Bitter Bite (Elemental Assassin #14)(76)

pincushion?”

“I—I don’t know!” he screamed. “I don’t know what she’s up to! I swear!

”

I scraped the cold, bloody dagger down his cheek, making him shudder. “So

what do you know? What is she doing with Santos? What kind of uniform was he

wearing?”

“It’s—it’s a security guard uniform!” Dimitri sputtered. “I import them

for lots of businesses! That’s one of the reasons they came to me for

supplies!”

“Which businesses? What was the name on his uniform?”

“I don’t know! It’s just a generic uniform! I never saw what name Santos

had put on it or any of the others!”

I stopped, the Ice dagger right next to Dimitri’s left eye. “Others? How

many uniforms did you give him?”

His eyes flicked to the dagger, so I bore down with it, digging the cold tip

into his face, deep enough to draw blood.

“How many uniforms did you give him?” I asked again.

“A—about a dozen!”

“And what businesses employ guards with those kinds of uniforms?”

“Some jewelry stores, museums, the Posh boutique, all the downtown banks . .

.”

Dimitri kept rattling off businesses, but he’d already said the magic word:

museums.

As in Briartop.

I cursed. Deirdre was planning to rob her own jewelry exhibit, just like I’d

thought. Of course she’d had an ulterior motive for getting all those gems in

one place. But I still didn’t understand how she thought she was going to

pull it off. Even if she had a dozen men, including Santos, there were twice

as many museum guards, along with at least a couple of cops. The only thing

the thieves were going to get was dead. Not that I had a problem with that,

but it was such a big, stupid risk to take.

According to Silvio, Deirdre was skimming millions from her charity

foundation. So why would she need to steal the jewelry? Sure, it was a big

enough payday to tempt anyone, but everyone knew that Deirdre was the driving

force behind the exhibit. Why make enemies out of all the people who’d

donated their jewelry? Folks in Ashland had long memories and enough cash and

connections to hunt her down and make her pay for stealing from them. And I

still didn’t see how Finn fit in with all of this. Something else was going

on here. Something I just didn’t see yet.

Dimitri’s hand crept across the concrete, his fingers inching toward the tire

iron that I’d dropped earlier. I snapped up my Ice dagger and drove it all

the way through his hand. He screamed, but I pressed the tire iron against his

throat again. He swallowed down his screams, although tears streamed out of

the corners of his eyes.

“Tell me about Briartop. When exactly are Santos and his crew planning to hit

the museum?”

His eyes twitched, and his tongue swiped across his lips in a nervous gesture.

“I—I didn’t say anything about Briartop. They don’t use those uniforms

there.”

I shook my head. “I hate it when people lie to me, Dimitri. Makes me want to

stab them. But since I’ve already done that to you, I guess I’ll just have

to settle for this instead.”

I sent out a small burst of magic and shattered the Ice dagger still in his

hand, making him scream again. But Dimitri was tougher than I’d given him

credit for, because he surged up, grabbed the tire iron against his throat,

and tried to wrest it away from me. Fool.

I thought about questioning him some more, but that would take precious time.

It was enough that I knew where Deirdre was headed, so I decided to put

Dimitri out of my misery. He didn’t even manage to get a good grip on the

tire iron before I had formed another Ice dagger and rammed it into his

throat.

The mobster fell back, his blood sluicing across the floor and mixing in with

the greasy strands of his black toupee. He let out a few wheezing breaths

before his head lolled to the side and he was still.

Silvio would have been proud of me. I’d finally scratched one enemy off my

to-do list.

Deirdre Shaw was next.

*

Once I was sure Dimitri was dead, I rifled through his pockets, taking his car

keys and all the cash in his wallet. I would have used his phone to call my

friends and tell them what was happening, but it required a PIN code, so I

tossed it aside.

All the while, I kept glancing at the warehouse door, expecting men to come

running inside, guns drawn. But no one appeared, and I didn’t hear anything

but a faint, steady rush that indicated I was somewhere near the water. Either

no one else was around or they hadn’t heard the gunshots. I checked the time

on Dimitri’s fancy gold watch. Just after nine on this Saturday morning.

After I searched Dimitri, I patted down the dead guards, looking for a phone I

could use. But all their phones were locked the same way their boss’s had