Bitter Bite (Elemental Assassin #14)(61)







18

The next night was the grand opening of the jewelry exhibit. Even if I hadn’t

been invited by Mama Dee herself, a whole passel of assassins couldn’t have

kept me from seeing what was supposed to be her crowning achievement.

The event was being held at Briartop, Ashland’s largest, fanciest, and most

self-important art museum. And, lately, the most maligned, given all the

deaths and injuries that had resulted from Clementine Barker’s almost-

successful heist back during the summer.

Briartop perched on top of a rocky ridge of an island in the middle of the

Aneirin River and was accessible only by crossing an old-fashioned whitewashed

covered wooden bridge. Given the previous robbery attempt, the police had come

out in full force for tonight’s event, and groups of officers were stationed

at both ends of the bridge, shining their flashlights into every car and

examining invitations before they let anyone cross over to the island itself.

Owen showed our invitation to the cops, who waved us on through, then steered

his car across the bridge and into the receiving line of vehicles crawling up

the hill. He handed his keys off to a valet, and we walked arm in arm toward

the museum.

Even by Ashland standards, Briartop was impressive: five stories of gleaming

gray marble, with a coal-black slate roof and fat, pointed turrets that made

it look like the Southern version of a fairy-tale castle. Crenellated

balconies clung to the front of the building like square, narrow spiderwebs,

adding to the castle illusion, while four massive columns flanked the main

entrance.

More cops were stationed outside the entrance, along with the museum’s own

guards, all of them checking invitations a second time just to make sure that

no one slipped past them who wasn’t supposed to be here. If Deirdre was

planning to steal the exhibit jewelry, she would have a hard time getting

through all the security. But if that wasn’t her plan, then what was? Worry

wiggled like a worm on a hook in the bottom of my stomach. Try as I might, I

still couldn’t see what her endgame was, much less how or even if it involved

Finn.

Owen and I got in line to have our invitations checked again. Tonight’s event

was black-tie to the max, and the folks milling around the museum entrance had

risen to the occasion, with the men in classic tuxedoes and the women in

glittering gowns. Even among the highfalutin crowd, Owen attracted more than

his share of attention. His blue-black hair gleamed under the lights, and his

black tuxedo jacket stretched perfectly over his broad, muscled shoulders,

making him even more ruggedly handsome than usual.

I attracted some glances too, mostly because of my dress. The blood-red velvet

that was always my color hugged my body like a second skin, but what made the

dress really stand out was the spiderweb pattern done in black crystals

stretching across the bodice. Smaller webs, also done in black crystals,

flowed down the skirt before trimming the entire bottom of the garment, making

me look like a black widow spider come to life.

More than one person did a double take at the dress’s obvious association

with my assassin alter ego, and whispers sprang up all around me. I ignored

them. Let people think what they wanted to about me. I had much more important

things to worry about tonight.

“Why, Blanco, fancy seeing you here,” a snide voice murmured.

I looked to my right to find Dimitri Barkov standing a few feet away, a blonde

with sky-high hair and overinflated breasts clinging to his arm like wet

tissue paper. The Russian gangster was wearing a tux, and he’d even gone to

the trouble of styling his shaggy black toupee into an elaborate pompadour.

All the grease in the fake hair made it look like an oil slick spreading

across his scalp.

Dimitri’s cold brown eyes flicked over my dress. He opened his mouth to

deliver some insult, but his date thrust her breasts up against his side and

stuck her lower lip out in an exaggerated pout.

“Come on, Dimi,” she crooned in a baby-doll voice. “I want to go inside and

see the jewels like you promised.”

He looked at her, his face flat. “And I told you never to interrupt me when I

’m talking business.”

The blonde heard the threat in his words loud and clear. Despite her heavy

makeup, her face paled, and she dropped her head in apology. Her body started

trembling so hard that her breasts threatened to jiggle right out of the top

of her dress.

Dimitri turned back to me. “See you around, Blanco,” he said, sneering.

He gave me another cold glare, then headed for the entrance and disappeared

inside the museum, since he and his date had already been cleared. I didn’t

like his smug smirk, not one little bit. Dimitri was definitely up to

something, but this wasn’t the time or place to confront him.

“What was that about?” Owen asked.

“Just a minor mobster trying to be threatening. Forget about it. I could kill

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