Bitter Bite (Elemental Assassin #14)(15)

my face. The heat of his hands on my waist soaked through the fabric of my

dress, making me want to kiss him again and again, until the rest of the world

—and all my problems—melted away.

But I couldn’t do that. Not tonight. Not with Finn waiting for me to ruin his

world, even if he didn’t know it yet.

“Not that I’m complaining,” Owen murmured. “But what was that for?”

“Luck.”

“Luck? What would you need luck for?”

I should have made some airy, flippant excuse, but the lie got stuck in my

throat, and I ended up shrugging instead.

He drew back, his gaze searching my face. “What’s up, Gin? What’s wrong?”

I grimaced. I was really going to have to get a better poker face. Or maybe I

could get Jo-Jo Deveraux, my Air elemental friend, to give me some tips on how

to fake a smile. Either way, I definitely needed to quit wearing my emotions

on my face for everyone to see.

“Gin?” Owen asked again. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“Not yet.”

“Yet?”

I sighed. “I have to give Finn some bad news at dinner. Or maybe after

dinner. It depends on how long it takes me to work up my nerve. But there’s

no use ruining the evening before I absolutely have to. We should go. We don’

t want to be late. Okay?”

Owen studied my face again, questions filling his features as he mulled over

my cryptic words. But he trusted me enough not to press me for answers, and he

nodded. “Okay.” He stared at me a second longer, then grinned, crooked his

arm, and held it out to me. “Well, then, my lady, your chariot awaits.”

I laughed, grabbed my black clutch, and slipped my arm through his.

*

Thirty minutes later, Owen pulled his car over to the curb in front of a

seven-story building that took up its own downtown block. First Trust of

Ashland was carved into the gleaming gray marble over the entrance, and a

genuine red carpet stretched across the steps and all the way down to the

curb. First Trust was the city’s most exclusive bank, known for its stellar

security, along with its utmost discretion and extreme dedication to seeing to

all the needs of its insanely wealthy clientele, no matter how illegal those

needs might be.

A giant dressed in a gray guard’s uniform with the words First Trust stitched

on the breast pocket hustled over and opened my door, while a second giant

acting as a valet took Owen’s keys. Still two more giant guards, also in gray

uniforms, manned the double doors. Both wore bulletproof vests under their

jackets, making them seem even larger and bulkier than they really were.

One guard was taking invitations from people and checking names off on a

clipboard. The other guard rested his hand on the gun strapped to his waist,

staring at a blond woman a few feet away, suspicious about why she was

loitering outside on this cold November evening.

The woman turned toward the street, and I realized that it was Bria. My sister

looked lovely in a royal-blue dress with three-quarter sleeves, a scoop

neckline, and a short flared skirt. Her hair was pulled back into a loose,

pretty braid, and her primrose rune pendant glinted in the hollow of her

throat.

Bria caught sight of me, smiled, and waved. I took Owen’s arm again, and we

walked up the steps. I handed the guard my invitation, and he checked off our

names. Once that was done, we strolled over to Bria. I hugged my sister, and

Owen and I told her how beautiful she looked.

“What are you doing out here?” I asked. “Why didn’t you go on inside where

it’s warm?”

Bria shook her head. “I wanted to wait for you guys. Because of, well, you

know.”

She gave Owen a tight smile, not sure if I had told him anything yet. He

looked back and forth between the two of us, but he didn’t comment on how

strange we were acting. Instead, he offered Bria his other arm, and together,

the three of us walked inside.

First Trust’s decor definitely matched its highfalutin reputation. Tonight’s

schmooze fest was meant to show off the bank’s recent remodeling and

upgrades. Wispy patches of white swirled through the gray marble floor, making

it seem as though we were standing on a bed of clouds. The same motif

continued up through the walls and spread out onto the ceiling, which soared a

hundred feet overhead. Chandeliers shaped like starbursts dropped down from

the ceiling, the sparkling clusters of crystals stretching ten feet wide in

places.

The lobby was a wide, open space, with antique desks and chairs set up

throughout the room, each set of furniture several feet away from the others,

so people could talk about their finances in private. A long marble counter

took up the back wall. During normal business hours, tellers would have been

working at each station along the counter, but tonight bartenders in white

shirts and black tuxedo vests held court there, mixing drinks and pouring