“Gin,” Deirdre said, smiling widely. “It’s so lovely to finally meet you, honey. I’ve heard so much about you.” She gave my hand a friendly little squeeze.
I squeezed back, although all I really wanted to do was yank my hand out of hers and try to rub some warmth and feeling back into my numb fingers.
“I just bet you have,” I drawled. “Although Finn hasn’t told me nearly enough about you. I’ll have to get him to rectify that, since the two of you have become such good friends these past few weeks.”
Deirdre’s hand tightened around mine, and she frowned, the faint lines around her eyes crinkling a little deeper as she tried to figure out what I meant. After a moment, she shook off her confusion and finally released my fingers. I bit my tongue to keep from hissing in relief.
Finn looked back and forth between the two of us, also wondering at my strange words. But he charged right on past the awkwardness and gestured to a man sitting at the bar, on the stool next to Deirdre’s.
“And this is Hugh Tucker, Deirdre’s personal assistant,” Finn said.
Tucker was a tall, wiry man in a black suit jacket with a dark gray shirt and tie underneath. His skin was a rich bronze, while his hair and eyes were midnight-black. A trimmed goatee clung to his chin. I would put his age close to Deirdre’s, around fifty or so, but the years had been as kind to him as they had been to her, and he could easily pass for someone ten years younger.
Despite his distinguished air, he was as subdued and forgettable as Deirdre was boisterous and flashy, although his understated diamond cuff links had definitely cost a pretty penny. No magic emanated from him, but fangs flashed in his mouth as he tossed back the rest of his Scotch. So he was a vampire, then.
Tucker slid off his stool and nodded politely at all of us, but he didn’t step forward, and he didn’t offer to shake anyone’s hand. Instead, he gave us all a bored, disinterested glance, as if he could care less about who we were. Not what I would expect from an assistant. If Silvio were here, he would have been examining Tucker and whoever else might be in Deirdre’s entourage to make sure they weren’t a threat to me and our friends. Before doing multiple background checks just to make sure.
What Tucker did seem interested in was all the other folks here. His black gaze flicked around the lobby, coolly assessing each person in turn. Maybe it was her dazzling diamonds, but he kept glancing over at Mallory Parker. At least until Lorelei noticed his attention and stared back at him, wondering who he was and what he was up to.
Tucker arched an eyebrow, as if he was amused by Lorelei’s dirty looks, then turned around, flagged down a passing waiter, and got a refill on his drink.
“Well, I should let you talk to your friends,” Deirdre said. “I’ll see you here tomorrow morning as scheduled, yes? And we’ll go over the final details for the exhibit?”
My eyes narrowed. Exhibit? What exhibit?
“Of course. I’m always happy to meet with my favorite client.”
Finn winked, then grabbed his mother’s hand, bowed low, and pressed a kiss to her knuckles, as gallant as any knight. He wasn’t an elemental, so he couldn’t sense her Ice magic. I forced down a shudder at how long his skin touched hers.
Deirdre grabbed her red beaded clutch off the bar, then playfully tapped Finn on the shoulder with it. “Oh, you flatterer. You certainly know how to dazzle this ole gal, don’t you? Why, I bet you’re the most charming man in three counties.”
Finn grinned. “But of course.”
Deirdre looked at Tucker, and the two of them started to walk away, but I stepped up and blocked their path.
“Actually, why don’t you and Tucker join us for dinner at Underwood’s tonight? My treat. After all, any friend of Finn’s is a friend of mine.”
I kept my voice smooth and my features schooled into a polite mask, but Deirdre’s forehead wrinkled, as if she was wondering whether I knew who she really was. Apparently, she wanted to find out, because a pleased smile brightened her face. “Why, nothing would give me greater pleasure, honey,” she cooed in a syrupy-sweet tone. “I’ve just been dying to meet all of Finnegan’s wonderful friends.”
“Family,” I corrected. “Finn and I are family.”
“Mmm. Yes. Family.”
