PREVIOUS BOOKS IN THE ELEMENTAL ASSASSIN SERIES BY JENNIFER ESTEP
Spider’s Bite
Web of Lies
Venom
Tangled Threads
Spider’s Revenge
By a Thread
AVAILABLE FROM POCKET BOOKS
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2012 by Jennifer Estep
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First Pocket Books ebook edition January 2012
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ISBN: 978-1-4516-8532-9 (print)
eISBN: 978-1-4516-8532-9 (ebook)
As always, to my mom, grandma, and Andre,
for all their encouragement over the years
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Once again, my heartfelt thanks go to all the folks who help turn my words into a story.
Thanks go to my agent, Annelise Robey, and editor, Lauren McKenna, for all their helpful advice, support, and encouragement.
Thanks to everyone at Pocket and Simon & Schuster for their work on the Elemental Assassin series.
And, finally, a big thanks to all the readers. Knowing that folks read and enjoy my writing is truly humbling, and I’m glad that you are all enjoying Gin and her adventures.
I appreciate you all more than you will ever know.
Happy reading!
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By a Thread
BY JENNIFER ESTEP
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CONTENTS
1
THREAD OF DEATH
2
BY A THREAD EXCERPT
Thread of Death
Gin Blanco
I couldn’t believe the bitch was dead.
Mab Monroe, the Fire elemental who’d been head of the Ashland underworld for years, the woman who’d murdered my mother and older sister, was finally, finally dead.
And I was the one who’d made her that way.
Me. Gin Blanco. The assassin known as the Spider.
Now, my killing people as the Spider was nothing new. I’d helped more than a few folks quit breathing over the years, whether for money or to help out my friends or for my continued survival. But Mab had been different—and killing her had been very, very personal.
The Fire elemental hadn’t gone down without a fight—the toughest fucking fight of both our lives. Not that I’d expected anything less from Mab. Not only had she been rumored to be the strongest elemental born in the last five hundred years, but she had also been as smart, cunning, and as vicious as they come. You didn’t get to be the head of the Ashland underworld and stay there as long as she had without being absolutely ruthless. Oh, no. Taking down Mab had been anything but simple. I still couldn’t quite believe she was dead—and I wasn’t.
But killing Mab hadn’t been without a price. We’d fought each other in an elemental duel, my Ice and Stone magic against her Fire power. According to some folks who’d been there, you could see the flames of our respective magics from a half mile away. I didn’t know whether I believed that or not, but Mab was seconds from incinerating me before I finally managed to stab the bitch in her black heart with one of my silverstone knives. Even then, Mab’s Fire washed over me, engulfing most of my body and burning me down to the bone, and I was about a breath away from dying right along with her. Now, after weeks of healing Air magic and intensive physical therapy, I was finally back to my old self—more or less.
I peered into the mirror in my bedroom, critically eyeing my reflection. This would be one of the first times I’d been out in public since killing Mab, and I wanted to be sure I looked one hundred percent, like the Gin of old, even if I knew I wasn’t quite there yet.
My dark chocolate brown hair was pulled back into a sleek pony-tail, while black shadow, mascara, and liner rimmed my eyes, bringing out their cold gray color. A shiny strawberry-pink gloss covered my lips, softening the heavy eye makeup, while a bronzing powder added some much-needed color to my cheeks. Despite the coppery sheen, a hint of death white still tinged my skin, reminding me how I’d come close to dying right alongside Mab.
I smoothed down a stray hair and plucked a piece of lint off my right sleeve. I’d traded in my usual jeans and long-sleeved T-shirt for a pantsuit. Stark, black, and simple, given where I was going today. Sturdy black low-heeled boots encased my feet, while my usual five knives were hidden on my body. One up either sleeve, one in the small of my back, and two tucked into the sides of my boots.
Just because Mab was dead didn’t mean that I could lower my guard and leave my weapons at home. Quite the contrary. There were still lots of other dangerous folks in Ashland, people who would just as soon shoot you as look at you—and those were some of the nicer folks in town. That was one of the reasons I was going out today and had taken such care with my appearance. I wanted to see for myself just how much the underworld landscape had shifted with the Fire elemental’s death and more important what it might mean for me as the Spider and Gin Blanco too.
Footsteps sounded outside in the hallway, a steady, familiar tread that I knew and welcomed. A moment later, a soft knock sounded on the door.
“Come on in,” I called out. “I’m ready.”
The door opened, and my lover, Owen Grayson, stepped into the bedroom.
Owen wore a black suit similar to mine over a smoke gray shirt and matching tie. The fitted fabric outlined his body, stretching over the hard, sculpted muscles of his chest and arms, while the dark colors only made him seem more ruggedly handsome, especially when paired with his blue-black hair and the slightly crooked tilt of his nose.
