Bitter Bite (Elemental Assassin #14)(7)

trouble she was in but because she’d destroyed something so delicate and

beautiful. Such an ordinary memory but one of the few relatively happy ones I

had from my childhood . . .

“Gin?”

“Yeah,” I rasped through the hard knot of emotion clogging my throat. “I

remember.”

“And do you remember how you handled it?”

I shrugged again, still not sure what she was getting at.

Her sad smile brightened, just a bit. “Annabella was planning on sneaking out

of the house to party with her friends, so you blackmailed her into buying the

same snow globe with her allowance, even though it cost a fortune. Mom never

even knew that I’d broken the old one.”

Bria’s gaze drifted up to two drawings I’d sketched that were propped up on

the fireplace mantel. One was a snowflake, symbolizing icy calm, and the other

was an ivy vine, representing elegance. Matching pendants were draped over the

respective frames. The runes for Eira Snow, our mother, and Annabella, our

older sister, both murdered long ago.

Bria’s hand crept up to her throat and her own primrose rune, the symbol for

beauty. The motion made two rings glint on her hand, one embossed with

snowflakes and the other with ivy vines. I wore a similar ring stamped with my

spider rune, a gift from Bria, with a matching pendant hanging around my neck,

buried under my layers of clothes.

My sister stared at the drawings a moment longer before dropping her hand from

her necklace and focusing on me again. “That was the very first time I

realized how much you loved me . . . and just how sneaky you could be.”

I cleared my throat, pushing away the memories and the melancholy heartache

they always brought along with them. “So you came over here tonight because I

’ve been quiet?”

“Too quiet, as they say.” She kept staring at me. “Your special kind of

quiet that means something is up. If it makes you feel any better, I don’t

think anyone else has noticed yet. Not even Silvio, despite all his GPS

trackers.”

Bria was right. I did have a tendency to get quiet—too quiet—when something

was on my mind, just like when we were kids. I didn’t know whether to be

flattered or annoyed that she knew me so well. Or just plain worried I hadn’t

been able to hide my inner turmoil any better.

“Now,” she drawled, “I am a trained detective, so I figure that whatever

has been bothering you most likely has to do with that file on the coffee

table.”

I tensed, my arm curling even tighter around the box I was still clutching.

“I didn’t look at the file,” she said. “I respect your privacy too much

for that.”

“But . . .”

“But I would like for you to tell me what’s going on, since it’s obviously

much more serious than a broken snow globe.” Stubborn determination filled

her face. “And I especially want you to tell me how I can help. No matter how

bad it is, we can figure it out—together.”

I suddenly wanted to confess everything to her, but still, I hesitated,

shifting on my feet again, moving the box from one arm to the other. Despite

Bria’s desire to help, I was still me, still the suspicious assassin Fletcher

had molded me into, one who knew that secrets could be more dangerous than

anything else.

Sure, I had a burning desire to know every little thing that was in the box,

especially since the old man had carved my spider rune into it, a clear

message that he had wanted me to find it. But an even bigger part of me was

worried about what might be inside—what dark, ugly, painful truths Fletcher

had gone to such great lengths to bury, literally.

Truths that could hurt Finn.

Bria sensed that I was wavering, and she kept her gaze steady on mine. “Let

me help you. Let me carry some of the load. Please, Gin.”

Her voice was even softer this time, but her tone was sincere, strong, and

filled with understanding. She got to her feet, stepped in front of me, and

held out her arms, waiting for me to let her help, waiting for me to let her

in.

And just like that, all the resistance drained out of me.

I slid the silverstone box into her arms. Then I stepped back and massaged

first one arm, then the other, trying to ease the dull ache that had built up

in my muscles. Funny, but I hadn’t realized how heavy the box was until now.

Bria nodded at me, then put the box down on the coffee table, right next to

Deirdre’s file. She eyed my spider rune carved into the top of the box but

didn’t say anything or make a move to open it. Instead, she waited while I

shrugged out of my dirt-and-blood-crusted jacket, spread a blanket out on the

couch, and plopped down on it. Bria dragged the coffee table over to the couch

and sat down next to me.

We both stared at the box, quiet and still. The only sounds were the steady

tick-tick-ticks of various clocks in the house, along with the whistle of the