The Spider(Elemental Assassin series)

15





Sebastian escorted me out of the library and shut the doors behind him.

“I’m sorry about that,” he said. “Charlotte’s been having a . . . hard time dealing with our father’s death. More often than not, I find her hiding under his desk, almost like she thinks he’s going to come back at any second. I don’t think she really understands that he’s gone yet.”

I frowned. Charlotte was thirteen, hardly a little girl anymore. I’d known all about death, grief, and people not coming back at that age. But Sebastian was talking about her as though she couldn’t understand anything that was going on around her.

He didn’t say anything else, and I didn’t volunteer a response. Instead, he whirled around and hurried away from the closed doors, as though he wanted to get away from the library and all the memories that it raised. I followed him, giving him the space he needed.

Eventually, Sebastian led me through another door, down a set of stairs, and out onto the south lawn. His pace slowed back down to a more normal level, as though he’d left his father’s ghost behind inside the mansion.

The estate grounds were just as immaculate as the mansion. Acres of grass rolled out like a thick, lush carpet before giving way to patches of brown woods in the distance. Clusters of trees dotted the lawn, their limbs arching out like canopies and providing shade for the bright summer flowers blooming in the rich beds of black earth below.

Tennis courts, an Olympic-size swimming pool, an outdoor hot tub with its own stone deck. We passed all that and more. And just like inside the house, everything was perfect, from the freshly painted lines on the courts to the crystal-blue surface of the water in the pool to the crisp white towels arranged in deck chairs by the hot tub.

We kept walking, finally reaching a round, domed marble building perched on a small rise above a large pond. I recognized the structure—it had been one of the models that Vaughn had in his office.

Sebastian pointed at the building. “My father’s mausoleum,” he said. “He built it himself, just like he did the mansion. We put him in there the day of the funeral, right next to my mother. She died in a car accident several years ago.”

I’d put Vaughn in there—nobody else. But I couldn’t tell Sebastian that, so I simply nodded instead, despite the guilt that flared up in me.

Sebastian stared at the structure, his face tight, his shoulders tense, his eyes dark and unreadable. He shook his head, then pulled me forward again. “Come on.”

He led me past the mausoleum and over to a stone path that wrapped all the way around to the far side of the pond. Trees had been planted along either side of the walkway, creating a beautiful arch of leaves and limbs above our heads. We stepped past the last of the trees, and I gasped at the sight before me.

“And this,” Sebastian said, throwing his hand out wide, “is the greenhouse.”

The structure had the same solid gray granite foundation as the mansion, but the sides were made entirely of glass, each panel gleaming in the soft rays of the setting sun. The panes shimmered so brightly that it took me a moment to realize that they were arranged in specific patterns that looked like flowers, vines, and petals, like a garden made out of glass. The sides of the structure rose some fifty feet into the air before veering up to a sharp point, making the whole structure resemble an enormous diamond sticking up out of the ground, just waiting for someone to come along and pluck it out of the earth.

“It’s beautiful,” I whispered.

Sebastian grinned. “Just wait until you see the inside.”

He opened the door, and I stepped through to the other side. The August evening had been muggy enough, but the inside of the greenhouse was almost stifling, and condensation slid down the glass panels in slick, steady drops. Orchids, lilies, and other, more exotic tropical flowers that I didn’t recognize bloomed from one side of the greenhouse to the other, their petals as bright and shiny as jewels. I even spotted a few palmetto trees, clustered together here and there, their thick trunks stretching up toward the ceiling.

No matter their shape or size, all of the flowers were set in long, wide white marble planters that perched on waist-high tables. The tables themselves had been arranged into several neat rows running from the front to the back of the building. The clusters of trees stood at the ends of the tables, marking various walkways through the greenhouse.

I listened, but the stone planters only whispered of their pride in housing the gorgeous flowers, along with a few grumbles about all the moisture that constantly dripped off the ceiling and windows and spattered onto them.

