Bitter Bite

by Jennifer Estep

  Deirdre let out a trilling laugh and waggled her finger at the other woman. “I see that the years haven’t dulled that sharp tongue of yours. Why, you’re just as charming as ever, honey.”

  Mallory slapped her hands on her hips and glared up at her. “You can spout your pretty words all you want, but I know it was you who sicced Raymond Pike on my Lorelei. I will get you for that, honey. You have my word. And unlike you, Deirdre, I always keep my word.”

  The dwarf nodded at me again, then picked up her skirt and moved over to where Lorelei was standing with Bria and Xavier. Lorelei looked at me and raised her eyebrows. I shook my head, telling her that now was not the time to talk.

  “She never did like me,” Deirdre murmured, still staring at Mallory. “Not even when Lily Rose and I were young. I have no idea why.”

  “You know exactly why,” I snapped. “She just told you. Or did you forget about that letter you wrote Raymond Pike? The one wishing him happy hunting when he came to Ashland to murder Lorelei? The one with your icicle-heart rune stamped on it?”

  She shook her head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I see that Mallory has been bad-mouthing me. Not that you need any added incentive to dislike me. Do you, Gin?”

  “None at all, sugar.”

  Deirdre’s scarlet lips turned down, and frown lines wrinkled her forehead, as though my obvious distrust greatly pained her. Even now, when it was just the two of us, she wasn’t breaking character, not even for a second. “I wish that you would give me a chance, a real chance. For Finnegan’s sake.”

  I sneered at her. “Finn’s sake is the only reason—the only reason—you’re not dead yet. You should remember that and stop whatever scheme you’ve hatched against him. Before it’s too late—for you.”

  Deirdre was completely unruffled by my threat, although her gaze slid past me for just a moment. I turned my head and saw Hugh Tucker, who was standing off by himself and checking his phone. He didn’t pay the slightest bit of attention to her, though. If Deirdre was expecting her assistant to come over and save her from me, she was going to be sorely disappointed.

  She turned her full attention back to me. “I see that Fletcher made you as paranoid as he was.” She shook her head. “For that, I am truly sorry, Gin. I didn’t come back to Ashland to hurt you. I just want to get to know my son. That’s all. But I suppose that it’s only natural for you to feel jealous and threatened by little ole me. After all, you were supposedly the only family Finnegan had left, after you got his daddy killed.”

  I gasped, more surprised than if she’d slapped me across the face. Shock, grief, and guilt surged through my body like electricity, burning every single part of me before charring my heart.

  “Finnegan told me all about it,” Deirdre continued in an innocent voice, as if she were just making conversation and not talking about one of the worst moments of my life. “How some assassin job of yours went wrong and how Fletcher ended up tortured to death inside the Pork Pit because of it. That must be a heavy, heavy burden for you to bear. No wonder you’re so protective of Finnegan. You don’t want history to repeat itself, now, do you?”

  I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t say anything. All I could think of, all I could feel, was my own failure coursing through my veins like venom, reducing everything inside me to brittle ash. Just as it had the night I’d found Fletcher’s broken body in his own restaurant.

  “But you don’t have to worry about me, Gin,” Deirdre went on, as if she couldn’t see the soul-crushing despair in my eyes. “Despite what you think, my intentions are good. All I want is to have a real relationship with Finnegan. I hope that you’ll finally give me that chance. Just think about it. Okay, honey?”

  Despite all her hurtful words, I forced myself to nod at her and not let her realize how deeply she’d wounded me. “You’re right,” I said, my voice as empty and hollow as my heart was right now. “I haven’t treated you well. I apologize. I won’t stand in the way of you and Finn. Not anymore.”

  “Oh, Gin, honey!” she squealed. “I’m so glad to finally hear you say that!”

  Before I could stop her, Deirdre swooped me up into a tight hug, her hands pressing into my back, her body plastered against mine, her peony perfume snaking down my throat, making me want to vomit. Even through the thick velvet of my gown, I could feel how cold her hands were and the elemental Ice magic pulsing through her entire body. My chest and back went numb in an instant, the cold so swift, sudden, and intense that it brought tears to my eyes.

