Thread of Death

by Jennifer Estep

  At first, nothing happened, except that Blanco said a few soft words to the coffin that I couldn’t quite hear. Then the dwarves appeared. I thought they’d merely come to dig Mab’s grave, but they crept up on Blanco and attacked while her back was turned.

  I thought about shouting a warning, showing myself, and stepping into the fight, but Blanco didn’t need my help. She moved with ease and grace, like the knife in her hand was a natural extension of her own body: Owen’s work, I’d wager. He’d always enjoyed making weapons, and what better present to give his assassin lover than a knife or two?

  It was one thing to think that Blanco was an assassin; it was another to see her handiwork for myself. She was as impressive and dangerous as McAllister claimed, striking quickly, brutally, and ruthlessly, with no wasted movements, no hesitation, and no remorse.

  I watched Blanco stab the last dwarf to death. She slumped over his body and then rolled over onto the ground, and I thought she might be injured herself. But after a few seconds she got back up on her feet. She looked down at the dwarf, her face cold and dispassionate, then slid her bloody knife up her sleeve with no more thought than most people would give to tucking spare change into their pocket. Definitely no remorse there. I liked that about her.

  “Wow,” a voice whispered in my ear. “She really is an assassin. She really is the Spider.”

  I looked at the giant hunkered down in the grass beside me: Antonio Mendez, my right-hand man and my friend, one of the few that I had these days.

  “It appears so,” I murmured. “For once, McAllister actually told the truth about something.”

  Now all that was left was to decide what I was going to do with the information. Unlike McAllister, I didn’t want Blanco dead. No, I had something else in mind for her. I’d heard some nasty rumors lately about an old enemy of mine who was coming back to Ashland, and I was thinking that Blanco was the perfect person to help me with my problem. I just needed to convince Blanco of that. But it wouldn’t take much doing. Not when she realized who my enemy really was—and what a threat that person was going to be to her and what she loved.

  I thought my enemy had shown her face here today—that mysterious woman in black. Rage had filled my whole body, and I was tempted to pull out my gun and start blasting at her. But I watched her, and I realized the mystery woman wasn’t who I’d thought she was. Oh, no. My enemy wouldn’t have been content to stay in the background like that. I didn’t know who the mystery woman was, and I didn’t really care. No, I had much bigger worries right now, like figuring out exactly when my enemy would return to Ashland—and finally come after me.

  “Now what?” Antonio whispered, breaking into my thoughts.

  I looked at Blanco, but all she did was face the coffin and lower her head to it again.

  “Come on,” I said. “Let’s go and let her pay her respects in peace. I think she’s earned it.”

  Antonio and I slipped away from Mab’s grave site. I wanted a few minutes to think about what I’d just seen, so I told Antonio that I’d walk to the front of the cemetery and meet him there. The giant nodded and went to get the car from where he’d parked it on the back side of the cemetery.

  I slowly wandered through the cemetery, looking at all the tombstones and the names of those buried here. I should have been planted a long time ago in some pauper’s grave, but I’d managed to survive against the odds. Something I had in common with Blanco, I supposed.

  I was so engrossed in my thoughts about the assassin that I didn’t even see Owen until I was twenty feet away from him.

  He was leaning against his car, lost in his own thoughts, but he turned at the scuff of my footsteps in the grass. Owen straightened up at the sight of me. His whole body stiffened, and the old, familiar anger blazed in his eyes. Even now, after all these years, he still hated me for what he thought I’d done. I couldn’t decide whether I despised him or pitied him for being such a fool, for not realizing that I wasn’t the villain—that I never had been. We’d been friends once—brothers, even—but that was gone now, long gone, destroyed in an instant by vicious lies and Owen’s inability to see through them.

  Still, I couldn’t stop myself from veering in his direction and halting right in front of him.

  “Owen.” I nodded my head politely at him.

  “Phillip,” he muttered through clenched teeth.

  “Come to pay your respects, I see.”

  Owen shrugged.

  He might hate me, but we had some similar business interests, so he had to deal with and even speak to me on occasion. I went out of my way to make him interact with me as often as possible. It pleased me to see his jaw clench when I knew that all he really wanted to do was punch me. Childish of me, but it was the only revenge I could force myself to take—on Owen, anyway. It wasn’t completely his fault things had turned out like they had.

  “And Gin?” I asked. “Did she come to pay her respects as well?”

  Owen’s eyes narrowed. “What do you know about Gin?”

  This time I shrugged. “Just what all the rumors say. That she’s the assassin the Spider. That she’s the one who killed Mab. Then, of course, there was the display she put on here today. Going after that sniper wasn’t exactly a smart move, if you ask me. All she’s done is draw attention to and set herself up to be a target for the other crime bosses. I imagine almost all of them will want her dead now.”

  “What do you know about the sniper?” Owen demanded, his hands clenching into fists. “Did you hire him to kill Gin? Were you behind the attack today?”

  “Of course not,” I snapped. “If I were going after Gin, I would go after her myself—not hire someone to do it for me. I’m man enough to do my own dirty work. So were you, once upon a time. I’d thought you’d remember that, given all those clever jobs we pulled together.”

  Owen stared at me with suspicion, but after a moment he forced himself to relax. It seemed like he was going to believe me—about this anyway. “So if it wasn’t you, then who do you think was behind the sniper attack?”

