible? Because he would have killed her if I hadn’t come back when I did.”
Now it was time to rip the scabs off all the old wounds—no matter how much it was going to hurt Owen.
I drew in a breath. “They were fighting because Salina was torturing Eva with her water magic. Salina was using her power to hold Eva down under the water in the bathtub. She was drowning Eva again and again.”
All around us, everything went on as usual. The other diners talked and laughed; the waitstaff hurried from one table to another; Sophia dished up plate after plate of food; the chatter of the customers and the clink-clink-clink of dishes and silverware sounded; and the air smelled of hot grease mixed with smoky spices.
Yes, the world went on just like it had before. But for Owen, everything had changed.
For a moment, he was absolutely still, as if frozen to where he sat. Then, everything happened at once. All the color drained out of my lover’s face, his eyes bulged, and he let out a strangled gasp.
“No—no way. That’s just not possible—”
“That wasn’t the first night it happened,” I said, cutting him off, being brutal, like I had to be right now. “The torture had been going on for weeks. Kincaid finally figured out what Salina was doing to Eva. That’s why he told you he was sick, so he could go back home and catch her in the act. He was trying to protect Eva.”
Owen flinched, like I’d just zapped him with a stun gun. I reached over and took his hand, trying to bring him the same comfort he had me earlier.
“It’s not your fault,” I said. “None of this is your fault. Salina fooled everyone.”
“But if what you’re saying is true . . .”
His voice trailed off, and he couldn’t get the words out. That sick, stricken look filled his face again, and I knew he was thinking of what Eva had suffered.
I squeezed his hand. “I know . . . I know this is a lot to take in.”