  At least, that’s what I told myself was causing the waterworks. Not Deirdre’s words and especially not the ugly, ugly truth in them. That I was jealous of her and threatened by her. That I was the reason Finn didn’t have any family left.

  That I was the reason Fletcher was dead.

  “And what are two of my favorite ladies up to?” Finn called out, striding over to us.

  Deirdre dropped her arms, stepped back, and gave me a conspiratorial wink. “Oh, nothing special. Just some long-awaited girl talk. What about you, handsome?”

  The two of them started chatting, but I just stood there, my face frozen in a hollow smile, tears trapped in my eyes, and my gaze locked on Deirdre’s icicle-heart rune.

  Cold, broken, and jagged—just like my own heart right now.

  19

  It took the better part of two minutes for the chill of Deirdre’s Ice magic to leave my body, but her words continued to sting my heart. I mumbled an excuse to her and Finn, but they’d already turned away to talk to some other folks, and neither one of them heard me.

  Owen had finally extricated himself from his business associate, and he met me in the middle of the rotunda. He took one look at my face and frowned. “What’s wrong?”

  “Do you care if we leave now?”

  “Are you sure? I thought you wanted to keep an eye on Finn.”

  I looked over at Finn, who was still standing by Deirdre’s side, chatting with her latest round of admirers. “Don’t worry,” I said in a sad voice. “He won’t even realize that I’m gone.”

  And he didn’t.

  Owen and I stopped long enough to say good-bye to Bria and Xavier and wave to Mallory and Lorelei as we made our way toward the exit. Finn never once looked in our direction.

  On the ride back to Fletcher’s, Owen tried to get me to tell him what was bothering me, but I just didn’t have the energy to recount how Deirdre had rubbed my face in all my past mistakes and failures—and that she’d been right about every single one, especially Fletcher being dead because I hadn’t been good enough, strong enough, fast enough to save him.

  Owen offered to stay the night, but I told him I was tired and was going to bed. He kissed me, told me to call him if I wanted to talk, and left.

  I stripped off my spider gown and took a long, hot shower. We’d left the exhibit early, and it was just after nine, but I was exhausted, so I crawled into bed. I drifted to sleep almost immediately.

  The three vampires who’d been robbing Fletcher’s house crept closer and closer to me.

  The smart thing would have been to sprint back around the porch, throw open the front door, and run inside. But it wasn’t like I would have gotten all that far. Not given the logjam of kids still partying in the house. Besides, I was too angry to think straight, so I stood my ground.

  The three vamps spread out in a line across the porch in front of me.

  “Lookie here, boys,” the guy in the middle crooned. “A little girl’s come out to play with us.”

  My hands clenched into tight fists. If there was one thing I wasn’t, it was a little girl. Not anymore. Not for a long time now.

  Another vamp laughed. “Well, I say we play with her. Right, Paul?”

  Paul, the vamp in the middle, nodded. “Yep.”

  But I was still too angry—at them, at Finn, at everything—to back down. Besides, they’d be on me like a pack of hyenas the second I turned my back.

  “Leave now, and we can pretend like
this never happened,” I said. “Like you weren’t trying to rob this place.”

  Paul laughed and looked at his friends, who joined in with his chuckles.

  “What’s so funny?” I muttered.

  Paul stared at me. “You know why we like parties? Because the kids are too busy drinking, smoking, and screwing to notice who comes in the front door, much less what they take out the back with them. You’re not ruining that for us.”

  So they’d done this before. Slipped into a house during a party and walked out with whatever they could stuff into their pockets and carry away. And if the homeowners noticed that their valuables were missing, then it was just too bad, and they’d most likely chalk it up to their kids’ friends having swiped it and ground their own kids as a result.

  It was a sweet little scam. I wondered who had told them about Finn’s party. Someone had to have clued them in, especially since Fletcher’s house was out in the boonies. It wasn’t like they’d seen or heard the noise from down the street and had come to investigate. No, someone had to have tipped them off. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be here.

