Click.
Gentry’s revolver pressed against Bria’s temple, and my sister did the only thing that she could—she froze. Finn whirled around, cursed, and raised his own gun, determined to put a bullet through one of Gentry’s eyes—
Crack!
A bullet whined out of the trees, kicking up the snow at Finn’s feet. This time, everyone froze, even the giant who’d been about to swing at me. I knew who it was, of course. Sydney, Gentry’s girl, apprentice, or whoever the hell she was, hidden farther back in the trees with that rifle of hers.
“The next one will go in your head,” Gentry said.
She spoke to Finn, but the old woman’s gaze never left my face. She recognized me from the Pork Pit. I could tell by the way that her pale eyes narrowed and her lips puckered with thought. Something like sympathy flashed in her face, and she nodded her head at me. Being respectful, the way that you would to an enemy you admired, to someone who maybe wasn’t all that different but was on the opposite side from you.
“I’ll take care of her as best I can until you come for her,” Gentry said, still staring at me. “I owe you that much for sparing Sydney the other night. Now, come on, little lady. We need to get going.”
Take care of Bria? What did she mean by that?
Keeping Bria between us and her gun against my sister’s temple, Gentry eased my baby sister back into the woods. All around me, the other bounty hunters closed in, their delighted, excited shouts making them sound like a flock of crows cawing in triumph.
But I only had eyes for Bria, and she for me. Across the snowy landscape, our gazes met and held. Desperate gray on agonizing blue.
“Go, Gin!” Bria screamed the words at me. “Leave me!”
Never.
The word burned into my heart like an icy brand, hurting me worse than anything ever had before, including Mab melting my spider rune medallion into my palms. I started forward, thinking to hell with Sydney, her rifle, and the fact that she might put a bullet in my brain, but the giant blocked my path once more. Automatically, I dodged his blows, then brought my knives up, then down, just as I’d done a thousand times before. But even as I cut into him, I knew that it wouldn’t be enough—that I just wouldn’t be fast enough.
The giant had just started to fall when Gentry and Bria disappeared from sight.
“Bria!” I screamed, trying to get past the dying giant. “Bria!”
I wasn’t quick enough. Even as I reached for my baby sister, more bounty hunters appeared, half a dozen of them running toward Finn and me.
“Come on, Gin!” Finn said, grabbing my arm and pulling me forward. “It’s too late! Bria’s gone!”
It might have been my imagination, but, for a second, I saw a glimmer of silver through the trees, as the moonlight illuminated the rune necklace Bria always wore. A delicate primrose. Bria’s rune. The symbol for beauty.
“Bria!” I screamed again.
Then the falling snow swirled and fell like a curtain between us, and she vanished.
I don’t really remember much of what happened after that.
Somehow, I got myself under control long enough to stop screaming and start running. Finn covered our backs, exchanging enough shots with the pursuing bounty hunters to keep them from overwhelming us, while I took care of any who were unlucky enough to step into our path. Cut, cut, cut. I went through the motions automatically, my limbs heavy and my mind disconnected from the rest of my body. Nothing could penetrate the fear that cloaked my heart like an icy shroud.
Bria—Bria was gone, and it was all my fault. For being so arrogant, for assuming that I could kill Mab. Right now, at this very moment, my sister was being delivered into the Fire elemental’s cruel clutches. I’d lost my baby sister to that bitch for the second time in my life. I wanted to curl into a ball and weep at my miserable, miserable failure.
But there was no time for that. There was no time to do anything but cut and run, and cut and run some more.
Somehow, though, Finn and I made it down the steep, snow-covered ridge and back to the sedan that I’d boosted earlier. I was just—out of it, so Finn took charge. He tucked his gun in his waistband alongside his other gun, opened the door, and shoved me into the passenger’s seat. At this point, my hands shook so badly from adrenaline, fear, and fatigue that it was all I could do to pull the door shut. My bloody knives slipped from my numb fingers and clattered to the floorboard. I just stared dully at them.
