Let Slater drag me off the boat and into one of the alleys that surrounded the riverfront. He'd be in for a nasty surprise. So would McAllister, if the lawyer decided to tag along and watch the show. Because I was tired of tiptoeing around them. Mab Monroe too. I wanted to kill the Three Musketeers and proceed with things-namely getting Roslyn Phillips some help for the brutal trauma she'd been through and figuring out a way to tell Bria who and what I really was.
Killing McAllister and Slater tonight would at least solve a few of my problems. More than that, though, it would just be fun. Unlike other assassins that I'd run into over the years, I didn't kill people because it brought me any great pleasure. I did it because it was a job that I happened to excel at. But even the most consummate professional could be excused an indulgence or two, and I was thinking about making McAllister and Slater mine.
"Come on," Slater said. "Let's go."
Jonah McAllister stepped aside, and Elliot Slater pushed me down the walkway toward the front of the riverboat. I didn't make a sound. Didn't scream, protest, or try to jerk my upper arm out of the giant's grip. Mainly because I didn't want Slater to move his hand any lower and find the silverstone knife nestled against my forearm. Besides, screaming would be useless. No one would come to my aid. Everyone knew Elliot Slater worked for Mab Monroe. And with the Fire elemental in attendance here tonight, no one would dare question why the giant was strong-arming me-or what he might do to me once he got me off the boat.
"It's a shame you're just not willing to learn, Ms. Blanco," Jonah McAllister said in a conversational tone. The lawyer walked behind me. "That you just can't accept the way things work in Ashland."
"Learn? Accept?" I looked over my shoulder and glared at him. "What you really mean is you don't understand why I'm not cowed by you and yours, why I don't just roll over and let you do whatever you want to me."
McAllister shrugged. "Call it what you like. But every time you forget, you're going to get another reminder, like the one at the community college. Until you either remember to pay us the respect we're due, or until you're dead. Either option is perfectly acceptable to me."
We rounded the corner and stepped back out onto the main deck. Elliot Slater was a hard man to miss, and more than a few people looked in our direction. But once they realized the giant had his hand clamped on my arm like a vise, folks quickly went back to their drinking and gambling.
Everyone except Roslyn Phillips. Even though she was fifty feet away from me, I could see the vampire's face tighten. Roslyn thought I'd been caught trying to assassinate Slater. She didn't realize that I'd just had the bad luck to run into Jonah McAllister, who still suspected I had something to do with his son, Jake's, death.
Luck. Capricious bitch. She'd gotten me into trouble more times than I cared to think about.
Finn also spotted Slater holding on to me. Our eyes met for a second before I cast my gaze down and shook my head a tiny bit. No, I was telling him. Don't interfere. Not yet. Finn's hand tightened around the handle of the slot machine he'd been pulling down, but he didn't move. I knew he'd be there when I needed him, though.
Slater bent down to murmur in my ear. "Do yourself a favor and don't make a scene, Blanco. Or I'll hit you even harder when we get off the boat. Just because." His breath reeked of onions, which made his threat that much fouler, so to speak.
Oh, yeah. I was going to enjoy stabbing the giant to death. Just because.
But I played the part of the cowed victim and let the giant push me toward the gangplank on the opposite side of the deck. Slater crooked his finger, and his two giant minions left Roslyn's side to come over and flank me. Of course. Slater would need someone to hold me up while he beat me again. Because doing it himself would be such a bother.
Jonah McAllister nodded his head in satisfaction, then strolled to the center of the deck, where Mab Monroe was still holding court. Elliot Slater strong-arming me toward the exit had also caught the Fire elemental's interest, and her black eyes tracked me across the deck. McAllister reached her side and whispered something in Mab's ear. After a moment, the Fire elemental nodded her approval, rubber-stamping my impending beating and possible death. Good to know where I stood, at least.
But Mab wasn't the only one watching us. Phillip Kincaid was interested in the drama as well. The casino owner leaned against one of the blackjack tables, staring at me with obvious curiosity, trying to figure out who I was and why Elliot Slater was dragging me off the riverboat. He looked across the deck at Mab, who gave him a flat stare, a clear warning not to interfere with the giant. After a moment, Kincaid shrugged and turned back to the table. He didn't know me so he didn't care what Mab's men did to me. This might be Kincaid's casino, but even here, he knew he was no match for the Fire elemental.