  But my main problem was that there were three of them and only one of me. I glanced at the windows. The other kids were still inside, just a few feet away, but the music was so loud that I doubted anyone would hear me if I screamed. Even if they did, they’d probably think somebody was just messing around and not in any real danger. Either way, none of them would come and help me.

  I’d have to take care of myself, just like always.

  So I studied the vampires. Paul, the guy in the middle, was obviously the leader, with a tall, strong body that made him the most dangerous. The other two guys were short and lean, closer to my size than his, but they were still vamps, and the blood they drank would make them stronger and quicker than me. I couldn’t let any of them get close enough to put their hands on me, much less sink their fangs into my neck. Too bad I didn’t have any of the knives Fletcher had been training me to use. In fact, there were no weapons on the porch at all, just a few small gardening tools that Fletcher had been using to clean up the yard for the coming winter.

  “You need to leave,” I repeated. “I called the cops. They’ll be here any minute.”

  For a second, worry flashed in Paul’s dark eyes, but he must have realized that I was bluffing because he grinned again. “Cops, huh? Well, then, I guess we’ll just have to be quick about our fun.” His gaze flicked up and down my body. “Or maybe we’ll just take you with us. You’re a little skinny for my tastes, but some guys like ’em just like you.”

  My anger vanished in an instant, and bile bubbled up in the back of my throat. Not only did they want to steal from Fletcher, but now they wanted to steal me too.

  I bolted.

  I turned to run, but Paul was quicker. He grabbed my ponytail and jerked me back. I used the change in momentum to ram my elbow into his stomach. He gasped and doubled over, losing his grip on me. I opened my mouth to scream, even as I surged forward again.

  But I’d forgotten about the other two guys.

  One of them caught my left arm from behind, and I smashed my foot down onto his instep. He hissed, but he didn’t let go of me. The other guy stepped up and clamped his hand on my other arm. No matter how hard I struggled, I couldn’t break free of their tight, bruising grips, so I screamed and screamed, but the blaring music swallowed up my terrified cries. No one so much as looked out a window to see what might be happening outside.

  Paul straightened up and marched over to me. He stared at me for a second, then slapped me across the face. “Bitch.”

  Pain exploded in my face, and I would have fallen back against the porch railing if not for the two vamps holding me upright.

  Paul hit me again and again, making my head snap back and forth. My lips split open, and blood filled my mouth. When he had finished with my face, he rammed his fist into my stomach, almost making me vomit on the spot. I groaned, but the thumping music once again swallowed up the sounds of my misery.

  “Get her down on the ground,” he growled. “I want to sample the goods first to see if this bitch is worth hauling back to town.”

  “And if she’s not?” one of the other vamps asked.

  Paul shrugged. “Then we’ll have our fun, take her blood, snap her neck, and throw her body into the woods. Now, hurry up, in case she really did call the cops.”

  Even though my head was spinning, I fought harder than ever before, biting, clawing, kicking, scratching. But it was no use, and the two vamps threw me down onto the porch. One of them pinned my arms down, while the other gripped my legs.

  Paul loomed over me, a smile splitting his face as he reached for his belt buckle . . .

  I woke up screaming and pounding my fists into my pillows, just as I’d tried to hit the three vamps so long ago. It took me a minute to remember that I was safe in Fletcher’s house, longer still to calm my ragged breathing and racing heart.

  But the feeling remained—that awful, awful feeling that I was all alone. That danger was closing in fast all around me.

  That no one was coming to help me.

  It was the same feeling I got whenever I looked at Deirdre. That Fletcher was gone. That she’d taken Finn away from me, and that there was nothing I could do to get him back.

  That I was all alone again.

  I knew that it wasn’t true, that it wasn’t rational, that Finn, Bria, Owen, and the rest of my friends loved me. But my worried, traitorous heart still made me feel alone and small and empty.

  And scared—so very scared.