Sebastian pointed out several rows of flowers starting in the middle of the greenhouse and going all the way over to one of the walls—roses. The ones closest to the door were a pale, delicate sky blue with forest-green stems, but the farther down the rows you went, the darker the petals and the lighter the stems became. Several rows of flowers close to one of the walls had the same deep, dark, vibrant blue shade and milky stems as the ones that Sebastian had brought me earlier.

“More of my father’s work,” he said, seeing my curious gaze. “He wanted to see how dark and light he could get the petals and stems on the same plant. It was a hobby of his, along with building models.”

Well, I supposed this answered my question about why Vaughn had chosen two thorns for the letter V in his business rune. I made a mental note to tell Fletcher about the greenhouse. Despite all of his digging, he hadn’t known that Vaughn was into flowers. I didn’t know that it really mattered at this point, but Fletcher always said that the smallest piece of information could be the key to figuring out a job. Maybe knowing about the greenhouse would give him some more insight into Vaughn.

“My father always seemed to be happiest here,” Sebastian said, walking over and fingering a petal on one of the sky-blue roses. “Charlotte used to come out here and spend hours with him too.”

As soon as Sebastian touched the flower, a murmur rippled through the stone planter that housed it, the same dark murmur that I’d sensed in the mansion earlier. Curious, I reached out with my magic, trying to figure out exactly what the marble was muttering about. But I couldn’t understand what the stones were trying to tell me, like a song that you couldn’t quite decipher the lyrics to.

“Come on,” Sebastian said, dropping his hand from the rose. “There’s one more thing I want to show you.”

He held out his hand, which I took. Once again, the dark mutters in the marble intensified, but this time, I ignored them. I’d killed Vaughn. There was no danger here now. Perhaps the stones simply realized what I’d done to their master and didn’t like my presence. Either way, I was focused on Sebastian now, not them.

He led me out the far side of the greenhouse and down to another, smaller pond that lay at the bottom of a hill. I gasped in surprise again. A romantic table for two was set up at the water’s edge. Lit candles the same deep, dark blue as my roses flickered in the summer breeze, while covered silver platters on the table reflected the wavering lights. Fine china sat on top of the white tablecloth, and I could see the letter V with its thorn rune pattern shimmering in gold thread in the fabric.

It was one of the most elegant, elaborate dinners that I’d ever been invited to, and it was definitely the nicest thing that any guy had ever done for me. Finn’s idea of a romantic evening had been making out in one of the freezers in the back of the Pork Pit. But this . . . this was amazing, like something out of one of the rom-coms I secretly loved to watch with Sophia.

But despite my pleasure, my stomach clenched at all the trouble Sebastian had gone to for me. Or at least had his staff go to for me. Because I definitely didn’t deserve it. Not the flowers, not the tour, not the romantic dinner—not one little shred of it.

Maybe Finn and Fletcher were right. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Because no matter how much I wanted to pretend otherwise, the simple fact was that I had killed Sebastian’s father. And if he ever found out, he would hate me for it. How could he not? And I didn’t know if I could bear that. Not now. Not after he’d been so wonderful to me.

“Much better than dinner and a movie, don’t you think?” Sebastian said.

Somehow I swallowed down my guilt. “Much better,” I agreed. “But it’s too much. You shouldn’t have gone to all of this bother.”

He shook his head. “No, it’s not too much. You were there for me when I needed someone the other night. I wanted to thank you for that, and this was the best way I knew how.”

His eyes met mine, and I found myself drowning, drowning, drowning in his dark, sincere gaze. How did he always know exactly what to do and say to make me melt? We hadn’t known each other all that long, but it seemed like Sebastian already knew me better than anyone, even Fletcher.

Once again, my heart squeezed at how I’d hurt him, at this secret that would always stand between us, at the specter of his father that would never leave my mind.

But Sebastian didn’t seem to notice my distress. Instead, he stepped even closer and cupped my face with his hand, his skin warm and smooth against my own.

“Gin,” he whispered.