Finn ran around to the other side of the car, slid into the driver’s seat, and reached underneath the dash. “Come on, baby,” he muttered, bringing the loose wires together. “Start for me.”
A second later, the engine roared to life. Finn threw the car in gear, put his foot all the way down on the gas, and swerved back out onto the road.
Not a moment too soon.
In the side mirror, I saw several figures run out into the road behind us.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
Bullets slammed into the car, one of them blowing out the back windshield and spraying us with sharp splinters of glass. Finn hunched down over the wheel, making himself a smaller target, but I didn’t even have the energy to do that. Didn’t much matter anyway, since Finn rounded a curve, putting us out of sight and out of range of the bounty hunters and their guns.
Finn took the first side road he came to, then another, then another. When he was sure that none of the bounty hunters was on our tail, he made a final turn, one that would take us to the safe house where the others should be waiting. We rode in silence, with me slumped against the window.
Bria—Bria was gone. I’d vowed to keep my sister safe, and I’d been stupid and sloppy enough to let her be captured by a bounty hunter, by Ruth Gentry—a woman who was sure to be taking Bria to Mab this very second, with Sydney and her rifle along for backup. And when Mab got her hands on Bria…
Hot, sour, bitter bile rose in my throat at the thought of what the Fire elemental would do to my sister, of how she would torture her. Just because she could. My stomach twisted, and it took what little strength I had left to keep from vomiting.
“I’m so sorry, Gin,” Finn said. “So fucking sorry. This is all my fault. If I hadn’t set my sights on Bria, if I hadn’t tried to seduce her tonight, if I hadn’t baited her, if I’d just answered my damn phone when you first called…”
Finn swallowed the rest of his words, but I could hear the anguish in his voice. Despite his womanizing ways, Finn genuinely cared for Bria. Even more than that, she was part of our makeshift family now. He would have felt the same way if Jo-Jo had been kidnapped or Sophia or me. And I couldn’t point the finger of blame at Finn too much. We all made mistakes, we all fucked up from time to time. Not too long ago, one of my screwups had led to my foster brother’s almost being killed in the Ashland Rock Quarry. No, I couldn’t fault Finn for being himself, for doing what was in his nature. I just couldn’t. I’d already lost Bria tonight—I wasn’t losing him too.
So I roused myself out of my stupor long enough to lean over and squeeze his cold hand. “If you’d answered my call and tried to leave the house, you might have run into the bounty hunters coming up the driveway and been captured immediately. It’s okay. We’ll get her back. Bria will be fine. You’ll see.”
Finn nodded, but we could both hear the hollow echo in my weak, mumbled words.
We headed due west to the suburbs that lay on the far side of Ashland. Given the late hour, falling snow, and treacherous roads, we didn’t pass a single car—not one. We’d gotten our clean getaway after all—it had just come too late for Bria.
Twenty minutes later, Finn left the main road. He made a series of turns, finally steering the car into what looked like two ruts leading smack-dab to the middle of nowhere. A mile later, the car broke free of the snow-laden trees, and Finn stopped in front of an enormous log cabin that had been built into the side of this particular ridge.
In the dark, the cabin looked like a stain that had been spilled over the pristine carpet
of the white, fluffy snow. No lights burned in the structure, which was flanked by trees, but one of the fins on Sophia’s classic convertible peeked around the far side of the building. The Goth dwarf and Jo-Jo had made it here. I just hoped that the others had too.
The cabin was a safe house Fletcher had kept up for years, one of several that the old man had maintained. Now that he was gone, the only people who knew about the place were me, Finn, Owen, and the Deveraux sisters. But that didn’t mean there still couldn’t be trouble lurking inside—not with all the bounty hunters in the city who were searching for me. So I made myself pick up my bloody knives from the floorboard. Next to me, Finn pulled out one of his guns again. The two of us left the car and approached the house cautiously, sliding from shadow to shadow and watching for any sign of movement behind the curtains.