Owen looked at me, a troubled light flaring in his violet eyes. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked. “You don’t have to, you know. You don’t have anything to prove to anyone. Not to me, not to the others, and especially not to yourself.”
That’s where he was wrong. I had a lot of things to prove to myself—namely, that I could be the same Gin, the same Spider, as before. Physically, I was still weak from my fight with Mab. Still stiff and creaky, still saddled with arms and legs that gave out too soon, still without the quickness, stamina, and strength I’d had before. I knew those things would return eventually, but I was pushing myself hard to get back to where I’d been as soon as possible. I couldn’t afford not to.
But today wasn’t about my physical limitations. No, today—today was about my state of mind. Today was one of the necessary steps to recapturing that mental toughness that had served me so well over the years. Once I got that back, everything else would follow. That’s why I was so determined to go through with t
his particular outing. I wanted to be the old me—starting right now.
I didn’t tell Owen any of my thoughts, though. He’d already spent far too long worrying far too much about me. So had the others. They’d all spent the last few weeks taking care of me, healing me, helping me with my rehab—even cooking for me. I appreciated their care and concern, but it had been hard for me to take it slow, to let myself rest, relax, and heal. Now, after all these weeks of recuperating, I figured it was time for me to look after myself again.
I walked over to Owen and wrapped my arms around his neck. He put his hands on my waist and drew me closer, the warmth of his fingers and the heat of his body driving away the faint, nagging chill I’d felt ever since I’d killed Mab.
“I’m sure,” I said in a firm voice. “We both know I need to do this. I need to go there and see her—for all sorts of reasons.”
“I know,” Owen murmured, concern and worry deepening his voice. “But I don’t like it. You’re still not fully recovered. What if someone notices that? What if something happens?”
I grinned at him. “Then it’s a good thing you, Finn, and everyone else will be there watching out for me. Don’t worry. Nothing’s going to happen.”
Not today.
I didn’t say the words, but I could tell Owen was thinking them just like I was. This was new territory we were entering, and neither one of us knew quite what to make of it. I didn’t think anyone in the entire city knew exactly how things were going to play out, and I imagined that all the other folks in attendance today would be waiting to see what happened and which way the wind was blowing, just like Owen and I would be.
I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him, flicking my tongue against his lips. Owen opened his mouth, his tongue stroking against my own. More warmth pooled in my stomach, driving away the last of the chill. As we kissed, I ran my hands through his hair, then down over the chiseled planes of his face, enjoying the heat of his skin, his mouth, on mine. No matter how much I touched him, I always marveled at the strength of his body and the desire he was able to ignite in me. It thrummed through my veins like a siren’s seductive song, whispering of all the pleasures that could be had between us.
“You know, we could just forget about going out and spend the rest of the day in bed,” he murmured, and kissed the side of my neck, even as his hands slid down to the buttons on my suit jacket.
“As tempting as that is, you know we have someplace to be,” I replied, running my hands across his broad shoulders. “Unfortunately, this is an appointment that I just can’t miss, no matter how tempting your proposition may be.”
Owen drew back, his eyes shimmering with heat. “Rain check, then? Tonight at my place? If you feel up to it, of course.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Is that a challenge, Grayson? Because you know how much I love those—and showing you just how up to it I am.”
He grinned and lowered his mouth to mine. We kissed again, long, soft, and slow, teasing each other with promises of tonight, before finally breaking apart. Owen held me tight for a moment before finally dropping his hands from my waist.
“Come on,” he said. “If you’re still determined to do this, then we need to go. We wouldn’t want to be late.”
I snorted. “Oh, no. We definitely wouldn’t want to be late for this.”
We walked downstairs, where the others were waiting in the den of Fletcher Lane’s house—my house now. Finnegan Lane, my foster brother, had his arm slung around the shoulders of Detective Bria Coolidge, my baby sister, no doubt murmuring sweet nothings into her ear, since Roslyn Phillips was looking at them both with an amused grin. Jolene “Jo-Jo” Deveraux was sitting on the plaid sofa, flipping through a beauty magazine, while her sister, Sophia, was looking at the rune drawings that were propped up on the mantel: a snowflake, an ivy vine, a primrose, and the neon pig sign outside the Pork Pit. All symbols of people I’d loved and lost over the years.
My friends and family were all dressed in somber, serious black, just like Owen and I were. Finn wore one of his many Fiona Fine designer suits, while Bria sported a jacket and white silk blouse over a skirt. Roslyn also wore a black jacket and skirt, both of which highlighted her gorgeous curves. Jo-Jo had on a dress topped by her usual strand of pearls. A small black hat sporting a white lily perched on the side of the dwarf’s head, pinned to her white-blond curls.