But there was one more person on the deck who wasn't busy pretending I was invisible-Owen Grayson. He must have seen Elliot Slater out of the corner of his eye, because he glanced at the giant. Then his head snapped back again when he realized that the giant had a death grip on me. Owen's violet eyes stayed on me as he watched Slater walk me past the gaming tables and slot machines. I didn't look in Owen's direction or try to signal him in any way. This was my problem, my mess, my punishment for antagonizing Jonah McAllister instead of keeping my mouth shut.
But to my surprise, instead of going back to his tonic water, Owen Grayson got to his feet, threw a couple of chips on the bar to cover his tab, and headed toward us.
Well, this was going to be interesting.
Owen met us in the middle of the deck in an open space behind one of the blackjack tables. Since Owen stood in the center of the aisle, Elliot Slater had to stop or run over the businessman. Slater decided to stop. The other man was important and rich enough for that small courtesy.
"Is there a problem?" Owen asked. His voice was low and deep, with a dangerous, aggressive edge, and his eyes flashed like dark amethysts in his face.
Elliot tightened his grip on my arm, his fingers digging into my flesh in a clear warning for me to keep my mouth shut. "No problem, Mr. Grayson. Just taking out a bit of trash that got onto the riverboat by mistake."
Trash wasn't the worst thing I'd ever been called. Hardly enough to make me roll my eyes. But the word made Owen's gaze simmer with violet fire. For a moment, I felt a blast of cold emanate from his body. A manifestation of his elemental talent for metal-and his anger. Owen's face remained smooth, except for the scar under his chin. It whitened under the strain of his clenched jaw.
"Ms. Blanco is my date for the evening," Owen replied in a mild tone. "She's hardly trash. I suggest you let go of her arm. Most ladies don't like to be manhandled."
"Only in bed," I quipped. "And even then, I still like to be on top."
His mouth quirked at my flip remark, and our eyes met and held. Gray on violet. Desire simmered in Owen's eyes underneath his anger, and I knew he could see the emotion reflected in my gaze. But there was something else, another emotion in his cold face that surprised me-concern. For me.
My chest tightened, and I couldn't breathe. It had been so long since someone besides Finn, Fletcher, or the Deveraux sisters had cared about what happened to me that it took my breath away for a moment. Even if Owen Grayson was probably just playing the part of the gentleman in order to get laid tonight. Right now, it was working for him.
Owen turned his attention to Slater and smiled at the giant, letting a bit of ugly violence show through his hot gaze. The giant frowned. It was one thing to take me onshore for another beat-down when it seemed like I was here by myself or had somehow snuck in. It was quite another to accost the proclaimed date of one of Ashland's wealthiest businessmen. Enough even to make Elliot Slater think twice.
Footsteps smacked, fabric swished on the deck behind us, and I felt another blast of elemental magic-Fire magic. Dozens of tiny, hot, invisible needles pricked my skin, and my jaw locked even tighter as I struggled to keep my face impassive. To show no sign that I felt anything out of the ordinary. Especially not Mab Monroe's elemental Fire magic dripping off her body like hot candle wax. Slater stepped back, dragging me with him, to make room for his boss, Mab Monroe. Evidently the giant was making too much of a scene, and the Fire elemental had decided to get involved and see exactly what was going on.
"Is there a problem here?" Mab asked, repeating Owen's words. The Fire elemental's low, breathy voice always reminded me of delicately rasping silk. But there was also power in her tone, raw force that couldn't be denied, a clear presence that said fuck with me and you're dead.
For a moment, the Fire elemental regarded me with her black gaze. Unlike most elementals, whose eyes glowed brighter when they reached for their magic, Mab Monroe's darkened. The blackest ink would have seemed pale in comparison to her ebony orbs. A flicker of recognition sparked in Mab's gaze. She realized who I was and seemed just as surprised to see me here as Jonah McAllister had. Hardly shocking. After all, I was just a lowly restaurant owner. It wasn't like I moved in her rich, highfalutin circles. At least, not as Gin Blanco anyway. As the Spider, I'd had my share of dealings with a good portion of those in attendance tonight.