  “McAllister, I imagine,” I said. “He’s looking for work, and some of the other bosses haven’t been very . . . kind to him. Too bad he hired someone with lousy aim. Or maybe he just wanted your friend to show everyone exactly who she is and confirm all the nasty rumors he’s been spreading about her. Either way, McAllister wins.”

  I hesitated. “But let’s talk about more pleasant things. How’s Eva?”

  I knew it was the wrong thing to say, but I couldn’t stop myself from asking the question. I missed Eva. I missed a lot of things—things that had unfairly been taken away from me. Things that I thought Blanco just might be able to help me get back—finally, after all these years.

  The anger flared up in Owen’s eyes again. “Don’t you dare ask me anything about Eva,” he snarled. “Don’t you even think about my sister.”

  I held up my hands. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m just one old friend asking after another.”

  “Well, don’t,” he snapped. “And we aren’t friends. Not anymore. Not in years now.”

  “Believe me, I know. You’ve never let me forget that.”

  “What does that mean?” Owen snapped again.

  I thought about telling him what I meant, about what had really happened all those years ago, but he wouldn’t listen to me. He hadn’t back then, and he wouldn’t now.

  It was his stubborn refusal to believe me that hurt the worse, despite how much time had passed.

  A beep sounded, saving me from answering. Antonio steered the car down the narrow road. The giant stopped a few feet away and beeped again.

  “Well,” I drawled. “It looks like my ride is here. A pleasure seeing you again, Owen. Just like it always is.”

  He glared at me. I started to head toward the car but stopped after a few steps. Even now, after what he’d done to me, part of me still cared about him—enough to turn around and let him know what was going on.

  “You should go chec
k on your friend,” I said. “She had a rough time of it at Mab’s coffin.”

  “What do you mean?” Owen asked again.

  Instead of answering him, I just smiled, my blue eyes as cold as his were. “She really is something. I look forward to getting to know Gin better in the future. It’ll be here sooner than you think.”

  Owen’s knuckles cracked as his fists tightened that much more. He took a step forward, but I turned my back on him, walked over to the car, and got inside. I’d just shut the passenger door behind me when Blanco hobbled into view, covered with blood. Owen glared at me a final time before hurrying over to her. I watched him put his arms around her, and I almost felt sorry for the poor bastard. He had no idea what was coming, but I did—and I was going to be ready for it.

  “Phillip?” Antonio asked.

  “Let’s go,” I said. “I’m done here.”

  My friend put the car in gear and drove out of the cemetery. I looked in the passenger-side mirror, getting a final glimpse of Owen and his new love before we rounded a curve and they disappeared from sight.

  I sighed. Maybe Owen wasn’t the only fool here. Maybe I was, too, for still caring about him, for still wanting to protect him from what was coming. I wondered if Gin felt the same way—and what she’d do when she learned the truth about me, Owen, and our checkered past together.

  A past that was going to come to light soon—very, very soon.

  Gin Blanco

  I left the dwarves’ bodies where they were and slid my bloody knife up my sleeve. Now that the funeral and fight were over, the black coffin seemed smaller than I remembered, its surface looking dull and tarnished.

  Still, I couldn’t help but think of the irony of the situation. The remains of my mortal enemy were in that coffin. I’d thought my battle with Mab was finally over with, but I’d just added three more bodies to the cemetery’s count—and the Fire elemental hadn’t even been buried yet. Maybe it was fitting that I’d had to fight for my life at Mab’s grave site, just like I’d been battling her these last few months.

  So I lowered my head once more, paying my last respects to the woman who had been such a big part of my life for so long.

  “Good-bye, Mab,” I said. “It was a hell of a fight while it lasted.”

  The sunburst rune on the side glimmered at me a final time, almost like it was blinking in agreement, before I turned away from the coffin.

  I slowly hobbled through the cemetery, wincing every time I put my weight on my left foot, and trying to come to terms with my feelings. I guess part of me had foolishly hoped with Mab dead that I could just go back to my quiet life as Gin Blanco, restaurant owner. But after today, I knew that wasn’t going to happen—not after everyone had gotten an eyeful of me at the funeral, chasing after the sniper and then getting him out of the tree. No, unless I’d missed my guess, I’d just brought myself a whole lot of unwanted attention. All that remained to be seen was how it played out, but I was willing to bet it was going to involve me fighting for my life.

  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.

  KEEP READING FOR AN EXCERPT FROM

  By a Thread

  BY JENNIFER ESTEP

  AVAILABLE FROM POCKET BOOKS IN MARCH 2012

  When killing people is your job,

  there’s no such thing as a vacation.

  Then again, how often does an assassin live long enough to enjoy her retirement? In this line of work, you either get lucky or you get dead. And since I destroyed my nemesis Mab Monroe a few weeks ago, all of Ashland’s lowlifes are gunning to make a name for themselves by taking out the lethal Spider—me, Gin Blanco. So I’m leaving behind my beloved barbecue joint and heading south with my baby sister, Bria, to cool my heels in a swanky beach town. Call it a weekend of fun in the sun. But when a powerful vampire with deadly elemental magic threatens an old friend of Bria’s, it looks like I’ll have to dig my silverstone knives out of my suitcase after all. Complicating matters further is the reappearance of Detective Donovan Caine, my old lover. But Donovan is the least of my problems. Because this time, the danger is hot on my trail, and not even my elemental Ice and Stone magic may be enough to save me from getting buried in the sand—permanently.