We’d only gotten halfway across the yard, when the light on the front porch snapped on. Finn and I both dropped into a low crouch, weapons ready. A moment later, the front door creaked open, and Jo-Jo stuck her head outside, no doubt looking for us. Finn and I climbed back to our feet and headed her way. The dwarf spotted us and opened her mouth to call out a greeting. Then she saw there were only two of us—and that Bria wasn’t here.
“Gin?” Jo-Jo asked in a soft voice, stepping back to turn on some more lights.
I shook my head and plodded past her inside.
The cabin was exactly what you’d expect to find in this part of Ashland. Large, sprawling, roomy, and filled with rustic, woodsy furniture done in dark, manly shades. Soapstone figures carved into the shapes of various animals crouched on the tables, while paintings of mountains and creeks covered the smooth log walls.
They were all gathered in the downstairs living room, huddled together on the couches and chairs. Xavier and Roslyn held hands on a love seat in front of the windows. Warren Fox sat next to them in an old-fashioned rocking chair. Warren’s granddaughter, Violet, perched on one side of another sofa, next to her best friend, Eva Grayson. Sophia stood by herself next to the fireplace, stirring up the flames that flickered there. And finally, there was Owen, already moving toward me, concern flashing in his eyes. Everyone was here, everyone was safe, except for Bria.
The guilt and grief overwhelmed me, and I collapsed in the middle of the floor.
Owen scooped me up, carried me into the next room, and gently laid me down on the bed there. Jo-Jo pushed up the sleeves of her pink flannel housecoat, leaned over, and started working her healing magic on me. I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, for once not even caring that the dwarf’s Air magic pricked my skin like hundreds of tiny needles. The discomfort was nothing to what I’d endured at Mab’s hands tonight.
It was nothing to what Bria could be suffering this very second.
Owen held my hand as Jo-Jo healed me. I could hear the others talking in low, strained voices out in the main den. Finn would have filled everyone in on what had happened at Fletcher’s house. Even now, though he had to be as exhausted as I was, my foster brother would be working the phones, contacting his myriad sources, trying to determine if Bria was still alive or if Mab had killed her on sight. The others would huddle around him, staring at each other and trying to think of some way to help, of some way to rescue Bria, of some way out of this mess. They shouldn’t have bothered. Because it was a mess that I’d created, just by being born, just by existing in the same world as Mab, just by breathing—or so it seemed tonight.
A few minutes later, Jo-Jo dropped her hand, and the feel of her Air magic faded away.
“There,” the dwarf said in a low voice. “Good as new. I’ll give you two a minute to talk.”
I nodded, and Jo-Jo left the room. As soon as the door closed, Owen lay down on the bed beside me and drew me into his arms.
“Oh, Gin,” he said, his lips pressed against my temple. “I’m sorry. So, so sorry. For you and for Bria.”
For a moment, I clung to him, letting him hold me, letting him be the strong one. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the feel of Owen’s arms around me, of his smell, that rich scent that always made me think of metal. The warmth from his body heated my own, melting the icy numbness that had gripped me since Gentry had dragged Bria away in the woods. I shuddered in a breath and came back to myself.
And then the moment passed, the way it always did, whether I wanted it to or not.
And I knew it was time to get on with things. Time for me to be the Spider once more. To be the assassin that Fletcher had raised me to be. To do the thing it seemed the old man had been secretly preparing me for all these years.
To finally kill Mab Monroe—or die trying.
Owen seemed to sense my withdrawal because he sat up and pulled me up with him. Emotions filled his face—worry, fear, concern, but most important, acceptance. Owen knew what was coming, what I had to do now as well as I did. Even if he could have, I knew that he wouldn’t try to stop me, because if our situations were reversed, and Eva was gone, he would do exactly what I was going to do now to save Bria.
I loved him for it. For letting me be the Spider, for always letting me do what needed to be done, with no judgments, no remorse, and no regrets, even when the price was going to be so very, very high this time—for all of us.
I cupped my hand to Owen’s cheek, pulled him over to me, and kissed him once—hard. He returned my kiss, even though I knew that my lips felt like ice against his. We both drew back. He looked at me and nodded. I nodded back, then got up, walked over to the door, and stepped out into the main room.
