Sharpest Sting

by Jennifer Estep

  A couple of weeks ago, I’d gotten an idea about one of the folks in the Ashland underworld, and I’d dug out the old man’s file on that individual. I had also conducted my own discreet investigation into the person in question, but Fletcher’s information and observations had been spot-on, and I had agreed with his conclusions. Now it was up to me whether to go through with my crazy plan.

  Decision time.

  I grabbed my phone and pulled up a message I’d saved in the drafts folder a few days ago. My thumb hovered over the button, and I thought of the dead giants lying in the cemetery, just waiting for Hugh Tucker to come find them. Death was the one thing nobody could undo, not even me, and my decision had been made the second I killed those two men.

  I hit the send button.

  Less than five minutes later, my phone chimed with a new message. On my way.

  Short and sweet, just how I liked things. Good. Maybe this would go better than I thought.

  I grabbed the bottle of gin, the other glass, and the folder and left the office. I stopped long enough to shrug into a coat from one of the downstairs closets and carried everything out onto the front porch to wait for my guest. I’d already had my date night with Owen, and now it was time for my final nightcap.

  From Fletcher’s file and my own investigation, I knew that he lived nearby, and it didn’t take him long to arrive. Fifteen minutes later, the crunch of gravel sounded, a pair of headlights popped into view, and a baby-blue sports car crested the hill and stopped in the driveway.

  I was sitting in a rocking chair, with the bottle of gin, the glasses, and the folder on a table beside me. I took another sip of my drink and watched while a man climbed out of the car, smoothed down his long navy overcoat, and headed in my direction.

  He was alone, although I was betting he had at least one gun tucked away in his coat. I would have been armed to the teeth if I’d been called to a mysterious late-night meeting with the Spider. But one of the perks of being the supposed queen of the underworld was that I could summon anyone anytime, day or night.

  The man stepped onto the porch, and the boards creaked ominously under his weight. I didn’t know where he’d been or what he’d been doing before this, but the man was dressed as though this was just another business meeting. His stylish navy overcoat topped an equally snazzy navy suit, and his black wing tips were spotless, despite his walk across the icy gravel driveway. His dark brown hair, blue eyes, and tan skin gleamed under the golden glows cast out by the porch lights. He was tall and muscled and quite handsome, although his good looks weren’t the reason I had asked him here.

  Liam Carter glanced around. A wary expression filled his face, as though he was expecting someone to run around the far side of the porch and start shooting at him. This would have been an excellent place for an ambush, but I wasn’t planning to kill him.

  He had far too much potential value for that.

  My plan to protect not only myself but especially my loved ones from Mason, Tucker, and the Circle wouldn’t work without his help. Like it or not, my friends’ survival hinged on Liam agreeing to my scheme. He was my last resort, my last line of defense, in case everything went wrong. And knowing my luck, things would most definitely go wrong sooner or later. Oh, yes, I desperately needed Liam Carter—even if I wasn’t sure I could trust him.

  He waited several seconds. When it became clear that no one was going to try to murder him, and I was content to sit in my rocking chair and sip my gin, he cleared his throat. “Ms. Blanco.”

  “Mr. Carter. Thank you for coming so late. And on such short notice.”

  He respectfully tipped his head to me. “When the queen calls, I come running.”

  I grimaced. Like all the other underworld bosses, Liam Carter wrongly assumed that I was the one who ruled over the city’s crime. I was about to dissuade him of that notion, though, along with a great many others.

  He glanced around again. “Is your handsome assistant here?”

  Liam had been steadfastly flirting with Silvio at the Pork Pit for the last several weeks, trying to persuade the vampire to go on a coffee date. So far, Silvio had resisted Liam’s advances, although I thought my assistant was far more interested in the other man than he let on.

  “No, Silvio’s not here. This meeting is just between you and me, and everything we say tonight stays strictly between the two of us. No confiding in one of your associates, no notes on your phone or computer, no paper trail. Is that understood?”

