I shrugged again. “I’ve worn a lot of disguises over the years.”
“But you remember that one. You remember that night.” Her voice took on a harsh, accusing note.
“Of course I do. I remember everything about that night.”
She blinked, as if she hadn’t expected me to be so candid. For a moment, rage sparked in her green eyes, the same murderous rage she’d shown that night on the lakeshore. But it quickly vanished, replaced by cold calculation, and her gaze focused on the blue book in my hand. Alanna might want to kill me for murdering her mother, but she still had a job to do for the Circle.
“Well, how nice of you to bring me Mab’s other little blue book,” she replied. “I sent several people to fetch it from you earlier today, but apparently, they weren’t up to the task.”
She looked over at Phelps.
He grimaced, and an angry, embarrassed blush mottled his cheeks. “I told you she had help—”
Alanna snapped up her hand, and Phelps swallowed down the rest of his whiny explanation. She waited a moment, until she was sure that she’d put him back in his place, then crooked her index finger at me.
“Now, if you would be so kind as to hand over Mab’s book, we can finish this.”
I laughed. “Seriously? You think that I’m just going to hand it over to you? No way. We’re making a trade—the book for Mallory and Mosley.”
This time, Alanna laughed. “Seriously?” She mocked me with my own word. “You think you have a chance? I have seven men with me. There’s only one of you, Gin.”
I shrugged for a third time. “And I’ve already killed some of your people today. I’m happy to add to the body count.”
I looked past Alanna at Phelps and the giants, all of whom started shifting on their feet. They knew enough about the Spider to take my threat seriously.
“You really think I’m going to let Stuart go?” Alanna countered. “After everything he’s done to me?”
“You mean setting up that trust fund and making sure that you were financially taken care of for life? Oh, yeah. He’s been a complete and utter bastard to you.”
“He took my home away from me!”
Her voice came out as a shrill screech, her hand clenched into a fist, and I got the impression that she was very close to stamping her foot like an indignant child. I had finally punched some holes in her cool façade, and now all of her pent-up emotions were leaking out for everyone to see. Good. I wanted her angry, I wanted her off-balance. Even better, Phelps and the six giants kept looking from me to their boss and back again, completely caught up in her little hissy fit.
Alanna reined in her temper and focused on me again. “Forget about Stuart. Do you really think I would ever let you go? I spent years searching for the bitch who killed my mother. Do you really think I’m going to trade my revenge on you for some lousy book?”
I spotted a gleam of metal in the woods off to my left, as well as a pale glint in the shadows directly behind the giants.
“Nah.” I grinned at her. “I just needed to keep you busy until my friends could sneak up on your men.”
It took half a second for my words to sink into Alanna’s brain. But when she realized what I meant, she whirled around. “Watch out—”
But she was already too late.
Crack!
A single shot rang out.
Chapter Twenty-One
One of the giants who’d been guarding Mallory pitched to the driveway, dead from the elemental Ice bullet that had just punched through the back of his skull.
Lorelei stepped out of the shadows, dusting the remains of her Ice gun off her hands. She too wore a blue robe over her pajamas. She must have heard Alanna and her men storming into the mansion, because she’d had time to grab something on her way outside: a black leather belt studded with elemental Ice guns.
Lorelei plucked another gun out of its slot, pointed it at the second giant guarding Mallory, and pulled the trigger. The Ice shattered in her hands, but the single bullet zipped through the air and punched into the giant’s skull. His head snapped back, and he too fell to the ground dead.
Lorelei yanked out a third Ice gun, while Mallory dropped to her knees and reached for the dead giant’s weapon so she could join in the fight.
With a loud yell, Owen rushed out of the woods to my left, raised his blacksmith hammer high, and brought it down on the chest of another giant, making that man scream and tumble to the ground. Owen stepped forward and whipped up his hammer for another strike.
One of the giants started to attack Owen from behind, but Mosley rammed his shoulder into that giant’s stomach. The two men went down in a heap, grunting and punching and kicking each other.
Me? I only had eyes for Alanna. I was going to end this—and her—right now.
I tossed my blue book aside, palmed a knife, and rushed toward her. She saw me coming and tossed her book aside as well. Then she snarled, her lips drawing back to reveal her gleaming white fangs. Alanna raised her fists, and I expected her to charge at me. But she held her ground, letting me come to her instead. Too late, I realized why.
Just as I snapped up my knife to bury the blade in her heart, she sidestepped and then swept my legs out from under me, all in one smooth motion. I had just enough time to grab hold of my Stone magic and harden my skin before I hit the pavement.
CRACK!
I wasn’t sure if that was the sound of Lorelei shooting another one of her Ice guns or my head slamming back against the asphalt. My magic absorbed most of the impact, but my brain still rattled around inside my skull, making white stars flash in front of my eyes.
I pushed the pain away and rolled over onto my side, but Alanna stepped up and slammed her boot into my ribs over and over again in a quick, staccato rhythm. She put her vampiric speed and strength into the blows, making me feel every single one, despite the protective shell of my Stone magic.
I’d thought Amelia had been fast and strong, but Alanna easily surpassed her mother in both of those categories, as well as being far more vicious. Alanna wasn’t simply hitting me, she was trying to kick her way through me.