For once, we all matched Sophia’s usual dark clothes. The Goth dwarf wore a pantsuit similar to mine, although she’d accessorized hers with heavy boots and a black leather collar around her neck. Black lipstick covered her lips, and pale gray glitter glistened in her hair.
I cleared my throat, and everyone turned to look at me. “Well,” I said. “I guess this is it.”
“It’s about time,” Finn groused. “We’ve been waiting down here forever.”
Bria glanced at the clock on the wall. “Yes, if by ‘forever’ you mean five minutes.”
Finn smiled at her, a sly look in his green eyes. “Time is money, cupcake, especially when it comes to my time, what I do with it, and particularly who I do it with.”
He leaned over and whispered something in her ear, which made Bria stiffen and caused her cheeks to explode in a fiery blush. They were a new couple, having hooked up shortly before Mab’s death, and Finn still had the ability to shock my sister. Still, despite her blush, her features softened into a smile as she looked at him. Finn gave her a slow, shameless, saucy wink. He liked teasing her.
It was nice to see my sister smile, something she hadn’t done much of lately. I wasn’t the only one who’d suffered at Mab’s hands. Despite my efforts to keep her safe, a bounty hunter had kidnapped Bria and delivered her to Mab’s mansion, where the Fire elemental had spent a long, long night using her magic to torture my sister. Burning Bria with her cruel, cruel Fire.
Finn and the others had rescued Bria while I battled Mab, and Jo-Jo had used her Air magic to heal all of Bria’s wounds, but the damage had still been done. My sister had been quiet and withdrawn these past few weeks. I knew she was still trying to come to terms with that horrible night and all the fresh, painful scars it had left on the inside, just like I was—scars that no amount of magic could ever heal. My guilt over Bria’s capture and torture was like a knife in my stomach, one that twisted in a little deeper every time I saw the dark memories in her eyes. I wanted to make it up to my sister, wanted to ease her pain, but I just didn’t know how.
“It’s time to go,” Owen said again.
Sophia turned and left the room. Finn and Bria followed her, along with Roslyn and Owen. That left just me and Jo-Jo in the den. The middle-aged dwarf got to her feet and walked over to me, her black heels clacking on the floor.
“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Jo-Jo asked in her slow Southern drawl. “It might be harder than you think it’s going to be.”
I nodded. “I know, but today’s the day, and I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”
Jo-Jo reached out and grabbed my hand, gently squeezing my fingers with hers. I breathed in, and her perfume tickled my nose with its sweet scent.
“Don’t worry, darling,” she said. “It’ll be fine. You’ll see.”
I looked at the dwarf, wondering if she was using her Air elemental magic to peer into the future, but her colorless eyes were clear of the milky white clouds that sometimes wisped through her gaze.
“I know it will be fine,” I said in what I hoped was a strong voice. “Mab is dead. She can’t hurt me anymore. She can’t hurt anyone anymore.”
Jo-Jo cocked her head to the side, making the lily nestled in her hair bob up and down with the motion. “The dead can hurt us just as much as the living can. Sometimes even more so. You should know that by now, Gin.”
The dwarf squeezed my hand again and walked out of the den. Somehow, I held back the shiver that threatened to sweep through my body at her ominous words and followed her.
Thirty minutes later, Owen stopped his car behind a long line of other vehicles that
were parked on the side of the narrow, winding road. In the passenger’s-side mirror, I saw Sophia steer her classic convertible into the spot behind us, and there were more cars behind hers that were pulling over as well.
“Are you sure you can’t get any closer?” Finn asked from the backseat.
“No, I can’t get any closer,” Owen said. “Do you not see all the other vehicles here? Besides, it won’t kill you to walk, you know.”
Finn sniffed and pulled down his jacket. “No, but it will kill my new suit. I don’t want to get grass and pollen all over it. That will ruin the fabric, not to mention make me sneeze for hours.”
I looked at Owen and rolled my eyes. My lover winked at me. He always found Finn’s grandiose statements and put-upon airs much more amusing than I did.
“Don’t worry, Finn,” Roslyn said. “You’ll look wonderful no matter what. After all, it’s not the suit that makes the man. It’s the man who makes the suit. Isn’t that what they say?”
Finn preened at her words. Roslyn tended to have that effect on men. I turned around to look at the vampire. Roslyn smiled and shrugged her shoulders. Amusement glinted in her toffee-colored eyes.
“Look at the crowd,” Bria murmured from the backseat, peering through the window at the folks streaming past the car. “I didn’t think this many people would show up. Did everybody in Ashland decide to come here today?”
“Probably everyone in the underworld,” I said. “You know the old saying: ‘The queen is dead. Long live the queen.’”
The five of us got out of the car. Sophia and Jo-Jo walked over to us, and then we all fell in step with the hundreds of people who had gathered to pay their respects.
Thread of Death Page 1