  He tipped his head again, accepting my terms. Not that he had much choice in the matter. Liam Carter might be formidable, but I could palm a knife, cross the porch, and kill him before he drew whatever guns he might be carrying.

  I lifted my glass to my lips and tossed back the rest of my gin before setting the empty container aside. No sense beating around the bush. It was too cold, and I was too desperate for such nonsense.

  “I want to hire you.”

  Liam’s eyebrows shot up into his forehead in obvious surprise. “Hire me? To do what?”

  “What you do best—protect people.”

  Liam Carter was a bit of an odd fish among the criminals swimming in the Ashland underworld. Instead of running guns or drugs, he offered protection services and shielded criminals from other criminals who wanted them dead. Turf wars, internal power struggles, assassination attempts. You name it, and Liam Carter could probably get you through it—alive.

  And he didn’t limit his services to the city’s criminals. Liam and his company, Carter Corp., were legit enough to protect rich businesspeople, government officials who’d received death threats, and even police witnesses. He employed a variety of giants, dwarves, vampires, and elementals whom he could mix and match together depending on his client’s needs, who wanted them dead, and how badly.

  Then there was Liam himself. He was a crack shot who was rumored to have a mix of dwarven and giant blood that made him incredibly tough and strong, and he had taken several bullets and blasts of magic meant for his clients. Best of all, Liam offered his clients a guarantee: once you hired him, he was yours until the job was done. He wouldn’t sell you out to your enemies, and he would do everything in his power to keep you safe.

  His sterling reputation and code of honor were among the reasons I’d decided to approach him. I just hoped I was trusting the right person. But if things went the way I expected, then time was running out, and I had no choice but to take a leap of faith and hope that Liam Carter would do right by me and mine.

  “Let me get this straight. You want me to protect you?” He pointed back and forth between the two of us.

  “Yes. I want to hire you.” I made the same back-and-forth motions with my index finger.

  Liam gave me an incredulous look. “Is this a joke? You’re an assassin. And not just any assassin, but the Spider. One of the very best. You killed Mab Monroe. And Madeline Monroe. And lots of other underworld bosses. Why would you ever need anyone’s protection?”

  “I made a mistake tonight.”

  He eyed me. “What kind of mistake?”

  “I killed a couple of people I shouldn’t have.”

  He snorted. “Strange thing for an assassin to say, especially the Spider. You’re the queen of the Ashland underworld. That means you can pretty much kill whomever you like.”

  I let out a harsh, bitter laugh. “I’m not the queen of anything, except maybe lies. And someone wants me dead. Or at least out of the way. Someone far more dangerous and powerful than the underworld bosses. That’s where you come in.”

  Liam crossed his arms over his chest, clearly wanting answers. Even though I had summoned him here to dole out those answers, I still hesitated. Because once I uncorked this particular genie, there was no shoving it back into the bottle.

  I had been thinking about hiring Liam for a few weeks, ever since I’d discovered that Mason was the head of the Circle. But now that the moment was finally here, I was wondering how much I could trust Liam. Then again, I wondered that about
practically everyone.

  The mere idea of putting my faith in someone new and risking his betrayal made me feel as though my stomach was a tank filled with hungry sharks just waiting to break through the thin, fragile glass and tear me to pieces. Perhaps even worse than that watery tank of worry was this steady, phantom tick-tick-ticking in my ears, almost as if there was a clock inside my mind counting down the seconds until Mason came after me. But like it or not, it was time to take a chance and jump into the water.

  I drew in a breath, then slowly let it out. “Have you ever heard of the Circle?”

  His eyebrows drew together in confusion. “What’s that? Some weird assassin coven?”

  Liam was closer to the truth than he realized, but I shook my head.

  “No. The Circle is a secret society. Its members are the ones with the real power in Ashland, especially in the underworld. I’m just a reluctant figurehead of sorts.”

