While Roslyn lay on the bed, letting Jo-Jo's ointment patch up the worst of her wounds, I opened one of the closet doors, looking for something else for her to wear-something that didn't have her own blood all over it. To my surprise, a variety of women's clothing was mixed in among Elliot Slater's oversize suits. I grabbed some pants, a sweater, socks, shoes, and even some clean underwear from the interior and tossed them to Roslyn.
"Take off those bloody rags, and put these on," I said in a gentle voice. "And then we'll get you the hell out of here."
The vamp did as I commanded, even though her movements were still slow and stiff, despite the healing ointment. I helped her as best I could. When she finished, I dug another small tin out of one of my vest pockets and handed it to her.
"Here. Put this one on your face. It's more of Jo-Jo's ointment. It'll hold you together long enough for you to get to the dwarf so she can heal you up properly."
Roslyn's hands shook so badly that I took the tin back from her, dipped my fingers into the ointment, and slathered it on her face.
"Sorry for the rush," I murmured. "But Elliot Slater's got Finn downstairs, and I need to get to him before Slater kills him."
"Finn's... down there?" Roslyn rasped, letting me work on her face.
"Yeah," I replied. "Seems he had the same idea about rescuing you that I did. Offered himself up as a distraction so I could slip inside the mansion."
Some of the swelling went down on Roslyn's face, and I saw the gleam of tears in her toffee eyes.
"No matter what happens," she rasped. "Thank you... Gin... for coming... for me."
The vamp fumbled about until she wrapped her bloody hand around mine. I gently squeezed her trembling fingers.
"You're welcome," I said. "Now let's get you out of here."
While I waited for Jo-Jo's healing ointment to put Roslyn's face back in some kind of working order, I questioned the vamp about how many more guards there might be inside the house.
"How many have you killed already?" she asked.
"Four."
She nodded. "There should be two left, besides Slater."
"Where would they be?" I asked, checking my silverstone knives and the two swords still strapped to my back.
"If you say he's got Finn, then the two guards will be downstairs with Slater," she replied. "He always likes to have at least two men with him when he's working on someone. That's where he took me first. When he got tired of hitting me, he brought me up here. One of his men came in and got him before he could-"
Her voice broke on the last few words, and I gave her a minute to compose herself, even though every second I delayed was another second that Finn got the shit beat out of him. I didn't know if I could stand it if my foster brother ended up the same way that I had that night at the community college when Slater had pummeled me. Just looking at Roslyn made me want to rewind time, go back, and kill all the bastards who had hurt her again-slowly. But I couldn't do that. All I could do was go forward and hope that I got to Finn in time.
I opened the bedroom door and peered out into the hallway. Everything was just as hushed as it had been before. I whispered to Roslyn to keep close to me and keep quiet. The vamp nodded.
I eased down the hallway. About thirty feet past the bedroom door, the right wall opened up, revealing the enormous living room a floor below. I got down on my hands and knees, crawled forward, and peered around the corner, through the wide slats of the banister that ringed the outer wall.
A floor below me, Elliot Slater stood in the middle of the living room, unbuttoning the sleeves of his pale blue shirt. A giant stood on either side of him, slightly behind their boss. The two men had their hands clasped in front of them, just like good little soldiers would. Their shirt sleeves were already rolled up, their hands already stained with blood-Finn's blood.
Finnegan Lane was chained up to a stone column that supported the ceiling several stories above his head. Silverstone cuffs glinted around his hands. The cuffs had been tied to a matching chain that hung on a hook above his head, keeping Finn's arms up. An uncomfortable position made worse by the obvious beating he'd already taken. Bruises blossomed like purple and blue irises on Finn's cheeks. The two giants had roughed him up a bit already, no doubt getting him ready for Elliot Slater's personal attention, but Finn didn't seem to be in too bad shape. He was still breathing, which was the most important thing.