I met the Fire elemental's gaze with a steady one of my own. I wasn't going to pretend to be cowed by her. Not by the bitch who'd so viciously murdered my mother and older sister, who'd taken such glee in torturing me all those years ago, who'd ordered the murder of my sister Bria just yesterday. No, I wasn't going to pretend that Mab Monroe scared me anymore. Not now, not ever.
"No problem at all," Owen replied in a smooth voice. "Seems your giant mistook my date for someone else."
He reached over and tapped on Slater's hand with his index finger. The giant looked at Mab. The Fire elemental stared at Owen, who looked right back at her. Owen's gaze never wavered. Neither did Mab's. All around us, conversation had stopped. Even the slot machines were quiet as folks stopped feeding coins into them to watch this much more interesting gamble by Owen Grayson.
After a moment, Mab jerked her head. The motion made her coppery hair spill over her shoulders like a bloody fan unfurling. Elliot Slater huffed his disappointment at his boss's obvious order, but the giant released his grip on me. Owen held out his hand, which I stepped forward and took, slipping my palm into his.
Slater stared at me, but I didn't rub my upper arm where the giant had held me. I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of realizing that he'd bruised me to the bone with his hard, unrelenting grip.
"If there's nothing else, we'll go back to the bar," Owen told Mab. "Before we try our luck at the gaming tables again. Seems I'm on a roll tonight."
A spark of anger flared in Mab's eyes. Owen was poking at the sleeping bear with a sharp stick, and she was seconds away from ripping off his head. I tensed, ready to palm one of my silverstone knives. I didn't know what agenda Owen had, why he'd decided to save me from Elliot Slater. I supposed the most logical assumption would be that he simply liked me. But things were rarely what they seemed in my line of work, and I'd learned long ago to look out for hidden motives. Even if it did make me slightly paranoid. Better that than dead.
Still, I felt somewhat protective of the sexy businessman. Even though it had been a stupid thing to do, Owen had stepped forward and stood up for me. If Mab made a move toward him, I'd bury my knife in her heart and worry about the consequences later. Or at least try to kill the bitch before she toasted me with her Fire power.
But the Fire elemental smothered her anger and made her face as remote and impassive as before. "Of course," she murmured. "But the next time you decide to gamble, Mr. Grayson, perhaps you should think about exactly what you're risking. A man like you has a lot to lose. Money, status, family."
By family, Mab meant Owen's younger sister Eva-who was the most important person in the world to him. Another cold blast of elemental magic exploded off Owen's body, momentarily driving away the feel of Mab's Fire power pricking my skin. Mab felt the surge of magic and smiled. She knew that she'd gotten to Owen with her casual threat.
I curled my fingers even tighter around his hand, lightly digging my nails into his skin. Warning him.
Owen squeezed my hand back. He didn't relax, but he did manage a curt nod to Mab. He wasn't going to push the issue any more tonight. Couldn't blame him for that. A guy could only play the part of the white knight for so long before he was overwhelmed by enemy forces. Too bad Owen didn't realize that I didn't really need rescuing. That I would have been happy to cut into Mab right here, right now if I thought I could get away with it. Still, the display of chivalry pleased me in an odd way. Donovan Caine had certainly never done anything like it for me.
Mab stepped back, and Owen turned and led me over to the bar. As we walked, we passed Finn, who was still sitting at his slot machine. He studied Owen, a thoughtful, assessing look in his green eyes. Finn's gaze flicked to me. I shrugged my shoulders. It was too late to do anything about the situation now. All I could do was go along with things and pretend to be the businessman's date for the evening.
People parted to let us walk by, and we reached the bar without incident. The folks sitting on either side both scooted farther away, as though they were afraid of catching something from us. Owen ordered another round of drinks. Tonic water for him, gin for me. We didn't speak until after the bartender had filled our order.