We stared at each other. My face remained smooth and blank, but Deirdre tilted her head to the side, her gray-blue eyes sharpening with interest. She was wondering what I really wanted with her. I didn’t quite know myself. All I knew was that Deirdre Shaw was right fucking here, and I wanted to know every single thing about her—including what game she was playing with Finn.
“Well, then, that’s settled,” Finn chirped, either oblivious to or ignoring the tension between us. “Let me just take a quick lap around the room to say good-bye to some folks, and then we can head out—”
Crack!
Crack! Crack!
Crack!
The noises were faint and muffled, no louder than glasses breaking against the floor, but I still recognized the sounds of gunfire. Owen, Finn, and Bria did too, and the four of us whirled around, turning toward the front of the lobby.
The doors slammed open, and several men ran inside, each clutching a gun.
6
The gunmen stormed into the lobby, firing their weapons into the air.
Crack!
Crack! Crack!
Crack!
Bullets zinged skyward, punching into the chandeliers and shattering the crystals. The lights flickered, sharp shards rained down, and screams, shrieks, and shouts filled the air as people dived for cover under the tables and chairs scattered around the lobby. The bartenders ducked down behind the tellers’ counter, while the waiters hit the floor, dropping trays of food and drinks and causing even more loud crashes and bangs to ring out. In an instant, the elegant scene had disintegrated into complete chaos.
Finn grabbed Bria and forced her down to the floor, even though my sister was cursing and trying to yank her gun out of her purse the whole time. Owen did the same to me. Deirdre dropped to the floor beside me, with Tucker on her other side.
The gunfire seemed to go on forever, although it couldn’t have lasted more than thirty seconds. Finally, the crack-crack-cracks faded away. People stopped screaming, and a tense, heavy silence descended over the lobby.
“This is a robbery!” the lead gunman yelled. “Nobody moves and nobody dies!”
Everyone did as he demanded and stayed completely still as the other gunmen spread out through the lobby. There were six of them, all wearing black clothes and ski masks and all regular-sized men.
The lead gunman, however, was a giant, although his seven-foot frame was lean and lanky instead of thick and bulky like most giants. He swiveled to the side, turning toward me, and I realized that he had pushed up the sleeves of his black shirt, revealing a rune tattoo on his left forearm. I was huddled on my knees, so I raised my head and inched to my left, trying to get a better view. His tattoo looked like . . . a snake wrapped around and biting into . . . something. I squinted. Maybe a snake biting into a dollar sign? Classy.
Once the giant gunman was certain that he had control of the lobby, he glanced down at his watch. I was no watch connoisseur, not like Finn was, but it was obviously expensive, given the silverstone band and blue stones ringing the face. Sapphires, maybe, or blue diamonds. My eyes narrowed. What kind of bank robber wore a watch that flashy?
“Two minutes, gentlemen. Starting now.” The giant jerked his head at the others.
Three of the robbers stepped forward, reached into their pockets, and pulled out black garbage bags, which they snapped open. The other three robbers remained spread out through the lobby, their guns sweeping back and forth over the crowd, ready to cut down anyone who thought about playing hero.
“Now, be good little girls and boys, and hand over your jewelry, watches, phones, and wallets,” the giant growled, “and we’ll be out of here before your fancy snacks get too cold.”
He laughed, but it was a harsh, mockin
g sound. He paused, then raised his gun and fired off another few shots into the ceiling, just because he could. Almost everyone screamed and ducked down a little more, which made him laugh even louder. The giant might claim that he didn’t want any trouble, but he wouldn’t be upset by any either. We’d be lucky if he and his crew left without killing anyone.
The giant was only about ten feet away from me, so I could easily use my Stone magic to harden my skin, then leap to my feet, sprint forward, and tackle him. But he might get off a shot or two before I reached him, killing someone in the crowd, and the rest of the robbers were too far away for me to take down—yet.
I looked at Bria, who shook her head. Owen and Finn shook their heads too, all of us realizing that we’d have to bide our time. Or, at worst, let the robbers escape and go after them later.