Cold rage burned in Finn's eyes as he watched Slater start rolling up his sleeves. Every once in a while, Finn rattled his cuffs, testing them for any hint of weakness. But there was none. Still, his face was guarded and watchful. He hadn't given up hope of escaping, of getting the upper hand, even without my help. Finn would never give up any more than I would. The old man had taught him better than that. Still, Finn's fighting spirit warmed my heart.
Once I'd fixed the position of everyone and everything in the room in my mind, I slithered back down the hallway to where Roslyn slouched against the wall, waiting.
"Slater's down there with two of his men," I whispered. "He's got Finn chained up to a stone column."
Roslyn nodded. "That's where he likes to start with people. He's got another room on this floor for really difficult cases. Most people don't make it up here."
"I want you to get the hell out of here," I whispered. "Slip out the side door where the pool is, go to the garage, get one of Slater's cars, and leave. There's a gas station at the bottom of the hill. My Benz is parked down there. Get in, and use one of the cell phones in the glove box to call the Deveraux sisters. They'll come and help you. Xavier too. In case things don't go well for Finn and me up here. Can you do that for me? Can you make it to the garage?"
Roslyn nodded. "I can make it that far. What are you going to do?"
I palmed my two silverstone knives and held them up where she could see them. "Finish this-one way or another."
Roslyn disappeared down the hallway, and I eased back to where the balcony was. Slater and his men had their backs to me, and I moved to the other side of the hallway, where it was solid once more. They never even looked up. My eyes went to an iron chandelier that hung down from the ceiling. That would work just fine.
"Finnegan Lane," Elliot Slater rumbled, stepping forward so that he was directly in front of my foster brother. The giant had finished securing one shirt sleeve and had gone to work on the other one. "A strange place to meet."
"So it seems," Finn replied in a chipper voice, despite his bruised features.
"Care to tell me what the fuck you're doing up here on my land?" Slater asked.
"Technically, it's not your land, is it? It belongs to your boss, Mab Monroe. You're just the caretaker of the place, so to speak. Part of the cleanup crew. Just like you've always been."
Finn finished his insult with a toothy grin. Slater's fingers stilled on the fabric of his shirt sleeve, as though he was thinking about lunging forward and punching Finn, but the giant wasn't that easily baited.
"I'll ask you again," Slater said. "What are you doing here?"
"I was looking for a friend of mine," Finn said. "Roslyn Phillips. I think you know her. Care to tell me where she is?"
This time, it was the giant's turn to smile. "Oh, Roslyn's a bit tied up at the moment, just like she's been for the past few hours. Just like she's going to be for some time to come. Until I get tired of the bitch and break her neck with my bare hands."
Finn couldn't help himself-he spat at the giant and his vile words. Slater calmly wiped the spittle off his face, then backhanded Finn. The sound of the giant's palm striking Finn's skin was as loud as a gunshot in the quiet house. Finn grunted with pain, and Slater closed his hand into a fist and punched him. A cut opened up above Finn's left eye, and blood covered that side of his face.
My hands tightened on my knives, but I didn't make a sound. I wanted to give Roslyn as much of a head start as possible, in case Slater and his men killed Finn and me and realized that the vamp was missing. Which meant that Finn was going to have to get slapped around some more. My stomach twisted at the thought, but it was something that we both were just going to have to endure. Wouldn't be the first time.
"You know, I thought I was just going to have some fun tonight with Roslyn," Elliot said. "But imagine my surprise and delight when you show up on my doorstep to add to the festivities."
"I know," Finn replied. "I decided to come to you. Save you some trouble. Since you turned tail and ran the last time we met."
Slater froze for a second. The giant finished rolling up his remaining shirtsleeve before he looked at Finn again. "And when was that?"
Finn stared at the giant. "Why, the night you went to kill Detective Bria Coolidge," he drawled. "That didn't end so well for you, if I remember. How many men did you lose that night? Three? Four? It was hard to keep track with all the blood and bodies everywhere."
This time, Slater's hazel eyes were the ones that narrowed with rage. "That was you?"
