Snared (Elemental Assassin #16)(4)

But all of that was nothing compared with the woman he’d killed.

One night during his college years, Rivera had gotten into his SUV and decided to see how fast he could drunkenly navigate Ashland’s mountain roads. He’d come around one curve, crossed the center line, and plowed head-on into a sedan being driven by a single mother of two. She died instantly, but Rivera walked away from the crash with only minor injuries. He never was charged in the woman’s death, thanks to his own mother, who pulled all the right strings and paid off all the right people to cover the whole thing up.

But Damian hadn’t learned his lesson. He hadn’t learned anything, since he’d been arrested for several more DUIs over the years, including his most recent offense on New Year’s Eve just a few days ago. Not that he would face any consequences for that one either. His mama was long dead, but Damian still had someone to clean up his messes: Bruce Porter, a dwarf who’d been the Rivera family’s head of security for years.

I stopped in front of a picture of Maria Rivera, a beautiful woman with long golden hair, brown eyes, and red lips. In the photo, she was smiling and standing between Damian and his father, Richard Rivera, with a dour--looking Bruce Porter hovering behind them in the distance. I raised my phone and snapped a shot of them—

“You’ve been in there a while now.” Finn’s voice sounded in my ear. “Does that mean you’ve finally found something good?”

“No,” I muttered. “Just a lot of liquor, antiques, and photos.”

“What kind of liquor?” Finn chirped with obvious interest. “Anything I would drink?”

I slid my phone into my jacket pocket and took a closer look at the rows of gleaming bottles behind the bar. “Oh, I think that you would drink them all, especially since Rivera’s tastes are even more expensive than yours. Why, you would cackle with glee if you could see all the spirits he has in here.”

“Well, why don’t you bring me a bottle or two so I can cackle in person?” Finn chirped again. “I might as well get something for standing out here in the cold.”

Even though he was in the woods outside and couldn’t see me, I still rolled my eyes. “I came here for information on the Circle. Not to pilfer Daddy’s booze like some naughty teenager.”

“You say potato, I say opportunity.”

I had started to respond when a faint creak sounded in the hallway outside, as though someone had stepped on a floorboard. I froze. The creak came again, louder and closer this time, and it was followed by something far, far worse: the distinctive snick of a key sliding in a lock.

“Let’s have a drink,” a faint, muffled voice said on the other side of the door.





2


I bolted for the window, intending to yank it up and dive through the opening. Otherwise, I’d be caught, and all of my careful surveillance of Damian Rivera and the other Circle members would have been for nothing.

But I’d forgotten about the white velvet bow hanging from the window frame, and I ran straight into it. Even worse, the fabric decided to stick to me, like an octopus clutching at my clothes.

“Shit,” I hissed, trying to peel off the clinging velvet and open the window at the same time. “Shit, shit, shit!”

“Gin?” Finn’s voice rang in my ear, sharp with worry. “What’s wrong?”

I finally slapped the bow away and grabbed hold of the frame. “I thought you said that Rivera was attending some charity dinner tonight?”

“He is. According to my sources, he RSVP’d several weeks ago. It didn’t even start until eight o’clock, so the dinner shouldn’t be anywhere close to being finished.”

“Well, tell that to Rivera,” I muttered. “Because he’s right outside the office.”

“Get out of there, Gin.” Finn’s voice crackled with even more worry. “Get out of there right now.”

I hoisted up the window, wincing at the faint screech it made. “Way ahead of you.”

As soon as the glass was out of the way, I ducked through the opening and stepped out onto the roof.

At least, I tried to.

My foot caught on that stupid bow again, and my leg stuck straight out in midair, as though I were doing a complicated yoga pose. I ground my teeth and yanked my foot free of the clutching fabric. The sudden, violent jerking motion pitched me forward, but I managed to stagger away from the window and catch myself before I did a header onto the roof or, worse, fell off it completely.

The second I regained my balance, I whipped around and hurried back over to the window, reaching for the frame to push it down.

Across the office, the antique crystal knob turned, and the door rattled, as though someone was putting his shoulder into the wood to force it open.

“Damn door always sticks,” a deep male voice said.

The crystal knob turned again, and the door finally swung open. I grabbed the frame and shoved the window down as fast as I could. But I didn’t have the best grip on it, and I didn’t manage to close it all the way. I grunted, trying to force the window down that final inch, even as a man stepped into the office.

If I could see him, then he could see me, so I abandoned the window and lurched to the side to get out of sight. My heart hammered in my chest, beating up into my throat, and I snapped my hand down to my side, palming a knife and waiting for the inevitable shouts of surprise and discovery.