“I wonder what she wants,” he murmured.
“Nothing good,” I muttered.
Mallory was decked out in diamonds, just as she had been at the garden party, although she wore a blue pantsuit today instead of a frilly frock. Still, she was way overdressed for my gin joint, and everyone stared at her, including a few low-level thugs who eyed her jewelry with obvious interest.
At least, until they realized that Sophia was staring at them from behind the counter with her arms crossed over her chest, a butcher’s knife clutched in her hand. The Goth dwarf stabbed the knife toward the thugs, then toward the door. They couldn’t climb out of their booth and run outside fast enough. Sophia snickered and went back to work.
Catalina seated Mallory and took her order, before handing the ticket over to me. The dwarf had skipped all the lunch items and gone straight to dessert, ordering a piece of apple pie with a cinnamon-sugar crumb topping, vanilla-bean ice cream, and a hearty drizzle of rich homemade caramel sauce.
I fixed her pie, along with the glass of milk she’d ordered, and took it over to her. Mallory waved her hand, and I slid into the booth across from her. She nodded at me, then reached out, dragged her plate closer, and dug into the apple pie. I watched her eat in silence.
Mallory finished about half of her pie before she put down her fork and pushed her plate away. She sighed in contentment and delicately dabbed at her lips with a white paper napkin. “The pie is just as good as I remember. I see that you’ve kept Mr. Lane’s recipe.”
“I’ve kept all his recipes. You don’t mess with the classics.”
“No, you don’t.” She fixed me with a steely look. “You know why I’m here.”
“Lorelei.”
She nodded. “I want you to reconsider my offer. Given everything that happened yesterday, we never did get a chance to finish our discussion.”
“You mean Pike setting off his bomb?” I snarked. “That did put a damper on the festivities.”
Mallory arched her thin white eyebrows. “I see you have the same bad sarcasm as Lorelei.”
I sighed. “Look, I appreciate your wanting to protect your granddaughter. I even admire you for it. But I’m not the person for the job. You do realize that Lorelei is one of the most feared underworld bosses in Ashland, right? She is more than capable of taking care of herself.”
“Of course, I realize that. I taught her everything she knows.” Mallory waved her hand, flashing her rings. “And I certainly didn’t get all these diamonds by playing nice.”
“So if Lorelei is so capable, then why ask me for help?”
She shrugged. “It never hurts to have a little extra insurance.”
I barked out a laugh. “Insurance? Is that what I am to you? Lady, you need to work on your sales pitch.”
Mallory gave me another stern look. “I think you’re the person who has the best chance of killing Raymond—after Lorelei, of course—and I always like to back a winner. Besides, you’re not thinking about the big picture and what I can do for you.”
“I don’t need or want your ten million smackeroos.”
She steepled her hands together. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m not talking about mere money.”
“So what are you talking about?”
She whipped out that sweet, sly, dangerous smile of hers. “Respectability.”
“What do you mean?”
Mallory leaned forward. “Do you really want to spend the rest of your life tiptoeing around the cops and everyone else in town? Clinging to the shadows, even though you know they can’t hide you anymore? Mab Monroe never did that. Instead, she let everyone—and I do mean everyone—know exactly how powerful she was. And they all welcomed her with open arms, whether it was the cops or the criminals or the crème de la crème of Ashland society. Admittedly, that last group was too stupid to realize that Mab would kill them just as soon as look at them. But they and everyone else were all too afraid of her not to do exactly what she wanted when she wanted something done.”
“So?”
“So you’re the big boss now. You should act like it.” Mallory clenched her tiny hand into a tight fist. “Take control, seize power, and hold on to it with an iron grip, instead of letting others dictate how much of it you have.”
She wasn’t wrong. In fact, she was far too right—about everything. Not that I would ever admit that to her, though. I might be the big boss now, but it was in name only, and my grasp on the crown was tenuous at best, just as Lorelei had said in the gardens.
“Well, Gin?” Mallory asked. “What do you say?”
“You really think you can do all that?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest and leaning back against the booth. “Just wave your hand and have people welcome me with open arms, no matter how hoity-toity they are.”
She gave me a thin smile. “Of course I can. It’s one of the privileges of being part of the rich old guard—deciding who gets invited to the party. Trust me. I can make it happen.”
I stifled a groan. So not only would I have the other bosses to contend with, but I’d be the belle of Ashland society too. Talk about something I had never, ever wanted for myself.
“Forgive me if I find that hard to believe, given your own criminal background. Not to mention your granddaughter’s current, less-than-legal endeavors.”
“Bah. I’ve been around so long that no one remembers how I got my start or where my money came from. Or, if they do remember, they’re smart enough to keep their mouths shut about my running guns, moonshine, and everything else I could make a cold red cent on,” she said, her hillbilly twang becoming more pronounced the longer she talked. “Besides, it’s not like any of their hands are cleaner than mine. Just think about it, Gin. You could be powerful, feared, and legitimate. In this town, I’d say that’s better than winning the lottery.”
She kept that sweet, serene smile on her face, thinking that I would see the wisdom of her offer . . . sooner or later. Yeah. That was going to be later—a whole lot later. Like the tenth of never.
