Bitter Bite (Elemental Assassin #14)(43)

Not when she’d left Finn, Fletcher, and the restaurant years ago.

But Finn apparently didn’t see anything wrong with her words, because he

nodded his agreement. “You’re absolutely right. You wouldn’t believe how

long it took me to persuade Dad to get new menus printed up a couple of years

ago. The pictures were faded, and you could practically wipe the grease off

the pages, but he still didn’t want to change them.”

The two of them looked at each other and chuckled, coconspirators in their own

little joke at Fletcher’s expense. I mashed my lips together, biting back a

sharp retort. Deirdre had already charmed her way into Finn’s good graces, so

my snapping at her would only make Finn take up for her that much more. I held

my tongue and my temper—for now.

“A grilled cheese and an iced tea, coming right up,” I muttered.

I took Finn’s and Bria’s orders of barbecue chicken sandwiches and onion

rings, then handed the tickets off to Catalina. Across the restaurant, Sophia

gave Deirdre another hard, flat stare, but she fixed the other woman’s food

in silence, along with the rest of the order.

When everyone’s food was ready, I grabbed the hot plates and deposited them

on the tabletop. Bria and Finn were sitting on one side of the booth, with

Deirdre across from them. Rather than slide in next to the Ice elemental, I

drew up a chair to the end of the booth and sat down.

Since it was just after three, the dinner rush hadn’t started yet, and the

restaurant was largely deserted. Good. I didn’t want any of the underworld

bosses coming in and seeing what might turn into an ugly confrontation. I had

enough problems already without giving them any more ammunition.

Finn finally noticed that I wasn’t nearly as delighted to have his mother

here as he was. He gave me a stern look, telling me to be nice, but I glared

back at him, still pissed at how he’d brushed off Jo-Jo. After a moment, his

gaze slid away from mine, and he focused on Deirdre again.

Silence fell over the booth as the three of them picked at their food. Deirdre

kept sneaking little glances at Finn, a smile stretching her scarlet lips

wider and wider all the while, as if she were just thrilled that she was

finally sitting here with her son and just couldn’t contain her enthusiasm

any longer. In that moment, she looked exactly the same as she did in all

those old photos—soft, sweet, beautiful—and I could see why Fletcher had

fallen under her spell all those years ago, just like Finn was doing right

now.

Deirdre turned her attention to Bria, her gaze dropping to the primrose rune

that hung around my sister’s neck. For a second, just a second, something

flared in her eyes, some thought or memory, but she quickly cranked up the

wattage on her smile, hiding the emotion. I got the sense that she did that a

lot—just smiled and smiled at folks long and hard and bright enough so that

they eventually forgot how dangerous she truly was.

“You met Bria last night, remember?” Finn said, noticing his mother’s gaze.

“And you’ve heard me talk about her the past few weeks.”

“Yes, of course,” Deirdre said. “I was just admiring what a lovely couple

the two of you make. Bria is quite striking. And your rune, honey. That’s a

primrose, right? The symbol for beauty? It fits you perfectly.”

“Mmm,” Bria replied, her face thoughtful as she stared at Deirdre’s

icicle-heart necklace again.

Deirdre looked at me. “Why, Gin, honey, you don’t have to sit all the way

down there. I promise I won’t bite.”

She winked, let out a merry laugh, and patted me on the shoulder the way she

might a child she found particularly amusing.

I wanted to palm one of my knives and shish-kebab her hand to the tabletop,

but I settled for giving her a grin that was all sharp, pointed teeth. “Oh,

no,” I drawled. “I know that you won’t bite—but I just might.”

Deirdre laughed again and shook her finger at me. “Finnegan told me all about

you, but he failed to mention what a hoot you are.”

“Oh, I doubt that, honey,” I drawled again. “Finn doesn’t usually go

around telling people that I moonlight as an assassin. But I imagine you know

all about my sideline business already. After all, you were involved with

Fletcher.”

Deirdre’s chuckles died on her lips, and she opened, then closed her mouth,

as if debating whether or not to claim that she hadn’t known anything about

Fletcher being an assassin. But she squared her shoulders and owned up to it.

“Yes, I was well aware of Fletcher’s . . . proclivities. I had hoped that

his . . . distasteful activities had ended with him, but I see now that my

hopes were in vain.”

Her gaze flicked over me, taking in my blue work apron before lingering on the

long sleeves of my black T-shirt. She knew that I had a knife tucked up either