She dragged half of an onion ring through the ketchup on her plate and popped it into her mouth. “Although I have to wonder if he’ll actually live long enough to make it to trial.”
Despite the plethora of crimes in Ashland, the court system actually moved along at a fairly quick pace. Normally, there were never that many cases on the docket, since most folks who committed said crimes were usually found toes-up before their trial dates. Revenge was a bitch, especially in Ashland. Justice wasn’t blind here so much as it was swift—and permanent.
“Even if he does go on trial,” she continued, “there’s always the chance that he could walk. It’s not like judges and juries haven’t been bribed before in this city, and McAllister knows how to work the system better than anyone.”
“Well, if McAllister pulls that particular rabbit out of his hat, I may have to revisit my original plan for him.”
Bria took a drink of her milkshake and looked at me. “You really think all the news stories about McAllister and the museum heist will bring Mab’s relative to Ashland?”
I shrugged. “It can’t hurt. The will was made public, what, two days ago? If I were in line to inherit all those millions, I’d be making a beeline to town lickety-split.”
Worry tightened her pretty face. She fiddled with the primrose rune around her throat a moment before dropping her hand and twisting around the two rings that she wore, the ones with snowflakes and ivy vines carved into them. “Who do you think this person is? Do you think he or she is anything like Mab?”
I knew what she was really asking—if Mab’s relative was going to be as big a threat to us as the Fire elemental herself had been.
I’d gone over it a thousand times in my mind, but the truth was that I had no way of knowing. Maybe this person would take Mab’s money and go back to wherever he or she had come from. Maybe he or she would stick around in Ashland and live the high life. Or maybe the heir would be just as cruel and power-hungry as Mab had been. But the carrot had been dangled out there. Now all that was left to do was to see who snatched it off the stick.
“I don’t know,” I said. “But no matter what happens, we’ll be ready for M. M. Monroe, and we’ll face him or her down—together.”
She nodded. “That we will.”
Bria finished up her food. One of the other diners needed a refill on his water, so I left my sister at the counter while I moved through the restaurant and made sure that everyone had everything they needed. I had put the pitcher of water down and was sliding back onto my stool when the bell over the front door chimed. I looked past Bria, wondering who my latest customer might be.
To my surprise, Owen strolled into the Pork Pit.
34
Owen must have left work for the day, because he wore a light gray suit and a pair of polished black wing tips, although he’d already taken off his tie and unbuttoned the top of his white shirt.
My eyes traced over him from head to toe, drinking in the sight of him. We hadn’t talked since that night at Briartop. I’d thought about calling Owen a dozen times, but I didn’t know what to say to him, especially since his friend was dead because of me. Even if it had been a cruel twist of fate. I’d hoped that he might call, but he hadn’t, and I hadn’t seen or heard from him—until now.
Bria noticed me staring over her shoulder and turned to see who I was looking at. After a moment, she swiveled back around to me. “I take it that you and Owen are still up in the air?”
I grimaced. “Something like that.”
“You should go talk to him.”
I watched as Owen walked over to one of the booths in front of the storefront windows and took a seat. Since the waitresses were still on break in the back, Sophia grabbed a menu, walked around the counter, crossed the restaurant, and handed it to Owen. He took it and gave her a smile before his gaze drifted over to me. After a moment, Owen lifted his hand and waved at me. I returned the gesture before turning my attention back to Bria.
“Even if I don’t know what to say?”
“Even if,” she replied. “The two of you are good together, Gin. All I’m saying is don’t give up on him just yet. He may still surprise you.”
“It’s hard, though,” I said in a soft voice. “So hard. He broke my heart.”
It was something I hadn’t admitted to anyone. I’d barely acknowledged it myself. But Owen keeping his distance from me after I’d killed Salina, well, it had hurt. I hadn’t expected him to be happy about what I’d done, but I hadn’t expected him to go completely radio-silent either. Oh, I knew why he’d done it, and I probably would have done the same if our positions had been reversed. But it had still broken my heart and brought all of my old fears and worries roaring back to the surface. Fears that Owen wouldn’t be able to accept me any longer for who I was and what I’d done to the woman he’d loved—even if I’d had reasons for my brutal actions.
“Go on,” Bria said. “You’re not going to solve anything just standing there staring at him.”
“Since when are you playing the part of the big sister?”
“Since now.” She grinned. “Now, get.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said, giving her a small salute with my hand.
Then I squared my shoulders, lifted my chin, and went to see what he wanted.
* * *
I followed the faded, peeling, blue and pink pig tracks on the floor all the way over to Owen, who sat in a booth in the back close to the restrooms.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hi.” He smiled. “Can you sit for a minute? I’d like to talk—if that’s okay.”
“Sure.”
I slid into the opposite side of the booth from him. Sophia raised her eyebrows and gave me a questioning glance, but I waved, telling her to finish what she was doing. Owen wasn’t here to eat. Instead, he stared at me, and I looked back at him. Perhaps it was my imagination, but his violet gaze seemed clearer than I remembered—calmer too. As if he’d finally made peace with some of his demons. I wondered if any of them were Salina—or maybe even me.