  He still looked skeptical, so I told him everything I knew about the Circle and all the horrible things that had happened over the past few months. Hugh Tucker trying to recruit me. Finding out that my mother had been a Circle member. Learning that my uncle Mason was the one pulling everyone’s strings, including mine.

  By the time I finished, Liam Carter was leaning back against the porch railing, his arms still crossed over his chest, a thoughtful look on his face. He stayed silent for the better part of a minute, digesting my words, then let out a low whistle.

  “If what you’re telling me is the truth…” He shook his head. “Then nothing is the way I thought it was in Ashland. Not when it comes to how things really work, the other crime bosses, you, nothing. Down is up, and up is fucking sideways.”

  “Unfortunately, it’s the sad, inescapable truth. As is the fact that I need your help.”

  “Why me?” he asked. “Why me out of all the people in Ashland you could reach out to? There are lots of folks who would be willing to do the Spider a favor.”

  I shrugged. “Because you’re the only one I can trust.”

  Or at least hope to trust. I didn’t say the words, but I still felt the weight of them, like a couple of those hungry sharks had bumped into the sides of the watery tank of worry, fear, and misgivings that was still sloshing around in my stomach.

  A smile creased Liam’s face, and an amused chuckle escaped his lips. “Trust? You think you can trust me? Oh, that’s funny. Because we both know I’m a mercenary at heart. Besides, I don’t work for free. Not even for the Spider.”

  I opened the file folder on the table and pulled out the check I’d written a few days ago. Then I got to my feet, crossed the porch, and held it out to him. “I never expected you to work for free.”

  Liam eyed the check like it was a lit stick of dynamite that would explode the second he touched it. He was right to be wary. Because if my plan didn’t work, then no amount of money would fix things, and I doubted either one of us would live much longer.

  Several seconds ticked by. I thought he wasn’t going to take it, and I started to drop my hand, but his curiosity must have gotten the better of him, because he plucked the check out of my fingertips.

  Liam leaned back against the porch railing. He made sure that it wasn’t some trick and that I was going to stay put before glancing down at the piece of paper. He blinked. “Well, that is certainly…generous. But the question remains. Why me?”

  “Because you’re not nearly as mercenary as you claim to be.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I thought you might say that.”

  I crossed the porch, sat back down in my rocking chair, and gestured at the sheets of paper inside the open folder. I’d memorized the contents days ago.

  “Liam Alexander Carter. Age forty-five. Born and raised in Ashland by a single mother. You grew up in Southtown but managed to claw your way out of a bad neighborhood. Worked several jobs, some legal, some not, to put yourself through college, then got your master’s degree in business. You saw an opportunity to offer protection and other bodyguard services to both criminals and legit businesspeople and started your own security firm more than twenty years ago. Now, Carter Corp. is the premier protection service in Ashland. Impressive. Truly.”

  A muscle ticked in his jaw, and he tapped his right foot in a quick, annoyed rhythm. He didn’t like my condensing his life down to the bare bones. “You did your homework.”

  I shook my head. “Not me. My assassin mentor. He kept files on everyone who was anyone in Ashland, especially those folks on the shady side of the law.”

  “Should I be flattered?” Liam drawled.

  “Absolutely. Fletcher, my mentor, wrote several complimentary things about you in his notes. He didn’t do that for many people.”

  Hardly anyone, although I wouldn’t tell Liam that, not while we were still feeling each other out.

  He glanced at the check in his hand again. I’d put enough zeroes on it to get and keep his attention. Good. I just hoped the information in Fletcher’s file would help seal the deal.

  “What, exactly, do you want me to do? Tell me the truth—the whole, unvarnished, absolute truth,” Liam said. “That is my one and only rule with my clients. I don’t care what you’ve done or how many people you’ve hurt and killed. But if you lie to me, I can’t properly protect you, and neither can the folks who work for me. I won’t have my people risk their lives over a stupid fucking lie. The second I find out you haven’t been completely, one hundred percent honest, I’m gone, and nothing you do or say or offer or threaten will convince me to come back.”