"So," Owen murmured. "You want to tell me why you followed Elliot Slater to the other side of the boat in the first place? Or perhaps you'd like to start with why he looked like he was going to rip your arm off and beat you with it?"
Killing McAllister and Slater tonight would at least solve a few of my problems. More than that, though, it would just be fun. Unlike other assassins that I'd run into over the years, I didn't kill people because it brought me any great pleasure. I did it because it was a job that I happened to excel at. But even the most consummate professional could be excused an indulgence or two, and I was thinking about making McAllister and Slater mine.
"Come on," Slater said. "Let's go."
Jonah McAllister stepped aside, and Elliot Slater pushed me down the walkway toward the front of the riverboat. I didn't make a sound. Didn't scream, protest, or try to jerk my upper arm out of the giant's grip. Mainly because I didn't want Slater to move his hand any lower and find the silverstone knife nestled against my forearm. Besides, screaming would be useless. No one would come to my aid. Everyone knew Elliot Slater worked for Mab Monroe. And with the Fire elemental in attendance here tonight, no one would dare question why the giant was strong-arming me-or what he might do to me once he got me off the boat.
"It's a shame you're just not willing to learn, Ms. Blanco," Jonah McAllister said in a conversational tone. The lawyer walked behind me. "That you just can't accept the way things work in Ashland."
"Learn? Accept?" I looked over my shoulder and glared at him. "What you really mean is you don't understand why I'm not cowed by you and yours, why I don't just roll over and let you do whatever you want to me."
McAllister shrugged. "Call it what you like. But every time you forget, you're going to get another reminder, like the one at the community college. Until you either remember to pay us the respect we're due, or until you're dead. Either option is perfectly acceptable to me."
We rounded the corner and stepped back out onto the main deck. Elliot Slater was a hard man to miss, and more than a few people looked in our direction. But once they realized the giant had his hand clamped on my arm like a vise, folks quickly went back to their drinking and gambling.
Everyone except Roslyn Phillips. Even though she was fifty feet away from me, I could see the vampire's face tighten. Roslyn thought I'd been caught trying to assassinate Slater. She didn't realize that I'd just had the bad luck to run into Jonah McAllister, who still suspected I had something to do with his son, Jake's, death.
Luck. Capricious bitch. She'd gotten me into trouble more times than I cared to think about.
Finn also spotted Slater holding on to me. Our eyes met for a second before I cast my gaze down and shook my head a tiny bit. No, I was telling him. Don't interfere. Not yet. Finn's hand tightened around the handle of the slot machine he'd been pulling down, but he didn't move. I knew he'd be there when I needed him, though.
Slater bent down to murmur in my ear. "Do yourself a favor and don't make a scene, Blanco. Or I'll hit you even harder when we get off the boat. Just because." His breath reeked of onions, which made his threat that much fouler, so to speak.
Oh, yeah. I was going to enjoy stabbing the giant to death. Just because.
But I played the part of the cowed victim and let the giant push me toward the gangplank on the opposite side of the deck. Slater crooked his finger, and his two giant minions left Roslyn's side to come over and flank me. Of course. Slater would need someone to hold me up while he beat me again. Because doing it himself would be such a bother.
Jonah McAllister nodded his head in satisfaction, then strolled to the center of the deck, where Mab Monroe was still holding court. Elliot Slater strong-arming me toward the exit had also caught the Fire elemental's interest, and her black eyes tracked me across the deck. McAllister reached her side and whispered something in Mab's ear. After a moment, the Fire elemental nodded her approval, rubber-stamping my impending beating and possible death. Good to know where I stood, at least.
But Mab wasn't the only one watching us. Phillip Kincaid was interested in the drama as well. The casino owner leaned against one of the blackjack tables, staring at me with obvious curiosity, trying to figure out who I was and why Elliot Slater was dragging me off the riverboat. He looked across the deck at Mab, who gave him a flat stare, a clear warning not to interfere with the giant. After a moment, Kincaid shrugged and turned back to the table. He didn't know me so he didn't care what Mab's men did to me. This might be Kincaid's casino, but even here, he knew he was no match for the Fire elemental.
