Bitter Bite (Elemental Assassin #14)(113)

loved you so much.”

“I know,” Finn said. “And I loved him too. I just wish I had been more like

him sometimes. That we had gotten along better. That I had told him how

important he was to me more than I did.”

He plucked a blade of frosted grass out of the ground and twirled it around.

“I also wish that I had listened to you about Deirdre.”

“You don’t have to apologize again.”

He looked at me, his green eyes full of regret. “Yes, I do. I just . . . I

wanted her to actually be here for me. I wanted it more than anything. You

know?”

“I know. It’s the same way that I feel about Fletcher. Sometimes I wish he

was still here so much that it hurts. It’s literally an ache in my chest that

I can never get rid of.”

“But at least you know he loved you.”

I waved the letter at him. “And he loved you too. He kept you safe from

Deirdre for all these years. The two of you might not have been that much

alike, but he loved you more than anything, Finn.”

He nodded, but he didn’t say anything else. A few flakes of snow started

falling down from the sky. Finally, he gestured at the box that was still down

in the grave.

“What was in it?”

I showed him the key and the letter.

“Yep, that’s from First Trust, all right.” He winked. “I know a guy who

can get you in there on the sly.”

I laughed. “I’ll just bet you do. But first, I need to clean up the mess I

made here.” I slid off the edge of the grave and back down into the hole.

“You want some help putting all this dirt back where it belongs?” he called

out. “Or can I just sit up here and supervise and keep my clothes pristine?”

I gestured at him with my shovel. “You can stay up there, or you can take a

dirt nap down here. Your choice.”

Finn laughed at my teasing threat and slid into the grave with me. Then he

grabbed his shovel and stuck it in the dirt right next to mine. “I’m going

to have to get a manicure after this,” he said. “All this dirt and physical

labor will wreak havoc on my nails.”

I snorted. “I think it’s sad that you get more manicures than Bria and me

combined.”

“Hey, now. Don’t diss the manscaping. Women like a well-groomed man.”

I rolled my eyes. “Well, when I see a well-groomed man, I’ll let you know.”

Finn bumped his shoulder into mine, and I bumped him right back. “You know

there’s no place I’d rather be tonight than here with you, right?” he said,

his voice lighter than it had been in days.

I arched an eyebrow. “Really? You want to be cold, dirty, and sweaty? Why is

that?”

“Oh, come on,” he said. “Skulking around a cemetery on a cold winter’s

night? Digging up graves and secrets? Hot on the trail of some secret society

that your mother may or may not have been involved in? Honestly, what could be

better than this?”

He grinned at me again and started filling in the grave. I watched him for a

few seconds, and then my gaze drifted down the hill to where Fletcher was

buried. Finn and the old man had had their issues, but Fletcher had loved

Finn, and that love had been returned. Maybe now more so than ever before.

Finn was right. There was no place I’d rather be either.

I smiled and started working side by side with my brother.





Turn the page for a sneak peek at the

next book in the Elemental Assassin series



by Jennifer Estep

Coming soon from Pocket Books





1

It was the perfect night to kill someone.

Thick, heavy clouds obscured the moon and stars, deepening the shadows of the

cold December evening. It wasn’t snowing, but an icy drizzle spattered down

from the sky, slowly covering everything in a slick, glossy, treacherous

sheen. Icicles had already formed on many of the trees that lined the street,

looking like gnarled, glittering fingers that were crawling all over the bare,

skeletal branches. No animals moved or stirred, not so much as an owl sailing

into one of the treetops searching for shelter.

Down the block, red, green, and white holiday lights flashed on the doors and

windows of one of the sprawling mansions set back from the street, and the

faint trill of Christmas carols filled the air. A steady stream of people

hurried from the holly-festooned front door, down the snowmen-lined driveway,

and out to their cars, scrambling into the vehicles and cranking the engines

as fast as they could. Someone’s dinner party was rapidly winding down,

despite the fact that it was only nine o’clock. Everyone wanted to get home

and be safe, warm, and snug in their own beds before the weather got any

worse. In ten minutes, they’d all be gone, and the street would be quiet and

deserted again.

Yes, it was the perfect night to kill someone.