  I nodded. “That seems fair.”

  He gave me a suspicious look, but I told him exactly what I wanted.

  I laid it all out for him, full disclosure. All the horrible things I thought might happen and how I wanted him to handle them. Liam was right. He and his people were going to risk their lives, and it would be insulting to lie—even if I wasn’t sure I could trust him.

  At first, Liam looked wary, then shocked, then incredulous. By the time I finished laying out my plan, he was shaking his head no-no-no, as if he couldn’t believe what I was proposing.

  “You want me to take on this Circle secret society?” he asked, still shaking his head no-no-no. “That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.”

  “Why?” I countered. “Everyone knows you run the best protection service in Ashland. Why, you’ve almost thwarted me a time or two.”

  “Almost thwarted you?” Liam’s blue eyes narrowed in thought, as though he was flipping through a mental list of his clients—the ones he hadn’t been able to protect. “Wait a second. You were the one who killed Lennie Wilson?”

  I grinned and gave him a not-so-modest shrug.

  “I worked for weeks setting up a safe house for Wilson. And you came along and killed him, just like that.” He snapped his fingers and gave me a harsh, accusing glare.

  I shrugged again. “And you did an excellent job. It took me almost a week to find Lennie in that penthouse apartment and three more days to figure out how to climb to the top floor.”

  “You climbed up the side of the building?” Liam blanched. “It was ten floors!”

  “Don’t you know? Spiders like to climb.”

  Liam glared at me again, but his anger quickly melted into more of a speculative look. “How did you do it? I’ve always wondered. I could never quite figure it out.”

  I gestured at the rocking chair across from mine. “Sit down, and I’ll tell you all about it.”

  Liam thought about it for a few seconds, but he stepped forward and settled himself in the chair. He also laid the check on top of the file on the table between us. He still wasn’t ready to take my money or agree to my proposal. Smart. I liked him already.

  I poured him some gin, along with another for myself, and told him how I’d assassinated his client all those years ago.

  “Fletcher, my mentor, occasionally delivered food from the Pork Pit, and he decided to gift your men
with several boxes of barbecue they hadn’t ordered. The old man drew you and the rest of the guards to the front of the penthouse while I slipped in through one of the windows, killed Lennie Wilson, and slipped back out.”

  “I knew there was something fishy about that guy,” Liam muttered. “But he really did work for the Pork Pit, and I could never prove anything against him.”

  “Fletcher was sly and sneaky, and he excelled at getting other people to do exactly what he wanted them to,” I replied. “The old man called that move his Reverse Trojan Horse. Only instead of getting someone to bring something inside, like a bomb or poisoned food, he would get the person to come outside to him. And then he would do whatever he needed to, depending on the job. In your case, it was distracting you and your men long enough for me to kill Lennie Wilson.”

  Liam gave me another speculative look. “Is that where you got the idea to hire me?”

  “More or less.”

  “What you’re asking…” He shook his head. “It’s not what I normally do.”

  “I know. And that’s exactly why I want you to do it.”

  He leaned back in his chair and looked at me over the rim of his glass. “But you don’t know me. Despite whatever information is in that file, you don’t know me. Not really. Not well enough to put your trust in me for something this dangerous.”

  “So?”

  “So what makes you think I’m the person for the job? And don’t tell me it’s because your assassin mentor gave me a glowing review way back when. He probably thought I was a complete idiot after he hoodwinked me.”

  “Fletcher didn’t think you were an idiot. He was the smartest person I’ve ever known, and he could beat anyone at their own game. I can’t even tell you how many times he mock-killed me over the years, even after I was fully trained and working as the Spider.”

  Liam kept staring at me, suspicion filling his eyes.

  I drained the rest of my gin and waited until that sweet, slow burn ignited in the pit of my stomach before I set my glass aside. I didn’t often need liquid courage, but the night was cold and dark, and so was what I was about to say.