My elemental power was the only thing keeping her from cracking my ribs and driving the bony shards into my lungs, and her blows were coming so fast and furious that I couldn’t even lift my arm to strike back at her with my knife.
“Forget the others! Get Blanco and the books!” Alanna screamed, even as she kept kicking me. “Now!”
Phelps darted away to grab the books from where they had landed, while the two remaining giants ran over to me. The giants’ long legs blocked my view, so I couldn’t see what was happening with my friends. I couldn’t tell if they were still here or if they’d retreated to the safety of the woods. I just hoped they were okay.
Alanna finally stopped kicking me, but before I could recover, she bent down and wrested my knife out of my hand. Then the two giants stepped forward, grabbed my arms, and lifted me off the ground. I kicked and thrashed and struggled, but they easily held me in midair between them, and I felt like a spider suspended in someone else’s web.
“Hold her still,” Alanna snarled.
I reached for my Ice magic to send a spray of daggers shooting out at her and to freeze the two giants holding me. But once again, she was quicker than I was, and her fist cracked against my face. She put all of her strength behind the blow, and a sharp, stunning pain exploded in my mind, filling every single part of my body and overcoming everything else, including my Stone magic.
Lights out.
* * *
Sometime later, I started becoming dimly aware of things. Rough hands digging into my upper arms. The weightless sense of being carried around before my body was twisted into an awkward shape and thrown down. The slap of my cheek against a cold leather seat. The low, throaty rumble of an engine.
I knew that I was in a car and being taken someplace where I most certainly did not want to go, but the pounding pain in my head was too great, and I couldn’t fo
cus, no matter how hard I tried. The steady rocking motion of the car made me drift off again…
Still a while later, I experienced those same sensations again. Rough hands digging into my upper arms. The weightless sense of being carried around before my body was twisted into an awkward shape and thrown down. The slap of my cheek against a cold leather seat.
But this time, instead of the rumble of a car engine, I heard a faint crackling, and a soft light flickered over my face, although I couldn’t open my eyes and see what it was.
Hands roamed over my body, but I couldn’t do anything to stop them. One by one, they took all my knives away, including the two tucked into the sides of my boots. I held my breath, wondering if they would find my phone stuffed inside my sock, but they didn’t notice it.
The hands retreated, and then there was…warmth. This soothing, surprisingly gentle warmth on my face, and I fell down into the blackness again…
The third time I woke up, it was for good. Mainly because I couldn’t ignore the steady tink-tink-tinking, like a fork being continuously tapped against a champagne glass. I focused on the annoying sound. That was exactly what it was. Someone was celebrating at my expense.
All that damn tinking made my head ache even worse, but I forced myself to draw in slow, deep breaths, push the pain to the bottom of my brain, lock it down tight, and freeze it over for good measure. I couldn’t afford to let my injuries get the best of me.
Not if I wanted to survive this.
I opened my eyes and found myself staring up at a gold-framed painting that showed a lovely forest scene, along with a lake and a lavish mansion. I focused on the image for several seconds, letting my eyes adjust to the light, then slowly turned my head from side to side, studying the rest of my surroundings.
I was sprawled across a dark green leather sofa close to a fireplace. Flames crackled merrily behind the iron grate, providing some much-needed warmth in the large, chilly room. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves flanked the fireplace, while thick rugs stretched across the floor.
I was back in the library at the Eaton Estate.
Tink-tink-tink.
And I wasn’t alone.
I slowly pushed myself up to a seated position. More pain rippled through my skull, down my spine, and out into my arms and legs, and it took me a moment to get my breath back.
Freeze it out, Gin. Freeze it out! I ordered myself. Easier said than done, but I managed it.
When I felt steady enough, I looked at the woman perched in the overstuffed armchair in front of the fireplace. Black hair, green eyes, perfect skin. For a moment, my vision blurred, and I thought I was seeing Amelia Eaton. But then I remembered that she was dead, thanks to me, and that I was staring at her mirror image in Alanna.
Her hair had been done up into an elaborate braided bun, and she had exchanged her previous clothes for a familiar outfit: knee-high black boots, tight black pants, and a red jacket with gold buttons running down the front. I remembered those clothes from my nightmares, and I had hoped never to see them again. But here I was, confronted with them yet again, along with a vampire cannibal who was planning to hunt me down and make me her dinner.
Alanna was steadily tink-tink-tinking a fork against the glass of champagne in her other hand. Her black stiletto boots were propped up on the antique wooden table in front of her, and every so often, she would scrape her heels along the wood, like a cat carving up the furniture with its claws.
She didn’t seem to be carrying any weapons, but she didn’t need them, given the four giant guards standing behind her, along with Phelps. I glanced to my left. Two more giants were stationed a few feet away, both of them with their guns out, ready to shoot me if I did anything stupid. She must have called for reinforcements after the fight at the Parker mansion.
Alanna finally stopped that damn tinking and laid the fork down on a table next to her elbow. A second fork was resting on a plate littered with a few crackers, green grapes, and cheese cubes, as though she’d had a snack while she was waiting for me to wake up. An empty glass and an open bottle of champagne also sat on the table.