The giant checked his watch again. “Sixty seconds, gentlemen!”
The three robbers moved through the lobby quickly and efficiently to collect the partygoers’ valuables. None of them so much as glanced at the three cash cages behind the tellers’ counter. The robbers must have realized that someone was sure to have seen them shoot the bank guards outside and storm in here, which meant that they didn’t have time to crack open the cages before the cops arrived. Trying would only get them caught.
“Thirty seconds, gentlemen!”
This was a well-trained, professional crew, not some smash-and-grabbers who’d gotten above their raisings, as Jo-Jo might say. They knew exactly what they were doing. Which made me all the more curious about why they would rob First Trust, especially on this particular night.
Sure, the jewelry, phones, and watches would be a nice haul but hard to unload. Besides, if you were planning a robbery, why not hit the bank during the day and grab as much cash as possible from the tellers and cages? Or why not sneak in at night, disable the security system, and take a crack at Big Bertha, the basement vault?
Cold, hard cash was much easier to spend than trash bags full of rings, watches, and necklaces. If they’d wanted maximum profit for minimum risk, the robbers should have come up with another plan—a better plan.
Finn often claimed that I was the most paranoid person ever. He might have been right about that, but I couldn’t help but think that the robbery had everything to do with Deirdre Shaw.
She showed up in Ashland after being gone for decades, weaseled her way into Finn’s life under false pretenses, and managed to get an invite to tonight’s party—a party that was ruined by robbers an hour after it started. Those were a whole lot of coincidences, even though I couldn’t see how setting up this sort of small-time score would benefit her at all.
I looked at Deirdre, but she was on her knees, her arms wrapped around her chest, staring down at the floor. She didn’t seem scared, not like other folks who were trembling, crying, and shaking, but she wasn’t making eye contact with the robbers either, like some of the underworld bosses were. Those fools were glaring at the robbers and practically daring the men to shoot them.
And more than a few of the underworld bosses were also staring at me, expecting me to do something, expecting me to rise up and save them and their baubles. If it had just been me in the lobby, I would have been happy to unleash the wrath of the Spider, confront the robbers, and kill every single one of them. But there were far too many innocent people here for me to take out the robbers without some collateral damage, something I tried to avoid at all costs.
Until one of the robbers yanked Bria to her feet.
“Hey, hey, pretty lady,” the robber crooned, pressing his body up against hers. “Why don’t you be a doll and take off your shiny necklace?”
Bria glared at the robber, not responding to his taunts, although her fingers twitched, as if she was thinking about blasting him in the face with her Ice magic.
“I said take off the bling, bitch,” he growled, twisting her arm up and behind her back and dragging her even closer.
Finn surged to his feet. “Get your hands off her!” he hissed, shoving the robber away from Bria.
The robber stumbled back a few feet and stopped. Beneath his black ski mask, his dark eyes narrowed, and his lips twisted with rage. I knew that look all too well. The robber wasn’t going to be happy with just taking Bria’s necklace. Not after Finn had challenged him.
So I scrambled to my feet, putting myself between Finn and the robber. Owen got up too. So did Deirdre, although Tucker remained sitting on the floor, staring up at the gunmen instead of trying to help his boss. Some assistant.
The robber looked back and forth at all of us, before tossing aside his bag of loot and snapping up his gun. “What do you think you’re doing? Get your asses back down on the floor! Now!”
Everyone froze, even the other robbers, and all eyes focused on us.
I stepped up so that I was right in front of him, with his gun pointed straight at my heart. “You’re making a big mistake, pal. You have no idea who you’re jacking.”
“Listen up, bitch,” he growled again. “Unless you’re Gin Blanco herself, then I don’t give a fuck who you are. And I especially don’t care how important you think you are.”
A cold smile curved my lips. “Why, sugar, you said the magic words. Because I do, in fact, happen to be Gin Blanco. And if you know anything at all about me, then you know that you’ve just gotten yourself into a whole heap of trouble.”
