Bitter Bite (Elemental Assassin #14)(14)

sandwich, sweet-potato fries, and a triple chocolate milkshake. I laughed and

joked and smiled as I fixed his food and slid it across the counter to him.

But every time I glanced at Finn, every time I heard his suave voice, every

time the rich timbre of his laughter washed over me, a single image filled my

mind: that photo of Fletcher holding Finn while Deirdre stared down at her

newborn son with a flat, distant expression.

Finn chattered on about tonight’s party, some new client he wanted me to

meet, and how everyone was going to be so jealous of how gorgeous Bria was. I

chimed in when appropriate, but every forced grin and fake chuckle made my

heart sink and my stomach knot up. Tonight was supposed to be fun for Finn,

and I was going to ruin it by telling him about Deirdre.

Finn’s lunch seemed to drag on forever, even though he strolled out through

the front door less than forty-five minutes later with a grin, a wink, and a

playful warning for me to bring my credit card to Underwood’s. I snarked back

that I might have to take out a bank loan just to pay for his dinner. Finn

laughed a final time, then left the Pork Pit.

The second he was gone, the smile dropped from my face faster than a body

hitting the floor. My jaw ached from grinding my teeth and holding on to the

fake expression for so long. I reached up and massaged my temples, trying to

ease the pounding there.

Silvio slid over, taking the stool that Finn had just vacated. “Something’s

wrong. Care to tell me what it is? And what it has to do with Finn?”

I eyed him, but Silvio’s face was neutral. He hadn’t seemed to be paying all

that much attention to Finn and me, but I should have known better. His keen

observational skills were one of the things that made him such a great

assistant. First Bria, now Silvio. I was really going to have to work on my

fake smiles.

“I have to give Finn some bad news, and I’m not sure how he’s going to take

it.”

Silvio kept his gray eyes steady on mine, but I didn’t volunteer any more

information. “Would this have something to do with Deirdre Shaw?” he asked.

“Because I find it extremely odd that you want me to drop everything and

focus on this one Ice elemental.”

I gave him a short nod, confirming at least that much. “I’ll tell you all

about it tomorrow. After I talk to Finn.”

Curiosity flared in Silvio’s eyes, but he knew better than to push me. He

nodded back at me, slid over onto his previous stool, picked up his tablet,

and went back to work.

I stared at that photo of Fletcher hanging on the wall. Dark hair, green eyes,

great smile. My heart twisted with loss and longing. The young Fletcher in

that photo was the spitting image of Finn today. The only real difference was

in their temperaments. Finn had always been much more cheerful, boisterous,

and outgoing than the old man, who had been serious, quiet, and reserved,

sometimes to the extreme.

I wondered how Finn was going to react to the news that his mother was still

alive. No doubt, shocked and confused for starters. I wondered if he would be

curious about her. Hurt that she had never reached out to him. Angry that I

hadn’t told him the second I found Fletcher’s file on her.

My heart twisted a little more, this time with dread.

I’d find out tonight.





4

At seven o’clock that evening, a knock sounded on the front door of Fletcher

’s house. I opened it to find a man wearing a dark navy suit. He was a little

more than six feet tall, with a solid, muscular frame that was the result of

many long hours of working in his blacksmith’s forge. His blue-black hair

gleamed under the porch light, which also showed off the rough, rugged planes

of his face and his vivid violet eyes. His nose was slightly crooked, and a

jagged scar slashed across his chin, but the imperfections only added more

character to his features.

“Hey there, handsome,” I drawled. “Here to show a girl a good time?”

Owen Grayson, my significant other, grinned. “Always.”

He stepped inside, looked me over, and let out a low whistle. “Nice dress.”

A little black cocktail dress with long sleeves and a short skirt hugged my

body in all the right places. My dark chocolate-brown hair was pulled up into

a sleek ponytail, and smoky black shadow made my gray eyes seem larger and

lighter than they were. I wore my spider rune pendant over the dress, the

silverstone shimmering against the black fabric.

“As Finn would say, I clean up good.” I laughed, but the sound was weak and

hollow.

He frowned? hearing the tension in my voice, but before he could ask me about

it, I wound my arms around his neck, drew his head down, and planted a long,

lingering kiss on his lips. Owen responded in kind, and we didn’t break apart

until a minute later, both of us breathing hard.

He leaned down so that his forehead rested on mine, his warm breath caressing