But there was one more person on the deck who wasn't busy pretending I was invisible-Owen Grayson. He must have seen Elliot Slater out of the corner of his eye, because he glanced at the giant. Then his head snapped back again when he realized that the giant had a death grip on me. Owen's violet eyes stayed on me as he watched Slater walk me past the gaming tables and slot machines. I didn't look in Owen's direction or try to signal him in any way. This was my problem, my mess, my punishment for antagonizing Jonah McAllister instead of keeping my mouth shut.
But to my surprise, instead of going back to his tonic water, Owen Grayson got to his feet, threw a couple of chips on the bar to cover his tab, and headed toward us.
Well, this was going to be interesting.
Owen met us in the middle of the deck in an open space behind one of the blackjack tables. Since Owen stood in the center of the aisle, Elliot Slater had to stop or run over the businessman. Slater decided to stop. The other man was important and rich enough for that small courtesy.
"Is there a problem?" Owen asked. His voice was low and deep, with a dangerous, aggressive edge, and his eyes flashed like dark amethysts in his face.
Elliot tightened his grip on my arm, his fingers digging into my flesh in a clear warning for me to keep my mouth shut. "No problem, Mr. Grayson. Just taking out a bit of trash that got onto the riverboat by mistake."
Trash wasn't the worst thing I'd ever been called. Hardly enough to make me roll my eyes. But the word made Owen's gaze simmer with violet fire. For a moment, I felt a blast of cold emanate from his body. A manifestation of his elemental talent for metal-and his anger. Owen's face remained smooth, except for the scar under his chin. It whitened under the strain of his clenched jaw.
"Ms. Blanco is my date for the evening," Owen replied in a mild tone. "She's hardly trash. I suggest you let go of her arm. Most ladies don't like to be manhandled."
"Only in bed," I quipped. "And even then, I still like to be on top."
His mouth quirked at my flip remark, and our eyes met and held. Gray on violet. Desire simmered in Owen's eyes underneath his anger, and I knew he could see the emotion reflected in my gaze. But there was something else, another emotion in his cold face that surprised me-concern. For me.
My chest tightened, and I couldn't breathe. It had been so long since someone besides Finn, Fletcher, or the Deveraux sisters had cared about what happened to me that it took my breath away for a moment. Even if Owen Grayson was probably just playing the part of the gentleman in order to get laid tonight. Right now, it was working for him.
Owen turned his attention to Slater and smiled at the giant, letting a bit of ugly violence show through his hot gaze. The giant frowned. It was one thing to take me onshore for another beat-down when it seemed like I was here by myself or had somehow snuck in. It was quite another to accost the proclaimed date of one of Ashland's wealthiest businessmen. Enough even to make Elliot Slater think twice.
Footsteps smacked, fabric swished on the deck behind us, and I felt another blast of elemental magic-Fire magic. Dozens of tiny, hot, invisible needles pricked my skin, and my jaw locked even tighter as I struggled to keep my face impassive. To show no sign that I felt anything out of the ordinary. Especially not Mab Monroe's elemental Fire magic dripping off her body like hot candle wax. Slater stepped back, dragging me with him, to make room for his boss, Mab Monroe. Evidently the giant was making too much of a scene, and the Fire elemental had decided to get involved and see exactly what was going on.
"Is there a problem here?" Mab asked, repeating Owen's words. The Fire elemental's low, breathy voice always reminded me of delicately rasping silk. But there was also power in her tone, raw force that couldn't be denied, a clear presence that said fuck with me and you're dead.
For a moment, the Fire elemental regarded me with her black gaze. Unlike most elementals, whose eyes glowed brighter when they reached for their magic, Mab Monroe's darkened. The blackest ink would have seemed pale in comparison to her ebony orbs. A flicker of recognition sparked in Mab's gaze. She realized who I was and seemed just as surprised to see me here as Jonah McAllister had. Hardly shocking. After all, I was just a lowly restaurant owner. It wasn't like I moved in her rich, highfalutin circles. At least, not as Gin Blanco anyway. As the Spider, I'd had my share of dealings with a good portion of those in attendance tonight.
