Bitter Bite (Elemental Assassin #14)(60)

bedtime stories about how lavish and fancy some of the high-society parties

had been. Bria had loved those stories and spent hours playing dress-up in our

mother’s old gowns and jewelry, pretending that she was a Southern princess.

“Could I borrow this photo? Bria would love to see it.”

Mallory nodded, closed the book, and pushed it over to me. “Take the whole

thing. There are more party photos in there, and you might find some more

shots of your mama. Feel free to have some copies made, if you like.”

I nodded my thanks, my chest tight with emotion. I didn’t have any photos of

my mother—not a single one—and neither did Bria. They’d all been destroyed

the night Mab Monroe murdered her and Annabella and burned our mansion to the

ground.

This . . . this must have been what Finn had felt like the first day he met

with Deirdre at the Pork Pit. The shock, the surprise, the unexpected delight.

Although more than a little melancholy was mixed in with my emotions. Because,

unlike Deirdre, my mama was dead. I had watched a ball of elemental Fire

reduce her beautiful face to ash in an instant. I breathed in, and the fumes

from the moonshine took on a smoky, charred scent, the same way my mama’s

body had smelled after Mab killed her—

I shook my head to chase away memories that were better left buried. Focus. I

needed to focus right now. “Is there anything else you can tell me about

Deirdre? Anything at all?”

Mallory fingered one of her diamond bracelets. “Well, there is one other

thing you might be interested in. Some lackey of hers came ’round here last

week, asking if I would donate some of my jewelry to that charity exhibit she

’s putting together.”

“Was it a vampire?” I asked. “A guy named Hugh Tucker?”

Lorelei shook her head. “It was some woman who said she worked for Deirdre’s

charity foundation. Apparently, Deirdre and her minions have been making the

society rounds, asking everyone to show off their Sunday jewels.” She paused.

“For the children, of course.”

“Moonshine makes you catty.” I grinned. “I like it.”

Lorelei toasted me with her glass and took another sip.

“Well, I didn’t like her attitude,” Mallory said. “She swaggered in here,

acting like she was doing me some big favor by asking for my jewels. And she

had the nerve to talk down to me. I’m three hundred and thirty-three years

old. I’m not senile. Hmph.”

I grinned again. I could imagine Mallory dressing down the charity worker.

“So what did you tell her?”

“I told her no, that I liked my diamonds right where I could see ’em—

namely, on me—and not behind some flimsy sheets of glass.”

Hmm. Now, that was a possibility I hadn’t considered. Clementine Barker and

her cadre of giants had almost pulled off the crime of the century at the

Briartop museum back during the summer. Perhaps Deirdre was planning to do the

same. All that jewelry would make for a nice score.

It made sense . . . but then again, it didn’t. Why bother cozying up to Finn

if she was going to rob the museum? Deirdre had already put her exhibit in

motion before she’d first contacted him. What was I missing? What angle was I

not seeing?

Maybe Deirdre’s scheme and her interest in Finn were two different things.

Maybe she really did want to be part of his life but without giving up her

criminal enterprises, whatever they might be. Or maybe Deirdre wasn’t

planning to rob the museum at all. Maybe I just thought that was her plan

because of the previous robbery attempt. Surely she wouldn’t be so obvious

and so dumb as to repeat Clementine Barker’s mistakes.

“What did the charity worker say when you told her no?” I asked.

Mallory shrugged. “She thanked me and went on her way.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.” She shook her head, making her diamond choker sparkle. “I’m

sorry, sweetheart. I know it’s not much, and I wish that I could tell you

more. I wish that I could give you some of the answers you want, and Finn too.

He’s a sweet, lovely boy, and I consider you both dear friends. But I’m

afraid that all I have are old photos and memories.”

She gave me a sympathetic look. So did Lorelei. But it wasn’t their fault

that I hadn’t found anything on Deirdre yet. I was going to keep right on

searching and spying on Mama Dee, no matter how long it took. No matter how

many lunches I had to cook for her and no matter how many times I had to sit

and smile when all I really wanted to do was punch her in the face.

“Are you okay, Gin?” Lorelei asked. “You look like you want to hit someone.

”

I gave them a bright smile and pushed my mason jar back over to Mallory. “You

know what? Pour me some more of your liquid torture. After the week I’ve had,

I could use it.”