Black Widow
Page 47
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Madeline slowly turned her head to stare at the giant, her green eyes glittering in the darkness. “Are you questioning my judgment?” Her voice was soft, but the threat in her words was as hot and caustic as the acid she could so easily create and control.
Despite her giant strength, Emery knew which of them was the more dangerous, and she immediately lowered her head in apology. “Of course not. I’ll call my men right now.”
“Good. And have the driver bring the car around. I’ve seen all that I care to here.”
The two of them strolled down the sidewalk in the opposite direction, turned the corner, and disappeared from sight.
For a mad, mad moment, I thought about palming one of the knives hidden up my many, many sleeves, charging after them, and burying the blade in Madeline’s back. But I resisted the temptation. I didn’t know what other deadly webs she might have woven, and I wanted to be sure that I knew each and every one of her schemes before I moved against her. Besides, even if I could have killed her, there were still far too many cops around for me to hope to get away with it.
So Madeline would live through this night, but not too many more.
I’d make sure of that.
* * *
When I was certain that Madeline and Emery weren’t coming back, I got to my feet and shuffled off in the other direction to start my long, cold trek up to Jo-Jo’s house.
So many things in my life had changed since Fletcher had taken me in when I was thirteen. It was strange to be right back where I’d started, so to speak, roaming the streets, looking out for danger, and trying to stay warm for the night. But in many ways, it was all too familiar.
The gang members clustered together at the corners, jeering at everyone who dared to scurry by them. The vampire hookers making their endless rounds up and down the sidewalks before ambling over to the cars that pulled over to the curbs. Their pimps, lounging against the storefront walls or hidden back in the alleys, waiting to take all the cash that their girls and guys earned plying their bodies for the night. The scent of fried food and puffs of warmth that escaped from the restaurants as people moved inside and back out again, greasy sacks of burgers and fries clutched in their hands. The dim glow of lights from the businesses that were still open that couldn’t quite banish the darkness on the streets beyond.
Oh, yes. It was all too familiar, and in a way strangely comforting. I almost felt like I’d stepped back in time to a younger version of myself, before Madeline had come to town, before I’d killed Mab, before I’d ever dreamed about becoming the Spider. Back when I was just trying to survive and get through one day at a time without getting murdered in my sleep for my threadbare clothes. Or maybe this was the same-old, same-old version of myself, since I was still just trying to get through one day at a time without getting murdered just for being me.
A few of the gangbangers thought about hassling me, but the stench of the garbage wafting off my body had them wrinkling their noses, cursing, and yelling at me to take a bath already. Normally, I might have flashed a knife at them, telling them exactly what they could do with their suggestions, but I kept my head down and shuffled on. Because Madeline had probably put the word out that she wanted to know about anyone and anything unusual or suspicious happening around the Pork Pit, and a homeless bum brandishing a silverstone weapon would be more than enough to ping her radar.
After I made it out of the downtown loop, the people, businesses, and lights got fewer and farther in between, replaced by cars that whiz-whiz-whizzed by me on the highway. I stayed well away from the edge of the road and kept my pace slow and steady. I hated wasting a second in letting everyone know that I was okay, but it couldn’t be helped, not without attracting unwanted attention to myself. They would understand. I hoped so, anyway.
It took me more than three hours to walk from the Pork Pit up to Jo-Jo’s house in Northtown. It would have taken even longer if I’d stuck to the roads, but I cut through several patches of woods, climbing up ridges and then sliding back down them again, taking the most direct route possible.
Finally, I reached the last leg of my journey. I entered Jo-Jo’s subdivision and slid into the trees along the side of the main street, peering out into the night. Just because Emery had told her men to leave their watchers’ posts didn’t mean that they had yet—or that Madeline hadn’t had another hinky feeling and sent them right back out. She seemed to be as paranoid as I was, and with good reason this time.
But I didn’t see any cars parked on the street below the hill that led up to Jo-Jo’s place, and I didn’t spot anyone stationed in the thick patches of trees that ran between the homes, training a pair of night-vision goggles on the three-story, white plantation house.
When I was sure that the watchers had all gone, I climbed the hill, keeping to the trees and low bushes and skulking from shadow to shadow as much as I could. I hadn’t come this far just to get spotted by a nosy neighbor.
I paused again outside the house, staring at all the cars clustered in the driveway. Finn, Bria, Owen, Roslyn, Xavier, even Phillip Kincaid, Warren T. Fox, and Cooper Stills. All of their vehicles were here, along with Sophia’s classic convertible. Silvio must have been able to bail her out of jail after all.
I let out a long, tired breath because I knew that I was finally safe and shuffled forward, somehow feeling both exhilarated and more bone-weary than ever before.
To my surprise, the front door was unlocked, and the knob turned easily in my hand. I stepped inside and shut the door behind me. The front of the house was dark, but light, sound, and fury emanated from the kitchen, so that’s where I headed.
That’s where they were all gathered—Finn, Bria, Owen, Eva, Jo-Jo, Sophia, Xavier, Roslyn, Phillip, Cooper, Violet, Warren, Silvio, Catalina. All crammed into Jo-Jo’s kitchen, and all talking at the same time.
“I say we go kill that bitch right fucking now,” Finn said, his voice the loudest. “What are we waiting for?”
“For once, I second Lane’s opinion,” Phillip agreed.
Cooper, Warren, Sophia, Roslyn, and Xavier all nodded their heads in grim agreement. Silvio stood by the refrigerator, silent as always. Eva, Violet, and Catalina looked back and forth at everyone with wide eyes, while Jo-Jo rubbed her head, as though it was aching. Yeah. Mine too, and I’d only been here a few seconds. Judging from the empty pot of chicory coffee and the mugs scattered everywhere, they must have been in here arguing for hours.