“I went to Jillian’s funeral yesterday,” he finally said.
I nodded. I hadn’t gone to the service, although I’d sent flowers and made a hefty donation to Jillian’s favorite charity. I also had Finn working on a way to quietly slip Jillian’s family enough money so they wouldn’t have to worry about anything for the rest of their lives. But I hadn’t thought it was right for me to show up at her funeral when I was the reason she’d been killed to start with. I knew the money wouldn’t make up for anything either, but it was all I could do to help those she’d left behind.
“It was a nice service, as far as those things go,” Owen said. “She was well liked. Lots of friends there, along with her brother.”
I nodded again. There was nothing I could say to make Owen feel better or ease my own guilt.
“The folks who were there were happy that McAllister had been arrested,” he continued. “Especially her brother. He was glad that Jillian was going to get the justice that she deserved, and so am I.”
“Are you upset that I didn’t kill McAllister?” I asked. “Because I thought about it. I thought long and hard about it.”
He shrugged. “I’d like to see the bastard suffer for everything he’s done to all of us. I’m okay with your decision.”
I hadn’t spoken to Owen, but I knew that Bria and Xavier had filled him in on everything McAllister had said, including the lawyer’s plan to implicate him in the robbery.
“But I didn’t come here to talk about McAllister,” he said.
“Then what did you come here to talk about?”
“Salina.”
“Oh. That.”
“Yeah. That.”
He stared at me, his eyes steady on mine. “I’m okay about Salina. I understand why you did what you did, Gin.”
Those were the words I’d hoped to hear, but that sad, dull, resigned tone still clouded his voice. The one that told me that he might understand, but he hadn’t rea
lly accepted it yet. Still, I wanted to hear what he had to say.
“What changed?”
Owen shrugged. “Nothing. Everything. I don’t know. I’ve spent the last few weeks thinking about Salina and everything that happened. Replaying it over and over again in my mind. I told you that at the museum.”
I nodded.
“But no matter what I think, I can’t see things ending any differently from how they did. I even hired a private investigator to dig into her past for me, everything that she’d done since she’d left Ashland. He gave me the report a few days ago. It wasn’t pretty. She was married several times. Did you know that?”
“Yes. Finn found out.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked. “Especially that all of her husbands looked like me? And that she killed every single one of them with her water magic?”
I shrugged. “I thought about it. But after everything that happened, I wasn’t sure how to tell you. I wasn’t sure that you’d want to know.”
I wasn’t sure that it would have made any difference, since you loved her so much.
I didn’t say the words, but that had been my main fear. That Owen had loved Salina so much that he would forgive her even that. That he would never get over what I’d done to her. That he could accept all of her awful actions but not mine. That she’d always have more of his heart than I ever would, despite all of the terrible things she’d done.
He nodded. “I suppose I can understand that too.”
“So what changed?” I asked, repeating my earlier question. “Why are you here now?”
He stared down at the tabletop for several seconds before finally lifting his gaze to mine. His violet eyes burned with emotion. “Because part of me shattered when I thought that you were dead.”
My breath caught in my throat, even as hope blossomed in my chest. There were so many things I wanted to say to him, but I held my tongue. This was Owen’s chance to speak, and I wanted to hear what he had to say, all of it—no matter how good, bad, or ugly it might be.
“When Clementine threw Jillian’s body into the middle of the rotunda, and I thought it was you, when I thought that you were dead . . .” Owen’s voice trailed off, and the memory and pain of that moment etched lines of anguish into his face. “It ripped me apart inside. Not just that you were gone but how things were between us. How I’d left things between us. I couldn’t believe that I’d never get the chance to tell you how I felt about you.”
“And how is that?” I whispered.
He looked me in the eye. “I love you, Gin. That hasn’t changed, even with everything that’s happened between us. I love you. I’ll always love you.”
“But?”
He sighed. “But every time I close my eyes, I still see Salina lying there, reaching for me, asking me to save her. And I feel guilty that I didn’t.”
“You didn’t have a choice. I took that away from you when I had Finn hold you at gunpoint.”
He nodded again. “Maybe you did, but I still felt like I should have tried harder, fought harder. Can you understand that?”
I let out a tense breath. “I do, because I feel the same way about Jillian. Like I should have been able to save her, even though I didn’t know anything about McAllister’s plans.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Owen said.
“And Salina wasn’t yours. Not what she did to Eva or Phillip or Cooper. Not what she did to those ex-husbands of hers or what she tried to do to everyone at her estate.”
We fell silent, lost in our own thoughts, in our own guilt about everything we’d done and all the regrets we had. Finally, after a few minutes, I spoke once more.
“Salina might be dead,” I said, “but that doesn’t change things. It doesn’t change me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that Salina’s not just a onetime thing. It could happen again. I could choose to do something that you don’t approve of. You might disagree, you might tell me all the reasons not to do something, and I might just do it anyway, because I think it’s the right thing to do.”