He lowered his lips to mine, my eyes fluttered closed, and I forgot about everything else except the way that he made me feel.

At least for tonight.
16





The next two weeks were some of the happiest of my life.

Sebastian and I had such a good time at dinner, laughing, talking, and getting to know each other, that he asked me to go out with him again the next night. Since I hadn’t had time to look for the file in his father’s office, I said yes.

Well, I really said yes because I wanted to see him again, but Fletcher didn’t need to know that. No one did but me.

That next night and next date turned into another night and another date, then another . . .

Sebastian and I spent as much time together as we could. Sometimes he managed to sneak away from the office long enough to come have lunch at the Pork Pit, and every evening when my shift was over, he swung by the restaurant and picked me up. Sometimes we drove around Ashland for hours, just talking. Other times, we went to the movies or some of the city’s many museums, like Briartop, where we rented a paddleboat and fed the ducks as we floated around the island. We even trekked up to Cypress Mountain one afternoon to explore the shops and sights there. I took Sebastian to my favorite hole-in-the-wall restaurants, like the Cake Walk, while he introduced me to some of Ashland’s finer dining establishments, including Underwood’s. Some nights, he drove me out to his family’s estate, and we explored the grounds hand in hand, before finding a dark, private corner and melting into each other’s arms.

Despite all my visits to the estate, I never did get any closer to finding Vaughn’s mysterious file. Oh, Sebastian took me to his father’s office in the library several times, but he never left me alone long enough for me to search for the file. And after a while, I didn’t care about finding it anymore. Vaughn was dead. He couldn’t hurt Charlotte anymore. Nothing else mattered.

Except for Sebastian.

With every word, every date, every soft kiss and sweet caress, I fell harder and harder for him. He was just so good to me, so kind, thoughtful, and considerate, and so focused on doing whatever he thought would make me happy, whether it was bringing me more roses, buying me a jumbo cookie at a sweets shop, or telling a bad joke to make me laugh after a rotten day at the restaurant. I’d spent so much time creeping around in the shadows that I loved having someone’s unwavering focus and undivided attention, like being with me was the highlight of his day. The thing that he looked forward to whenever we were apart.

The only thing that mattered.

Of course, Finn didn’t approve of my new relationship, but I ignored his snide quips and comments. He was simply being an annoying, egotistical pest, like always. Fletcher wasn’t happy about my involvement with Sebastian either, but he didn’t give me any more dire warnings to stay away from him. Still, I could see the disapproval in the old man’s eyes. That was something else that I ignored, although it was harder than it was with Finn.

But it was worth it, because for the first time in a long time, I was actually . . . happy.

Oh, I’d never been unhappy, not with Fletcher and especially not learning how to be the Spider. Training with the old man had always made me feel smart and strong and powerful, made me forget the scared little girl I’d been, living on the streets, and especially made me feel like I was in control of my own life, my own fate, my own destiny. Like I could do anything, overcome anything, survive anything.

But being with Sebastian made me feel alive in a way that I thought had died the night my family was murdered. I felt like a different person when I was with him, like I really was a simple waitress who was going out with a great guy. When I was with Sebastian, I could forget about all of the bad stuff that had happened to me, and I could just be in the moment with him. Talking, laughing, kissing, canoodling. Things were going so well between us that I even allowed myself to have silly, stupid, romantic daydreams about the future, about our future together.

The only thing that ruined my happiness was the fact—the cold, hard, inescapable fact—that I’d killed Cesar Vaughn.

The job hadn’t been any different from any other that I’d done. Really, it had been far easier than most. I’d never lost sleep over being an assassin before, but try as I might, I just couldn’t shake Vaughn. More than once, I dreamed about stabbing him in his office and his final gasps for breath with Charlotte’s name on his lips. I still didn’t know what to make of that. But the really bizarre thing was that they weren’t even dreams so much as memories of that night that I kept reliving over and over again every time I closed my eyes. Something that I hadn’t done since my family had been murdered.