“Your generous proposal aside, Lorelei has made it abundantly clear that she doesn’t want my help.” I shrugged. “That settles the matter, as far as I’m concerned. If she wants to go toe-to-toe with her brother, then more power to her.”
Mallory shook her head. “You don’t understand how dangerous Raymond is—”
“I understand perfectly,” I snapped. “A couple of nights ago, I watched him murder a man using nothing more than a spoon and a little bit of his metal magic, and he’s almost killed me twice now with his bombs. Believe me, I am well acquainted with how dangerous he is. And your dropping the danger card and asking me to risk myself for Lorelei still isn’t selling it to me.”
Mallory’s jaw clenched, and she leaned forward again. “And you’re also well acquainted with the fact that he’s targeting the wrong woman. Does that sell it to you, Ms. Blanco?”
She’d just slapped down her trump card, and we both knew it. She waited, expecting some sort of emotion to flicker across my face. Guilt, most likely. Yeah, more than a little of that churned in my stomach, but I kept my features cold and hard and stared her down.
Mallory realized that I wasn’t going to back down or give in, and she just . . . deflated. Her head dropped, her shoulders slumped, and her entire body seemed to draw in on itself. Even the white, fluffy cloud of her hair deflated. Suddenly, she looked every one of her three-hundred-and-some years. Still, she tried once more to convince me.
“There’s nothing I can do or say to change your mind?” she asked in a soft, almost trembling voice.
“I’m sorry, but no.”
For a moment, tears gleamed in her eyes, but she blinked them back. “Then I’m sorry too.”
Mallory reached into her purse, plucked out some bills, and threw them onto the table. She slid out of the booth, got to her feet, and left the restaurant. I thought she might slam t
he door behind her, but she opened and closed it so quietly that the bell barely made a whisper at her passing.
I watched her plod down the sidewalk, her face pale and haggard, her body seeming more stooped and frail than ever before. Maybe it was cynical, but I wondered if the whole wounded-old-lady routine was just an act to sucker me in. But Mallory’s pace and posture didn’t change as she rounded the corner and disappeared.
I sighed. I’d done the right thing by telling her no. I knew I had.
So why did I feel so guilty about it?
20
I waited until Mallory had vanished, then got out of the booth, grabbed her dirty dishes, and went back over to where Owen, Finn, and Silvio were sitting at the counter.
“That didn’t look like it went well,” Owen said.
I dumped the half-eaten apple pie into a trash can behind the counter, along with the milk. “She still wants me to protect Lorelei. I told her no.”
Owen nodded, but his violet gaze never left my face. I held on to my blank mask, not wanting him or anyone else to see my inner turmoil. Because no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t help but feel like I was abandoning Lorelei to her own death at Pike’s hands. Running away, just like I had that day in the woods, only this time with no plans to double back to try to save her.
Fletcher would have been so disappointed in me.
“Uh-oh,” Finn said. “I know that look.”
“What look?”
“The look that says you’re feeling guilty about turning down Mallory, even though you had every right to.” Finn’s green eyes narrowed. “Why do you feel so responsible for Lorelei Parker all of a sudden?”
“I don’t. Not anymore.”
He frowned. “Not anymore? What does that mean?”
I shook my head. Fletcher and I had never told Finn what had happened that weekend he’d been gone, and I wasn’t about to clue him in now. Not when I was still trying to figure out how I felt about things.
“Forget it,” I muttered. “It doesn’t matter. Lorelei doesn’t want my help, and I have too many other things to worry about it. Besides, let someone else face down the psychotic elemental for a change. I’m out, and that’s that.”
Owen, Finn, and Silvio looked back and forth at one other.
“If that’s how you feel, then of course we will support you,” Silvio said. “It’s a wise decision. There’s no need to put yourself at further risk. Especially not now.”
“What do you mean?”
Silvio held up his phone. “Dimitri and Luiz apparently didn’t enjoy their lunch all that much. They are spreading some rather nasty rumors about how you tried to kill them on the riverboat. Add that to what happened at the botanical gardens yesterday, and, well, some of the bosses are questioning your intentions again.”
I massaged my temples. There wasn’t enough aspirin in the world for all the headaches the Ashland underworld caused me. I’d never thought of myself as a masochist before, but I must be, deep down inside. That was the only reason I could think of for things to just keep getting worse and worse, no matter how hard I tried to make them better.
“What do you suggest?” I asked.
Silvio shrugged. “You’ll have to set up another meeting with Dimitri and Luiz and decide who gets the coin laundries. Schmooze them, allay their fears, the whole shebang. That’s the only way to quiet the rumblings. For now.”
I sighed, knowing that I was beaten. “All right. Call their people, and set it up.”
“Are you sure, Gin?” Owen asked. “You want to focus on that instead of Lorelei?”
I shook my head again, more emphatically this time, despite the fact that it increased the shooting pains in my temples. “Lorelei’s a big girl. She can take care of herself. I have enough headaches right now.”
* * *
Owen and Finn left to go back to their respective offices, while Silvio moved over to a booth to start making calls. The rest of the day passed quietly. No one tried to kill me, and no more mobsters came into the Pork Pit to eat and glower at me. I was grateful that it was a relatively slow day.