Instead of looking at me, Alanna held her glass up to the cheery glow coming from the fireplace, almost as if she was toasting herself on a job well done. She admired the bubbles streaking up through the golden liquid for another moment, before closing her eyes, raising the glass to her lips, and taking a delicate sip.
She let out a long, loud, satisfied sigh, apparently enjoying the taste of her champagne more than anything else, but it was just a power play. She wanted to piss me off by not immediately acknowledging my presence, even though she was the one who’d woken me up.
Well, it was working.
Alanna savored her champagne—and her seeming victory—for another moment, before draining the rest of her drink and setting her glass aside. Only then did she deign to take her feet down off the table, open her eyes, and look at me.
“Ah, Gin,” she purred. “I’m so glad that you’re finally awake.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Alanna stared at me, her green eyes gleaming like a cat’s in the flickering glow from the fireplace. Her tongue darted out, and she slowly, deliberately licked her lips, letting me know that she was hungry for far more than champagne—and that I was on her dinner menu.
One nice, bloody Gin Blanco steak coming right up.
Once again, I felt like I’d stepped back in time to the night I’d killed Amelia, since Alanna was threatening me the same way her mother had done back then. I might have had a hand in molding Alanna into who and what she was, but Amelia had corrupted her daughter long before I came along. The hunting, the killing, the cannibalism. That was all on Amelia and Alanna. Like mother, like daughter.
Alanna crooked her finger at me, then waved her hand at the matching armchair across the low table from her. “Come. Sit. Have a drink.”
And just like her mother, she wanted to play with me first before she moved in for the kill. History might be repeating itself tonight, but the outcome was going to be the same as before, and she was going to die screaming at my hand just like her mama had.
I did as she asked and slowly stood up. Not because I was afraid of or intimidated by Alanna, Phelps, or the giants and their guns, but mainly because I wanted to get closer to that table by her elbow.
My head ached at the sudden change in elevation, making me sway on my feet, and it took me a moment to blink the white stars out of my eyes. Even after my vision cleared, I still made a big show of staggering forward, as though I was more injured than I really was. I wobbled by that table next to Alanna, deliberately driving my leg into the side of it. My knee cracked against the wood, making me hiss with real pain and double over.
The sharp blow rattled the snack plate on the table, along with the two glasses and the bottle of champagne, although Phelps hurried forward, elbowed me out of the way, and steadied the table before anything toppled over.
Limping for real this time, I straightened up, hobbled over, and plopped down into the armchair across from Alanna. I reached down with my left hand and massaged my aching knee, rubbing the pain away. I kept my right hand down by my side, though.
All the better to hide the fork that I’d swiped off that snack plate.
Oh, the fork was a small, pitiful tool, to be sure, but I didn’t see my knives anywhere, and I desperately needed some sort of weapon. Besides, anything could be lethal if you were motivated enough, and sitting here watching Alanna smirk motivated me plenty.
So did remembering Mosley’s bruised and battered face, as well as the horrible claw marks that had crisscrossed his body like thin red ribbons. Alanna hadn’t done that simply because she wanted to get information out of him. No, that was the kind of sick, twisted torture she engaged in purely for fun, just like her mother had.
I held my breath, wondering if Alanna would realize what I’d done and order the giants to shoot me, but she stared at me a moment longer, then turned to Phelps.
“Terrence
,” Alanna purred again. “Would you be so kind as to hand me a refill? And pour our guest a drink as well. I wouldn’t want Gin to be thirsty while we have our little chat.”
Chat? Please. Alanna thought she’d won, and she was going to rub her victory in my face for as long as possible. I had no doubt that she’d done this same exact spiel before. The smiling, the talking, the drinking. It was all part of her hunting ritual, and maybe even her mother’s before her. Alanna was trying to lull me into a false sense of security, maybe even give me a chance to beg for my life. Then, when I was at my lowest, weakest, and most desperate point, she would lunge forward and sink her fangs into my neck.
My fingers tightened around the fork still hidden in my hand. Well, this Spider was going to bite back.
Once again, I wondered if Phelps would realize that I’d swiped one of the forks off the table, but he didn’t seem to notice, so I stayed still and quiet while he poured the champagne. He handed one glass to Alanna, who accepted it with an appreciative nod, then turned and held the other glass out to me. I grabbed it with my left hand.
Alanna took a sip of her champagne, sighed with satisfaction again, and wriggled even deeper back into her chair. I rested my glass on my knee and stayed perched on the edge of my seat, digging my boots into the rug, ready to move when the time came.
Alanna sipped a bit more of her champagne, then glanced around the library, admiring the fine furnishings. Her head tilted back, and her gaze focused on the same painting of the estate on the wall that I’d been staring at earlier. After several seconds, she finally dropped her head and looked at me again.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” she said. “The library was always my favorite room. Whenever I was home from school, I used to curl up in this very chair in front of the fireplace and read for hours on end. Then, when Mama was done with her business meetings for the day, we would go hunting in the forest at night. Those are some of my favorite childhood memories.”
Venom in the Veins Page 22