Then, of course, there was Sebastian, who was still looking for his father’s killer, despite the fact that the cops had nothing to go on, no witnesses, no evidence, and absolutely no suspects. The Vaughn murder was rapidly becoming a cold case, and everyone knew it, including Sebastian.

Still, after the initial shock wore off, Sebastian didn’t seem all that upset by his father’s death. Several times, he let it slip that Vaughn wasn’t the stand-up guy he’d pretended to be. He never said anything about his father abusing Charlotte, but I was beginning to think that he’d suspected that something was going on. But as soon as he said something to that effect, Sebastian would look away from me, guilt flaring in his eyes, not wanting to speak ill of his beloved papa.

Still, despite the memories, my lingering guilt, and my growing feelings for him, I had no delusions about telling Sebastian what I’d done to his father. That was a stupid way to get a ticket to death row, no matter what kind of relationship we had or how much I thought he cared about me. But more than once, I had to bite my lip to keep from telling Sebastian that he was exactly right about his father and that he and Charlotte were better off without Vaughn in their lives.

“What are you thinking about?” A whispered voice broke into my thoughts.

I focused on Sebastian. The two of us were lying on a thick blanket in the shade of the greenhouse, having enjoyed a picnic of fried chicken, macaroni salad, fresh summer vegetables, and all the other fixings that I’d made at the Pork Pit. “I was thinking how nice it is to be here with you. Just the two of us.”

Sebastian smiled. “Just the two of us. I like the sound of that.” He hesitated. “Actually, I need to ask you something.”

I froze, thinking that he’d somehow figured out my involvement in his father’s death. The same paranoid conclusion that I jumped to every single time he asked me a question. And once again, I wasn’t sure what I would say if he ever found out the truth.

“I’m going ahead with the event that my father was planning for this weekend,” Sebastian said. “The party marking his and Charlotte’s birthdays. Only now it will be a celebration of his life too. I was wondering if you’d be my date.”

Despite the fact that part of me wanted to say yes, I hesitated. I’d already known that Sebastian was going through with the party, thanks to Fletcher’s sources. The problem was that it was going to be a huge event, with people coming in from all over Ashland and beyond. Even Finn had managed to wrangle an invitation, thanks to his internship at the bank. Everyone who was anyone in the city would be at the party, if only out of curiosity about Vaughn’s murder, and Sebastian would be the center of attention.

And so would I, if I agreed to this.

“Please,” he said, sensing my hesitation. “It’ll be fun. I promise. Plus, I figured that it was time for us to be seen out in public together. I’ve kept you all to myself for too long. Don’t you agree?”

His voice took on a light, teasing note, and I finally smiled, giving in to his request. “But I don’t have anything to wear.” I paused. “Unless you think that showing up in my waiter outfit is okay.”

He chuckled, then waved his hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything. All you have to do is get dressed and show up. Please, Gin? This is really important to me. A final way to honor my father.”

It was the soft “please” that did me in, despite the guilt that tightened my stomach again. What was it about Sebastian that made it so hard for me to deny him anything? “Okay,” I said. “Just tell me when and where, and I’ll be there.”

“It’s a date,” he whispered.

Sebastian drew me into the warm circle of his arms, and I forgot about the rest of the world and all the worries that went with it.

For tonight, anyway.

? ? ?

I smoothed down the fabric of the dress I was wearing. “I’m not sure about this. It’s a little . . . fancier than I thought it would be.”

I stood in front of a full-length mirror in my bedroom, staring at the gown that Sebastian had sent over to the Pork Pit for me to wear. It was the night of his party, and I’d spent the last hour getting dressed. Now I was all ready to go, even if I was freaking out about my dress.