Bria and Xavier stopped by at around five to eat dinner, but they didn’t have anything new to report on the garden party bombing. The waitress who’d given Mallory the jewelry box had had no idea there was a bomb inside. Pike had approached her outside the Rose Garden and said that he had a special delivery for Mallory, which was all the waitress knew.
The po-po were looking for Pike, but Bria said that there hadn’t been any sign of him. The tension in her voice told me that she didn’t expect the cops to find him either. Pike was smart enough to build bombs with his metal magic. Using a fake ID and avoiding the police would be child’s play. Besides, it wasn’t like any of the cops besides Bria and Xavier would look all that hard for him. Not without some serious financial incentive.
After Bria and Xavier left, I closed down the restaurant early and sent the staff home for the night, along with Sophia and Catalina. I shooed Silvio home too, despite his protests that he should stay by my side on the off chance that somebody spotted Pike.
I turned off the appliances, put all the extra food away, and spent an hour washing dishes, wiping down tables, and straightening up to get the restaurant ready to open again in the morning. Normally, the familiar motions would have marked the end of another busy day and a quiet time to rest, relax, and recharge.
Not tonight.
Because I still couldn’t stop thinking about Lorelei.
I finished my chores, left the restaurant, and walked over to my car a couple of blocks away, checking it for rune traps and bombs. But there were no explosives on the vehicle, so I got in and drove home.
I checked the woods, the yard, and all the doors and windows, but no one had been near the house all day. Good. I didn’t feel like dealing with any would-be assassins tonight. Or, worse, some mobster who wanted to whine to me in person about something.
I stepped inside, toed off my boots, and headed back to the kitchen. I didn’t feel like making anything complicated, so I put together a Southwestern salad of shredded barbecue chicken, black beans, diced tomatoes, and other veggies, along with several slices of Sophia’s sourdough bread, toasted and topped with tangy melted parmesan and mozzarella cheese. A glass of blackberry lemonade and some chocolate chip cookies completed my meal. Chocolate chip cookies always made everything better.
I put my food on a tray and took it into the den, determined to enjoy my dinner. I set my tray down on the coffee table and arranged everything just the way I liked it. Lemonade and silverware on the right, salad in the middle, toast and cookies off to the left, napkin draped across my lap. Then I leaned over, reaching for the remote.
Lorelei Parker’s face stared up at me.
I’d forgotten that I’d dropped her photo and Fletcher’s file onto the table when I’d come home from the garden party yesterday. My hand hovered in the air above Lorelei’s bruised, battered face.
“You again,” I muttered.
I nudged the photo aside with my index finger, picked up the remote, and turned on the TV. I found one of my favorite superhero movies and settled in to watch all the caped crusaders and their daring escapades while I ate.
All the while, though, I kept looking at that photo of Lorelei.
She looked so young in the picture, so wounded, vulnerable, frightened. But she wasn’t the same person, the same innocent girl she’d been back then, any more than I was. Lorelei had clawed her way up through the underworld ranks, and she had stayed there by being cold, hard, and ruthless. Just as I’d become an assassin and survived the same way. Lorelei and I had both killed our fair share of people for money, revenge, survival, and more. When it came right down to it, we were almost mirror images of each other.
Murdered parents. Check. Criminal mentors. Check. Criminals ourselves. Double check.
Lore
lei didn’t need my help any more than I needed hers to solve my problems. I should stick with what I’d told Mallory and the guys at the Pork Pit. I should stay out of things and let Lorelei and Raymond settle their family feud by themselves.
But I’d be damned if I could do that.
I’d never denied all the bad things I’d done, and I’d especially never let someone else take the blame for them. Fletcher had taught me better than that. But that’s exactly what I’d be doing if I didn’t at least try to help Lorelei, if I left her at the mercy of her brother when I was the one he should have been targeting all along.
I looked at that photo of Lorelei a final time. Then I grabbed my dirty dishes, took them into the kitchen, and set them in the sink. I’d have to wash them later.
Right now, I had a metal man to find and kill.
21
I went upstairs, stripped off my clothes, and put on my gear for the night. Black boots, black jeans, and a long-sleeved black T-shirt topped with a black vest lined with silverstone.
Wearing the vest was a calculated risk, but I was hoping that it would absorb whatever magic Pike might throw at me, instead of giving him a tool for his metal magic. I left my silverstone spider rune ring on my right index finger and the matching necklace around my throat. More risks, but I didn’t know how much raw power Pike might have, and it would be better to have the reserves of Ice and Stone magic stored in my jewelry than not.
Then came the most important question: whether or not to wear my knives.
I held up one of the blades. The silverstone glinted under the lights, with my rune stamped in the hilt almost looking like a real spider perched on the metal. Pike had already demonstrated that he could disarm me, but I decided to take my usual set of knives anyway. I’d just have to kill him before he got a chance to use his magic on my weapons. Simple as that.
I packed up a few more things I might need, then headed out.
Bria, Xavier, and the cops hadn’t been able to find Pike, and neither had Finn or Silvio, but I knew exactly where he would be: wherever Lorelei was.
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