Bitter Bite (Elemental Assassin #14)(28)

possibility that it was Deirdre, trying to get close to him.”

Owen took my hands in his and stroked his thumbs over my skin. “You’re not

an idiot,” he said. “Finn always talks about his clients, ad nauseam

sometimes. There was no reason to suspect that this client was different from

any other. Although . . .”

“Yeah?”

“How long have you known about Finn’s mother?”

I had started to answer when I realized that people were sidling closer and

closer to Owen and me—all the criminals still left in the lobby. Gun runners,

loan sharks, bookies, and more. All standing in a loose knot, all with their

arms crossed over their chests, all waiting for me, the big boss, to tell them

how I was going to fix this, how I was going to find and take down the people

who had dared to try to rob them.

I sighed. “I’ll tell you all about it on the drive over to Jo-Jo’s. But

first, let me deal with this.”

Owen squeezed my hands, then stepped back.

I squared my shoulders, lifted my chin, and waded into the middle of the

mobsters. Everyone clustered around me, talking at once, their voices growing

louder and louder as they demanded that I find the robbers right f*cking now

and have them strung up from the nearest streetlight. For once, I was in total

agreement with them. I wanted the robbers found, all right, especially Santos,

so I could make him pay for trying to hurt Finn.

But I put my game face on, made all the appropriate I’m-going-to-find-and-

kill-these-bastards noises, and promised all the bosses that this sort of

behavior would absolutely not be tolerated on my watch.

The only ones I didn’t have to placate were Lorelei and Mallory, who stood on

the fringes of the crowd. Lorelei was busy texting on her phone, while Mallory

watched me soothe the bruised egos of the other criminals, an amused

expression on her wrinkled face.

By the time I got done playing my part as the head honcho and the other bosses

had finally drifted away, more cops had streamed into the lobby, including a

seven-foot-tall giant sporting a black leather jacket. Despite the cold night,

he wasn’t wearing a hat on his shaved head, and his ebony skin gleamed under

the lights. Xavier, Bria’s partner on the force.

Xavier spotted Owen and me and walked over to us. The giant looked around the

lobby, his dark eyes taking in all the overturned furniture, smashed glasses,

and trampled food.

“This reminds me of that robbery at the Briartop art museum during the

summer,” he rumbled. “Minus a few bodies.”

I grimaced at the mention of the other heist. I’d thwarted that one too but

not before several innocent people had been killed. At least tonight only the

robbers had died.

“Roslyn won’t be sorry she missed this,” he added.

Roslyn Phillips was Xavier’s significant other and a vampire friend of mine

who ran Northern Aggression, a decadent nightclub.

“She’s on vacation with Lisa and Catherine, right?” I asked, referring to

Roslyn’s sister and niece.

Xavier nodded. “Yep. Took them to the beach at Blue Marsh for two weeks.

Roslyn called me this afternoon to tell me how great the weather was down

there.”

We chatted for a few more minutes before the giant pulled a notepad out of his

pocket, and Owen and I told him what had happened. Xavier asked several

questions, writing everything down, then looked at me.

“Bria texted me,” he said. “She told me about Finn’s mom.”

I rubbed my aching head. “Yeah.”

“Go make sure he’s okay,” Xavier said. “If I need anything else, I’ll

call. And tell Bria that I’ll check in with her later.”

I stepped forward and hugged him. “Thank you.”

Xavier hugged me back, then winked. “That’s what friends are for, right?”

One of the other cops called his name. Xavier waved at the man, smiled at Owen

and me a final time, then headed off in that direction.

“You ready to leave?” Owen asked.

I looked out over the lobby, just like Xavier had done. In a matter of

minutes, the elegant space had been ruined. The marble walls scorched and

cracked by bullets, the floor littered with glass, crystal, and shell casings,

the antique furniture smashed to pieces. This destruction was bad enough, but

worry iced over my heart as I thought of how Deirdre might hurt Finn—and how

much more permanent that damage might be.

“Gin?” Owen asked again.

I shook my head, trying to squash my troubling thoughts, but I wasn’t the

least bit successful. “Yeah,” I said. “Let’s go check on Finn.”





9

Owen and I left the bank and drove over to Jo-Jo’s house. During the ride, I

told him about discovering Fletcher’s file on Deirdre, digging up her grave,

and finding the box of photos and mementos that had been hidden inside. I even