The robber snorted. He didn’t believe me any more than the grave robbers had. But I kept staring at him, my face as hard as marble, my gray eyes glinting with deadly intent, my fingers curling into tight fists. Whispers rippled through the crowd, confirming my claim.
Confusion filled the robber’s eyes, along with the realization that I was telling the truth, and his anger quickly melted into a horror that I found quite satisfying. Everyone might not know me on sight, but they at least knew my fucking name—and the death that came along with it.
“Oh, shit,” he whispered. “Shit, shit, shit!”
“Yeah,” I drawled. “That about sums it up.”
Desperate, the robber glanced over his shoulder at the giant gunman for help.
But I didn’t give him the chance to get any advice.
The second the robber turned his head, I stepped up, punched him in the throat, and yanked his gun out of his hand. I tossed the weapon over to Finn, who easily caught it and aimed it at the next-closest robber, while I palmed one of the silverstone knives tucked up my dress sleeves.
The robber I’d punched tried to stagger away, but I grabbed his arm, spun him around, and pulled him up against my own body, using him as a human shield, even as I jabbed my knife against his throat.
“If I were you, bitch,” I hissed in his ear, “I wouldn’t move. Unless you want the closest and last shave of your miserable life.”
The robber started to nod but stopped as the blade dug into his skin. Once I was sure that he wasn’t going to do anything stupid, I looked out over the lobby. The other five robbers had their guns trained on me, except for the giant leader, whose weapon was pointed at Finn. Weird. Sure, Finn had a gun, but you’d think that the giant would be targeting me, since I was the one with the knife at his guy’s throat. Maybe there truly was no honor among thieves.
My stomach clenched at Finn being in the line of fire, but I didn’t let any of my worry show. Instead, I fixed my gaze on the leader. “I’ll give you a choice. You and your men drop your weapons, and I’ll let the cops deal with you.”
The giant narrowed his eyes. “Or?”
I smiled again, my expression even colder than before. “Or you can be an idiot and try to fight your way out of here. A few of you might even make it. But you won’t be breathing for long, since I will make it my mission to track you down and end you myself. Now, you seem to be a fan of precision timing, so you have ten seconds to think it over.”
The giant’s mouth flattened out into a harsh line. He didn’t want to give in to my demands. He couldn’t, not without looking weak in front of his own crew. B
ut he didn’t seem overly concerned by my threats either. No anger sparked in his dark brown eyes, no fear either, just cold calculation as he tried to think about the best way to get out of here.
All the while, I kept waiting for his gaze to skitter sideways, to lock with Deirdre’s, and get some silent order from her.
But it didn’t happen.
The giant kept his focus squarely on me, and he didn’t so much as glance at Deirdre, Tucker, or anyone else. Unease crawled up my spine. Could I be wrong? Could Deirdre be innocent of planning the robbery? Could she be just another rich target, like everyone else?
“Five seconds,” I called out. “Lay down your guns right now.”
The giant’s ski mask rode up on his face, as though he’d raised his eyebrows. “Or?”
I tapped my knife against the neck of the robber who was still in front of me. “Or I’m going to slit your man’s throat before I do the same thing to you.”
A collective gasp rippled through the crowd at the poison promise in my voice. The other five robbers shifted on their feet, staring at me, then at one another. Two of them decided to be smart about things, slowly bending down and setting their weapons on the floor. Those two robbers raised their hands and stepped away from the people around them, so that they were standing side-by-side near the middle of the lobby.
Those two robbers were close to Lorelei and Mallory Parker. More whispers sounded as Lorelei slowly stood up, tiptoed forward, and picked up their guns, staring at the other three robbers the whole time. But those three men didn’t know whether to shoot her or me, and they kept swiveling their guns back and forth between us.
Lorelei tiptoed back, so that she was standing in front of Mallory, shielding her from harm. Mallory took one of the guns from Lorelei, and then the two women trained their weapons on the three remaining armed robbers.
Bitter Bite Page 6