I met the Fire elemental's gaze with a steady one of my own. I wasn't going to pretend to be cowed by her. Not by the bitch who'd so viciously murdered my mother and older sister, who'd taken such glee in torturing me all those years ago, who'd ordered the murder of my sister Bria just yesterday. No, I wasn't going to pretend that Mab Monroe scared me anymore. Not now, not ever.
"No problem at all," Owen replied in a smooth voice. "Seems your giant mistook my date for someone else."
He reached over and tapped on Slater's hand with his index finger. The giant looked at Mab. The Fire elemental stared at Owen, who looked right back at her. Owen's gaze never wavered. Neither did Mab's. All around us, conversation had stopped. Even the slot machines were quiet as folks stopped feeding coins into them to watch this much more interesting gamble by Owen Grayson.
After a moment, Mab jerked her head. The motion made her coppery hair spill over her shoulders like a bloody fan unfurling. Elliot Slater huffed his disappointment at his boss's obvious order, but the giant released his grip on me. Owen held out his hand, which I stepped forward and took, slipping my palm into his.
Slater stared at me, but I didn't rub my upper arm where the giant had held me. I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of realizing that he'd bruised me to the bone with his hard, unrelenting grip.
"If there's nothing else, we'll go back to the bar," Owen told Mab. "Before we try our luck at the gaming tables again. Seems I'm on a roll tonight."
A spark of anger flared in Mab's eyes. Owen was poking at the sleeping bear with a sharp stick, and she was seconds away from ripping off his head. I tensed, ready to palm one of my silverstone knives. I didn't know what agenda Owen had, why he'd decided to save me from Elliot Slater. I supposed the most logical assumption would be that he simply liked me. But things were rarely what they seemed in my line of work, and I'd learned long ago to look out for hidden motives. Even if it did make me slightly paranoid. Better that than dead.
Still, I felt somewhat protective of the sexy businessman. Even though it had been a stupid thing to do, Owen had stepped forward and stood up for me. If Mab made a move toward him, I'd bury my knife in her heart and worry about the consequences later. Or at least try to kill the bitch before she toasted me with her Fire power.
But the Fire elemental smothered her anger and made her face as remote and impassive as before. "Of course," she murmured. "But the next time you decide to gamble, Mr. Grayson, perhaps you should think about exactly what you're risking. A man like you has a lot to lose. Money, status, family."
By family, Mab meant Owen's younger sister Eva-who was the most important person in the world to him. Another cold blast of elemental magic exploded off Owen's body, momentarily driving away the feel of Mab's Fire power pricking my skin. Mab felt the surge of magic and smiled. She knew that she'd gotten to Owen with her casual threat.
I curled my fingers even tighter around his hand, lightly digging my nails into his skin. Warning him.
Owen squeezed my hand back. He didn't relax, but he did manage a curt nod to Mab. He wasn't going to push the issue any more tonight. Couldn't blame him for that. A guy could only play the part of the white knight for so long before he was overwhelmed by enemy forces. Too bad Owen didn't realize that I didn't really need rescuing. That I would have been happy to cut into Mab right here, right now if I thought I could get away with it. Still, the display of chivalry pleased me in an odd way. Donovan Caine had certainly never done anything like it for me.
Mab stepped back, and Owen turned and led me over to the bar. As we walked, we passed Finn, who was still sitting at his slot machine. He studied Owen, a thoughtful, assessing look in his green eyes. Finn's gaze flicked to me. I shrugged my shoulders. It was too late to do anything about the situation now. All I could do was go along with things and pretend to be the businessman's date for the evening.
People parted to let us walk by, and we reached the bar without incident. The folks sitting on either side both scooted farther away, as though they were afraid of catching something from us. Owen ordered another round of drinks. Tonic water for him, gin for me. We didn't speak until after the bartender had filled our order.
"So," Owen murmured. "You want to tell me why you followed Elliot Slater to the other side of the boat in the first place? Or perhaps you'd like to start with why he looked like he was going to rip your arm off and beat you with it?"