It was something I’d been thinking about ever since I’d had those dreams about the Delov hit all those years ago. Fletcher had been right when he’d said that I’d hurt the people I cared about. That’s what I’d done to Owen when I’d killed Salina. But the old man had also been right about something else: that I’d rather have Owen alive and hating me than dead by Salina’s hand.
This simple fact had helped me make peace with the water elemental’s death and my part in it. More than that, it had helped me come to terms with what was happening between me and Owen now. I would always love him, but I would understand if he couldn’t get past this. I would understand if I’d ended us when I’d killed Salina. It hurt—it would always hurt—but I would accept it and move on. Because no matter what, Owen was alive, and Salina wasn’t, and that was all that I really cared about.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“Because if things are going to work between us—really work—then you need to understand this about me,” I said. “I will do whatever I have to in order to protect the people I love—even if they don’t like my actions. Even if they hate me for them.”
He sat there and studied me, his gaze tracing over the smooth set of my shoulders, the determination in my face, and finally, the certainty blazing in my eyes.
“And what if you’re wrong about something?” he asked. “What then?”
“Then I’ll be wrong. And I’ll live with that—and all the consequences of my actions.”
He studied me a moment longer. “I think I understand what you’re trying to say.”
“So where do we go from here?”
Instead of answering me, he tapped his fingers on the table for several seconds before abruptly stopping. He hesitated a moment longer before answering me. “I don’t know. I just don’t know yet.”
I didn’t say anything else. I didn’t know what was left to say. We weren’t back together, but maybe we weren’t as far apart as we’d been. And for the first time, that spark of hope in my heart didn’t snuff itself out. Oh, it flickered and sputtered, but it kept right on burning, and I knew that it would until things were finally settled between us—one way or the other.
After a moment, Owen smiled at me. “I actually had another reason for coming by today. I wanted to give you something.”
“What?”
He reached inside his jacket and drew out a long, rectangular black velvet box, the sort of box you’d think would contain expensive jewelry. I wasn’t much for jewelry, other than my spider rune ring, so the box probably held something else. Perhaps a knife or some other small weapon that Owen might have crafted. Although I had no idea why he would hand me a weapon now, given that I’d killed Salina with one of the knives he’d made for me.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Just something I thought you should have.”
I wondered at his mysterious words, but before I could ask him what he meant, Owen slid out of his side of the booth and got to his feet.
“Anyway,” he said, “I’m headed over to the riverboat to check on Phillip and Eva.”
“How is Phillip?”
Owen shook his head. “Complaining like usual, even though Jo-Jo fully healed him at the museum. Eva’s been on the boat all week, staying right by his side.”
I arched an eyebrow. “And what are you going to do about that?”
He sighed. “I haven’t decided yet. Got any ideas?”
“Is Eva too old to send to a convent?”
Owen laughed—the first genuine laugh I’d heard from him in weeks. He grinned at me, and for a moment, everything was perfect, and I felt like we were the Gin and Owen of old.
His laughter and his smile slowly faded away, the way these things always do. But the warmth lingered in his eyes, and there wasn’t as much tension between us as there had been before.
He nodded at me once, then turned and left the restaurant.
/>
I stayed where I was, reached out, and picked up the box. I hefted it, and it felt surprisingly light in my hand. Probably not a weapon after all.
I put the box back down on the table and slowly cracked open the top. A surprised gasp escaped my lips.
My mother’s and sister’s rune necklaces lay inside the box, Eira’s snowflake and Annabella’s curling ivy vine.
Sunlight slanted across the table, making the silverstone runes gleam. Both necklaces looked absolutely perfect, as though they’d just been made a moment before. Even the chains looked brand-new, as though they and the runes had never even been touched, even though my mother and my sister had worn them every single day, just like Bria did her primrose necklace and I did my spider rune ring. All the black, ashy, sooty remains of Mab’s elemental Fire had been scrubbed off the runes, making them bright, shiny, and clean.
“How—when—” Words failed me, even though I was only sputtering to myself.
I hadn’t told anyone about seeing the rune necklaces at the Briartop, because I hadn’t thought there was a chance that I could somehow find them. I hadn’t wanted to get Bria’s or even my own hopes up, so I’d kept quiet, although I had asked Finn to get me a list of all the items from Mab’s exhibit that had been recovered. But the necklaces hadn’t been on it, so I’d figured that someone had swiped them in the confusion and chaos.
I’d never thought that someone would turn out to be Owen.
My head snapped up, searching for him, wondering if I could run out the door, catch him, and tell him how much the runes meant to me.
But I didn’t have to, because he was standing right outside, watching me through the window. We stared at each other for a moment.
“Thank you,” I finally mouthed.
I pressed my palm against the window, and I let him see the hope in my eyes—my hope for us. Owen smiled for a moment, and I saw the answering warmth in his gaze. He leaned over and pressed his hand to mine, even though the glass separated us.
Deadly Sting Page 29