Thread of Death
Page 8

Over and over again.
Finally, I made it back to the car. To my surprise, Owen wasn't alone: Phillip Kincaid was with him. Worry spiked through me. Why would Kincaid be talking to Owen? I quickened my steps, and I started to palm one of my knives when Kincaid turned and walked away from my lover.
Owen stared after him a moment, a troubled look on his face, but he must have spotted me out of the corner of his eye because he turned in my direction. Owen did a double take as he realized I was limping and just how bloody I was - again. He hurried over to me, meeting me in the grass.
"What was that about?" I asked. "Why were you talking to Phillip Kincaid?"
He shook his head. "Nothing. It doesn't matter. Are you okay? What happened?"
I shrugged. "Someone decided that sniper wasn't enough. The three dwarves who were supposed to dig Mab's grave wanted to put me in it with her. But I took care of them instead."
I told my lover what had happened at the grave site, leaving out the words I'd murmured to the Fire elemental's coffin. I figured those things were between Mab and me, just like they'd always been.
Owen's face tightened, and he looked around, almost as if he expected someone else to jump out from behind a tombstone and attack me. He was right to be cautious. I had a feeling it was just a matter of time.
"Who do you think it was?" he asked. "Who do you think sent the dwarves after you?"
I shrugged again. "If I had to guess, I'd say Jonah McAllister. This reeks of him."
Owen glanced over his shoulder, like he was looking for Kincaid's car, although the crime boss was already long gone. "That's what Phillip said too."
My eyebrows shot up in my face at the familiar tone in his voice. Phillip? Owen was on a first-name basis with Kincaid? When had that happened? And why didn't I know anything about it? I started to question my lover, but Owen wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close.
"I'm just glad you're okay," he murmured. "That's the most important thing."
I hesitated, wanting to ask him how he knew Kincaid, but another wave of exhaustion washed over me, and I decided that my questions about the crime boss could wait for some other time. Besides, I was still preoccupied with almost getting dead not once, but twice today.
I drew back from Owen. "Well, whether it was McAllister or someone else, you have to admit that it was a smart plan, hiring a sniper to lure me into a false sense of security while the real team waited for the perfect moment to take me out. What I don't understand is why he did it here, at the funeral."
"Why not?" Owen asked. "Like you said before, he probably guessed you'd be here. Today was probably the first chance he thought he could get to you, since we've all been spending so much time with you these last few weeks."
"I know," I said. "And that all makes sense. But it's so public. McAllister's like a snake in the grass: you never know when he's going to strike until you step on him. Usually, he prefers to take care of matters much more privately and quietly. But this was almost a . . . display of sorts. Like he wanted to lure me into showing everyone just how dangerous I really am."
Owen frowned. "You mean like he wanted everyone to realize you really are the Spider?"
I nodded. "Something like that. Think about it. Right now, there are a lot of rumors going around about me. What better way to confirm them than to have me take out a bunch of hitters at Mab's funeral?"
He let go of me and crossed his arms over his chest, thinking about it. "But what does that get McAllister in the end? Because you're still alive, and his men aren't. If anything, he just wasted the money he paid them to try to kill you."
I shrugged again. "I'm not sure, but the smarmy bastard has to have something in mind. He always seems to have a plan, and then a couple more in the works, at least when it comes to me. Anyway, enough talk about McAllister and what he did or didn't do: Let's get out of here."
Owen helped me into the passenger seat of his car, then walked around, opened the driver's-side door, slid behind the wheel, and started the engine. I stared out the window, brooding.
Because I had a funny feeling I knew exactly what McAllister was up to. He'd wanted me to show myself, to show my skills as the Spider, to all the underworld figures here today, and I'd obliged him. I'd seen that telltale beam of light, and I'd reacted accordingly, just like McAllister had known that I would.
With Mab dead, there was a power vacuum in the city, and the bosses and their underlings were trying to take each other out any which way they could. And since I was the one who'd actually killed the Fire elemental, some folks would naturally assume I'd done so in order to take over her organization and put the squeeze on everyone else just like she had. My display here today had only shown the underworld figures that I was indeed a force to be reckoned with.
Unless I missed my guess, McAllister had just set me up to be on everyone's hit list in Ashland - and maybe even beyond. It was exceptionally clever. By luring me out into the open today, the lawyer was ensuring that everyone would do his dirty work tomorrow - or whenever they decided to start coming after me.
Owen steered the car down the road, winding past the tombstones and other grave markers. We passed Mab's coffin, and once more the sunburst rune on the side winked at me like an evil eye, inviting me to come share the Fire elemental's fate.
I couldn't believe the bitch was dead.
I just wondered how soon I would be too.