Everyone snapped to attention as I entered, their eyes full of sympathy and worry for me, for Bria, for all of us. I stared at Finn, who ended his latest phone call and looked at me.
“Gentry and Sydney took Bria straight to Mab’s estate,” Finn said. “According to my sources, they went through the front gate with her thirty minutes ago.”
I nodded. Gentry was nothing if not a professional. The first thing the old woman would do would be to hand Bria over to Mab so no one could snatch my sister out from under her and collect on the bounty. At least Gentry had nabbed Bria and not some sick, twisted bastards like the ones I’d killed at Northern Aggression. Those kinds of bounty hunters would have raped my sister—maybe worse—before turning her over to the Fire elemental. There was some small comfort in that, and right now, I’d take what I could get.
“I need your phone,” I said. “And that private number you got for me. You know the one. She’s sure to be waiting for me to make contact, and I think it’s time to give her exactly what she wants.”
Finn bit his lip, but he nodded. He punched in a number, then handed me the phone.
It rang three times before she picked it up.
“Yes?” her silky voice rasped over the line.
I drew in a breath. “Hello, Mab.”
Silence.
For a moment, I thought she wouldn’t answer me, but then the Fire elemental let out a low, slow laugh that made my hand tighten around the phone until my knuckles cracked. I wanted to break the damn thing—I wanted to break her.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the Spider calling me. Tell me, do you prefer Gin Blanco? Or Genevieve Snow?” Mab sneered. “I’d like to get it right, now that I know exactly who the hell you are.”
“It’s Gin,” I quipped. “Like the fucking liquor. As for who I really am, it certainly took you long enough to put it together, didn’t it? The clues were all there. My spider rune, my rescuing Bria over and over again, my declaring war on you. You know, you really should have listened to Jonah McAllister when he wanted to kill me that night at the community college. It would have saved you a lot of trouble.”
Mab let out another laugh, a light, high, pleased, pealing sound that made the small, primal voice in the back of my head start muttering. Enemy, enemy, enemy.
The Fire elemental’s laughter faded away, and her tone hardened once more. “I suggest that you watch your tone,” Mab snapped. “Considering as how I’ve got your dear, sweet sister right
here in this very room with me and several of my giants. Men with a particular kind of… appetite, if you know what I mean.”
I listened as closely as I could, but I didn’t hear anything through the phone. Not crying, not whimpering, nothing. Bria wouldn’t give the bastards the satisfaction of any of that—not until the pain was just too much to bear. Still, the silence unnerved me. Even if Bria had screamed, at least I would have known that she was still alive. The silence told me nothing—not one damn thing.
But now was not the time to show weakness, because I was dealing with Mab, and there was only one thing that the Fire elemental respected—strength.
“You haven’t got a damn thing,” I said, letting a mocking tone creep into my words. “Because you haven’t got me.”
Something in my voice must have registered with Mab, because she paused in her gloating. “And what do you mean by that cryptic statement?”
“You know, for all these years I wondered why you came to our house that night,” I said, my voice as hard, cold, and ugly as hers. “Why you murdered my mother and older sister. What the point of it all was. What had we ever done to you? But Elliot Slater was kind enough to tell me before he died. You remember Elliot, don’t you, Mab? The giant was your number-one enforcer, before I blasted his brains out with a shotgun.”
Across the room, Roslyn shuddered. We both knew that she’d really killed Slater, but the vampire clamped her lips together and didn’t make a sound. Xavier put his arm around Roslyn, hugging her to his chest. I turned away from them, blocking them out, blocking everything out but the sound of Mab’s voice and what it might reveal to me.
“And what did Elliot tell you?” the Fire elemental sneered. “What do you think you know, little Genevieve?”
“Why, Elliot told me all about your crazy aunt, what was her name? Oh, yes, Magda. Elliot was more than happy to spill his guts to me. He told me all about dear aunt Magda and how she used her Air magic to see the future. How she prophesized that a member of the Snow family would one day kill you—a girl with both Ice and Stone magic.”