  I lay in bed for several minutes, catching my breath and trying to get my emotions under control. But the truth was that I had been decidedly out of control ever since Deirdre waltzed into Finn’s life. I could be hard when I needed to, as cold as ice even, but Deirdre . . . she was in a league by herself. With just a few soft sentences, she’d brought all my guilt, grief, and heartache about Fletcher’s death roaring back to the surface.

  I kept waiting for her to slip up, to crack, to finally reveal her true nature to Finn and everyone else. I was the Spider, I was patience itself, but nothing I said or did so much as rattled Mama Dee. She was much better at this game we were playing. She was winning, and Finn was going to be her prize.

  And I’d be damned if I could see a way to stop her.

  * * *

  Even though it was just after eleven, I didn’t even try to go back to sleep. Not when there were more nightmares swimming around in my subconscious like sharks waiting to take another bite out of my heart. Instead of tossing and turning, I decided to get up and do something useful.

  Spy on Deirdre.

  I put on my usual black clothes, topped off with a black silverstone vest, and made sure that I had all five of my knives. Then I grabbed a duffel bag full of extra knives and other gear, threw it into my car, and drove over to the Peach Blossom. It was just after midnight when I parked my car in a lot close to Deirdre’s building. I looked up and down the street, but it was deserted at this late hour, so I got out of my car, grabbed my gear, and hurried over to the building across the street.

  This building didn’t have any external security cameras, but I still kept to the shadows as I sidled up to the side door. I looked left and right again, but no one was out and about, so I reached for my Ice magic, holding my palm close to my chest and turning my back to the street to hide the cold, silvery glow of my power. A second later, I was clutching two long, slender Ice picks, which I used to unlock the door, just as I’d done all the previous times I’d come here. I threw the Ice picks onto the ground to melt away, then slipped inside.

  The building was used for office space, so no one was creeping around this late on a Friday night, not even janitors taking out the week’s trash. I climbed to the top of the fire stairs, used another set of Ice picks to open the door there, and stepped out onto the roof.

  The Peach Blossom was roughly the same height as the building I was on, and the roof here gave me a clear, direct vie
w of Deirdre’s penthouse on the top floor. But the windows were dark, and no one moved through the shadows there. Deirdre wasn’t home yet. Not surprising. She’d be the last person to leave her swanky gala.

  So I pulled out my binoculars, a digital surveillance camera, and a directional microphone from my duffel bag. I’d thought about leaving everything here so I could record Deirdre 24-7, but I didn’t want to risk someone coming up to the roof and finding my equipment, alerting her to the fact that someone was spying on her.

  I’d just finished checking my gadgets and making sure that everything was in working order when lights winked on in the penthouse. I checked my phone. Not even one in the morning yet. Deirdre hadn’t enjoyed her night of triumph nearly as long as I’d expected.

  I turned on the microphone, set it and the camera on the ledge, and aimed them just so. Then I picked up my binoculars and peered through them at the penthouse, which took up the entire top floor. The spacious suite was largely furnished in cool whites, from the marble counters in the kitchen to the sofas in the living room to the thick carpet underfoot. Pale blue paint covered the walls, with matching pillows and chairs adding a bit more color to the rooms. The kitchen and living room were one open space, with a hall leading to two bedrooms, each with its own attached bathroom.

  Deirdre strode through the kitchen and into the living room, still wearing her sparkling silver gown, along with a scarlet silk wrap, which she pulled off and tossed onto one of the sofas, along with her silver clutch. Hugh Tucker trailed in behind her, texting on his phone.

  She eyed him a moment, then went over to the wet bar in one corner of the living room and poured herself a healthy amount of whiskey. She threw back the drink, poured herself another, and tossed it back too. She could give Mallory and her moonshine a run for their money.

  Tucker finally looked up from his phone and raised his eyebrows at her. Deirdre snorted, but then she poured drinks for both of them, even going so far as to walk across the penthouse and hand it to him.

  She kicked off her stilettos, sprawled across a sofa, and propped one foot up on the glass table in front of her. The entire sequence of moves was eerily similar to what I’d seen Finn do a hundred times before. Like it or not, he had more than a little of his mother in him.