Bitter Bite (Elemental Assassin #14)(68)

my legs.

Paul loomed over me, a smile splitting his face as he reached for his belt

buckle . . .

I woke up screaming and pounding my fists into my pillows, just as I’d tried

to hit the three vamps so long ago. It took me a minute to remember that I was

safe in Fletcher’s house, longer still to calm my ragged breathing and racing

heart.

But the feeling remained—that awful, awful feeling that I was all alone. That

danger was closing in fast all around me.

That no one was coming to help me.

It was the same feeling I got whenever I looked at Deirdre. That Fletcher was

gone. That she’d taken Finn away from me, and that there was nothing I could

do to get him back.

That I was all alone again.

I knew that it wasn’t true, that it wasn’t rational, that Finn, Bria, Owen,

and the rest of my friends loved me. But my worried, traitorous heart still

made me feel alone and small and empty.

And scared—so very scared.

I lay in bed for several minutes, catching my breath and trying to get my

emotions under control. But the truth was that I had been decidedly out of

control ever since Deirdre waltzed into Finn’s life. I could be hard when I

needed to, as cold as ice even, but Deirdre . . . she was in a league by

herself. With just a few soft sentences, she’d brought all my guilt, grief,

and heartache about Fletcher’s death roaring back to the surface.

I kept waiting for her to slip up, to crack, to finally reveal her true nature

to Finn and everyone else. I was the Spider, I was patience itself, but

nothing I said or did so much as rattled Mama Dee. She was much better at this

game we were playing. She was winning, and Finn was going to be her prize.

And I’d be damned if I could see a way to stop her.

*

Even though it was just after eleven, I didn’t even try to go back to sleep.

Not when there were more nightmares swimming around in my subconscious like

sharks waiting to take another bite out of my heart. Instead of tossing and

turning, I decided to get up and do something useful.

Spy on Deirdre.

I put on my usual black clothes, topped off with a black silverstone vest, and

made sure that I had all five of my knives. Then I grabbed a duffel bag full

of extra knives and other gear, threw it into my car, and drove over to the

Peach Blossom. It was just after midnight when I parked my car in a lot close

to Deirdre’s building. I looked up and down the street, but it was deserted

at this late hour, so I got out of my car, grabbed my gear, and hurried over

to the building across the street.

This building didn’t have any external security cameras, but I still kept to

the shadows as I sidled up to the side door. I looked left and right again,

but no one was out and about, so I reached for my Ice magic, holding my palm

close to my chest and turning my back to the street to hide the cold, silvery

glow of my power. A second later, I was clutching two long, slender Ice picks,

which I used to unlock the door, just as I’d done all the previous times I’d

come here. I threw the Ice picks onto the ground to melt away, then slipped

inside.

The building was used for office space, so no one was creeping around this

late on a Friday night, not even janitors taking out the week’s trash. I

climbed to the top of the fire stairs, used another set of Ice picks to open

the door there, and stepped out onto the roof.

The Peach Blossom was roughly the same height as the building I was on, and

the roof here gave me a clear, direct view of Deirdre’s penthouse on the top

floor. But the windows were dark, and no one moved through the shadows there.

Deirdre wasn’t home yet. Not surprising. She’d be the last person to leave

her swanky gala.

So I pulled out my binoculars, a digital surveillance camera, and a

directional microphone from my duffel bag. I’d thought about leaving

everything here so I could record Deirdre 24-7, but I didn’t want to risk

someone coming up to the roof and finding my equipment, alerting her to the

fact that someone was spying on her.

I’d just finished checking my gadgets and making sure that everything was in

working order when lights winked on in the penthouse. I checked my phone. Not

even one in the morning yet. Deirdre hadn’t enjoyed her night of triumph

nearly as long as I’d expected.

I turned on the microphone, set it and the camera on the ledge, and aimed them

just so. Then I picked up my binoculars and peered through them at the

penthouse, which took up the entire top floor. The spacious suite was largely

furnished in cool whites, from the marble counters in the kitchen to the sofas

in the living room to the thick carpet underfoot. Pale blue paint covered the

walls, with matching pillows and chairs adding a bit more color to the rooms.

The kitchen and living room were one open space, with a hall leading to two

bedrooms, each with its own attached bathroom.

Deirdre strode through the kitchen and into the living room, still wearing her