Another smile spread across Finn's battered face. "Oh yes. Most fun I've had all week."
Slater studied Finn for several seconds. "You were the one with the gun. The one who shot Jim in the face."
Finn tipped his head in acknowledgment.
"I see."
Slater stepped forward and drove his fist into Finn's stomach. It happened so fast, with such speed, I thought for a moment that I'd imagined it. Until Finn spit up a mouthful of his own blood. Elliot Slater had some of the quickest hands that I'd ever seen.
But Slater didn't stop with one blow. Instead, the giant slammed one fist into Finn's face. I heard the crack as his nose broke all the way up here on the balcony. Slater's other fist plowed into Finn's stomach again. Finn moaned, and more blood spewed out of his lips. That cold ball of rage began to burn in the pit of my stomach once more.
"I can keep this up for hours, Lane. Hours," Slater rumbled. "Until you are begging me to stop the pain, to just end you. Now, you're going to tell me exactly why you were at Coolidge's house that night, and why you're so fucking interested in my business."
The giant didn't have to add an or else to his threat. He and Finn already knew how to play the game-and they both realized that Elliot Slater currently held all the cards. Except for one. Me. The queen of spades.
Finn's head rolled back and up as he tried not to choke on his own blood. I scooted forward just a bit, so that the edge of my knife caught the light and flashed silver. Finn saw the gleam. His green eyes widened for a second before he shuttered them and slowly lowered his head.
"All right," Finn mumbled. "I'll tell you why I was there. Because I know about Bria Coolidge. Because I know who she really is."
That got Slater's attention. The giant's whole body stilled. He didn't even blink. "And just who is she, Lane?"
Finn looked up at him. "Her real name is Snow. Bria Elizabeth Snow."
Elliot Slater didn't react. Didn't move, didn't flinch. Hell, he didn't even take a breath. Then the giant abruptly turned away from Finn and walked around the stone column, moving out of Finn's line of sight. I drew back into the hallway so that Slater wouldn't see me lurking on the balcony above. The other two giants maintained their positions below me, watching the show with detached interest. They looked like the same two goons who had held me up for Slater that night at the community college. Didn't much matter. They were getting dead regardless.
But what I didn't understand was what Finn thought he was doing telling Elliot Slater that he knew who Bria really was. Did he want the giant to kill him before I could take Slater out? Had the giant's blows scrambled Finn's brains even more than they already were? Because Finn was dangerously close to singing not only his swan song but mine too. To telling Slater everything about us, what we did, and why.
Finn coughed up some more blood and spat it on the carpet. "Come on, Elliot," he said in a friendly voice. "You're not going to deny it, are you? That's hardly sporting, considering that I'm the one in cuffs and you're not."
The giant finished his circuit around the stone column and stopped in front of Finn once more. "So what if Coolidge's real name is Snow? That doesn't mean anything to me."
"Sure it does," Finn countered. "Because that's why you were there to kill Bria. That's why your boss, Mab Monroe, wants her dead. Because she's Bria Snow, and because Mab murdered her family seventeen years ago."
Silence.
Slater held his position, as still and quiet as the stone column before him. But Finn wasn't finished dropping bombs on the giant-or me.
"You've been working for Mab a long time now, haven't you, Elliot?" Finn murmured. "Twenty-five years by my calculation. You've been her right-hand man from the very beginning. Which means you were there that night. You were there the night that Mab murdered the Snow family."
I flashed back to that night, to my frantic run through my burning house, to the giant's fist slamming into my face. I'd only seen him a second before he'd punched me. Just long enough to notice how pale he was. Almost... albino.
Slater didn't say anything, but a muscle twitched in his chalky cheek. All the confirmation that I needed. My breath rushed out of my lungs as I realized what Finn was up to. My foster brother was trying to get some answers for me-answers about what had really happened the night that Mab Monroe had murdered my mother and older sister. And I'd be damned if I had the willpower to stop him right now.