Despite her giant strength, Emery knew which of them was the more dangerous, and she immediately lowered her head in apology. “Of course not. I’ll call my men right now.”
“Good. And have the driver bring the car around. I’ve seen all that I care to here.”
The two of them strolled down the sidewalk in the opposite direction, turned the corner, and disappeared from sight.
For a mad, mad moment, I thought about palming one of the knives hidden up my many, many sleeves, charging after them, and burying the blade in Madeline’s back. But I resisted the temptation. I didn’t know what other deadly webs she might have woven, and I wanted to be sure that I knew each and every one of her schemes before I moved against her. Besides, even if I could have killed her, there were still far too many cops around for me to hope to get away with it.
So Madeline would live through this night, but not too many more.
I’d make sure of that.
* * *
When I was certain that Madeline and Emery weren’t coming back, I got to my feet and shuffled off in the other direction to start my long, cold trek up to Jo-Jo’s house.
So many things in my life had changed since Fletcher had taken me in when I was thirteen. It was strange to be right back where I’d started, so to speak, roaming the streets, looking out for danger, and trying to stay warm for the night. But in many ways, it was all too familiar.
The gang members clustered together at the corners, jeering at everyone who dared to scurry by them. The vampire hookers making their endless rounds up and down the sidewalks before ambling over to the cars that pulled over to the curbs. Their pimps, lounging against the storefront walls or hidden back in the alleys, waiting to take all the cash that their girls and guys earned plying their bodies for the night. The scent of fried food and puffs of warmth that escaped from the restaurants as people moved inside and back out again, greasy sacks of burgers and fries clutched in their hands. The dim glow of lights from the businesses that were still open that couldn’t quite banish the darkness on the streets beyond.
Oh, yes. It was all too familiar, and in a way strangely comforting. I almost felt like I’d stepped back in time to a younger version of myself, before Madeline had come to town, before I’d killed Mab, before I’d ever dreamed about becoming the Spider. Back when I was just trying to survive and get through one day at a time without getting murdered in my sleep for my threadbare clothes. Or maybe this was the same-old, same-old version of myself, since I was still just trying to get through one day at a time without getting murdered just for being me.
A few of the gangbangers thought about hassling me, but the stench of the garbage wafting off my body had them wrinkling their noses, cursing, and yelling at me to take a bath already. Normally, I might have flashed a knife at them, telling them exactly what they could do with their suggestions, but I kept my head down and shuffled on. Because Madeline had probably put the word out that she wanted to know about anyone and anything unusual or suspicious happening around the Pork Pit, and a homeless bum brandishing a silverstone weapon would be more than enough to ping her radar.
After I made it out of the downtown loop, the people, businesses, and lights got fewer and farther in between, replaced by cars that whiz-whiz-whizzed by me on the highway. I stayed well away from the edge of the road and kept my pace slow and steady. I hated wasting a second in letting everyone know that I was okay, but it couldn’t be helped, not without attracting unwanted attention to myself. They would understand. I hoped so, anyway.
It took me more than three hours to walk from the Pork Pit up to Jo-Jo’s house in Northtown. It would have taken even longer if I’d stuck to the roads, but I cut through several patches of woods, climbing up ridges and then sliding back down them again, taking the most direct route possible.
Finally, I reached the last leg of my journey. I entered Jo-Jo’s subdivision and slid into the trees along the side of the main street, peering out into the night. Just because Emery had told her men to leave their watchers’ posts didn’t mean that they had yet—or that Madeline hadn’t had another hinky feeling and sent them right back out. She seemed to be as paranoid as I was, and with good reason this time.
But I didn’t see any cars parked on the street below the hill that led up to Jo-Jo’s place, and I didn’t spot anyone stationed in the thick patches of trees that ran between the homes, training a pair of night-vision goggles on the three-story, white plantation house.
When I was sure that the watchers had all gone, I climbed the hill, keeping to the trees and low bushes and skulking from shadow to shadow as much as I could. I hadn’t come this far just to get spotted by a nosy neighbor.
I paused again outside the house, staring at all the cars clustered in the driveway. Finn, Bria, Owen, Roslyn, Xavier, even Phillip Kincaid, Warren T. Fox, and Cooper Stills. All of their vehicles were here, along with Sophia’s classic convertible. Silvio must have been able to bail her out of jail after all.
I let out a long, tired breath because I knew that I was finally safe and shuffled forward, somehow feeling both exhilarated and more bone-weary than ever before.
To my surprise, the front door was unlocked, and the knob turned easily in my hand. I stepped inside and shut the door behind me. The front of the house was dark, but light, sound, and fury emanated from the kitchen, so that’s where I headed.
That’s where they were all gathered—Finn, Bria, Owen, Eva, Jo-Jo, Sophia, Xavier, Roslyn, Phillip, Cooper, Violet, Warren, Silvio, Catalina. All crammed into Jo-Jo’s kitchen, and all talking at the same time.
“I say we go kill that bitch right fucking now,” Finn said, his voice the loudest. “What are we waiting for?”
“For once, I second Lane’s opinion,” Phillip agreed.
Cooper, Warren, Sophia, Roslyn, and Xavier all nodded their heads in grim agreement. Silvio stood by the refrigerator, silent as always. Eva, Violet, and Catalina looked back and forth at everyone with wide eyes, while Jo-Jo rubbed her head, as though it was aching. Yeah. Mine too, and I’d only been here a few seconds. Judging from the empty pot of chicory coffee and the mugs scattered everywhere, they must have been in here arguing for hours.