It was a beautiful gown, a Fiona Fine original according to the hand-stitched tag, so I knew that Sebastian had paid a pretty price for it. The dress had wide straps covered with large, milky moonstones that gleamed underneath the lights. The straps led down to a tight, corseted bodice, also covered with jewels, before the gems gave way to soft, muted silver fabric, and the rest of the dress cascaded into a rippling skirt that flowed like a river of silk around my legs. Three-inch stilettos in the same silver covered my feet. He’d even sent over a small silver purse, although the only things I’d put into it were some lip balm, a pack of tissues, and one of my knives.

I saw this and thought of your beautiful eyes. That’s what a note in the box with the dress said. I didn’t know about that, but it was definitely the finest garment I’d ever worn.

“Well, I think it looks wonderful, darling,” a firm voice cut in.

A pair of clear, almost colorless eyes met mine in the mirror, and the dwarf smiled at me, her white-blond curls looking even more exquisite than my own.

Jolene “Jo-Jo” Deveraux had come over an hour ago to do my hair and makeup, and her efforts more than matched the gorgeous gown. Jo-Jo had expertly piled my dark brown hair high on top of my head into a simple bun, leaving only a few, softly curled wisps free to brush along my face. She’d rimmed my eyes with silver liner and a smoky black shadow and painted my lips a dark blue, almost the same shade as the dozen roses that Sebastian had sent along with the dress. All put together, I looked like some glittering Goth princess, and I felt that way too.

I sashayed from side to side, watching the dress swish around my body and taking in my reflection in the mirror. No waiter uniform tonight. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that, though. Fletcher had taught me how to blend in with the shadows, but this dress would definitely make me stand out in the crowd.

“Jo-Jo’s right,” a rough voice said behind me. “You look real pretty.”

I turned to see Fletcher leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, still wearing his blue work clothes from the Pork Pit. He hadn’t said much when I’d told him that Sebastian wanted me to attend the party as his date, but the old man had given me a sad, almost disappointed look that I hadn’t quite been able to decipher. Tonight, though, his face was carefully neutral. It made me love him even more to see how hard he was trying to let me go have a good time without mentioning his misgivings about Sebastian yet again.

“Thank you,” I told Fletcher. “That means a lot, coming from you, especially tonight.”

He harrumphed, but his lips twitched up into a small smile.

“Just . . . be careful, darling,” Jo-Jo said.

Her eyes took on a cloudy look, like she was staring at something in the distance. Most Air elementals had a bit of precognition, and Jo-Jo was no exception, since the wind whispered to her of all the things that might come to pass.

I waited, wondering if Jo-Jo would say anything else, but her eyes quickly cleared. She smiled at me again before gathering up her makeup supplies, stuffing everything into a bag, and going downstairs, leaving me alone with Fletcher.

I turned away from the mirror to face him. “I know that you think this is a bad idea,” I began. “Me seeing Sebastian, spending so much time with him, going to the party tonight, all of it. But I know what I’m doing. If nothing else, this will finally give me a chance to search the library to see if I can find Vaughn’s file.”

Fletcher nodded. “I appreciate that. But be careful tonight, okay, Gin? I might not have magic like Jo-Jo does, but something about this whole situation still doesn’t sit right with me, and the deeper I dig, the less I find. One of my sources is supposed to contact me later on tonight. I’m hoping his information pans out and that we’ll finally at least know who hired us to kill Vaughn.”

“You’re still worried, even though the cops have no leads and the back half of the money for the job cleared?”

The money had shown up in one of Fletcher’s anonymous accounts three days after I’d killed Vaughn, right on schedule. Whoever the client was, it seemed like he’d been happy with services rendered, and Fletcher hadn’t heard a peep out of him since. No follow-up e-mails, no more ads in the newspaper asking about pork prices, nothing.

He nodded again. “Even though.”

I walked over and kissed his wrinkled cheek, careful not to smear the lipstick that Jo-Jo had applied to my lips.

“Don’t you worry,” I said. “I’m not going to turn into a pumpkin at midnight like Cinderella, and I’ll be back home before you know it.”

“I hope so.” Despite the smile on his face, that strange, troubled light flared in his eyes again. “I really hope so.”