Black Widow

by Jennifer Estep

  Once I was satisfied that everyone was where they should be, I strolled into the ballroom and grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. He gave me a bored, disinterested look and moved on to the next person. Then again, I wasn’t wearing an evening gown cut down and slit up to there or dripping with jewels. In fact, I didn’t look at all like myself. Oh, the black pantsuit was a classier version of my regular clothes, but Jo-Jo had rimmed my eyes with smoky-black shadow and added a dark plum gloss to my lips. Add to that the red wig and black glasses, and I looked far more sophisticated and polished than usual. Now I had to hope that no one would recognize me until I wanted them to.

  I kept to the perimeter of the crowd, drifting from one group of people to the next, all of whom were more interested in gossiping than keeping an eye on their surroundings.

  “I wonder what Madeline wants.”

  “Can you believe that she killed Blanco?”

  “And I hear that she has acid magic too. . . .”

  The rumors went on and on, as folks speculated about how harshly their new queen was going to rule them.

  Finally, the chandeliers darkened, until the strands of lights winding through the orchids along the staircase were the only ones still glowing. Someone in the orchestra started a low, rolling drumbeat. A spotlight illuminated the top and center of the staircase on the second floor, and Madeline made her grand entrance.

  She wore a white velvet gown that draped around her figure just so, and her thick auburn hair lay in loose waves on top of her creamy shoulders. The slender straps on the gown glittered with gold crystals, while the deep V in the center plummeted down into the swelling valley of her breasts. But I focused on the necklace that glimmered around her throat, along with the matching ring on her finger. They were the same gold versions of her crown-and-flame jewelry that she’d worn to my funeral.

  The thick gold chain resembled a snake draped around Madeline’s slender neck, with the emerald in the center of the crown its evil eye. The pendant looked so much like Mab’s ruby sunburst necklace that I had to blink to remind myself that it wasn’t. I’d destroyed that necklace and the woman attached to it—just like I was going to destroy this Monroe too.

  Now that I’d seen Madeline for myself, I pulled out my phone and sent a final text to all my friends. We’re a go.

  Madeline paused at the top of the stairs, letting everyone get a good, long look at her. This was her moment, the one she’d planned and plotted and schemed so long for, and she was determined to savor it.

  What she didn’t realize was that this was my moment too, the one in which my enemy was completely unaware, and I was going to treasure it just as much as she did hers.

  Madeline smiled into the spotlight, her white teeth providing a stark, blinding contrast against her crimson lips. Then the spotlight clicked off, and the rest of the lights brightened again as she glided down the stairs. Appreciative murmurs sprang up in her wake, and even I could admit that she was the picture of beauty on the outside—and completely black, brittle, and rotten on the inside.

  Just like me.

  Madeline reached the bottom of the stairs and started working her way through the crowd, smiling, shaking hands, and generally making all the underworld lords and ladies feel as welcome as they could be in the heart of enemy territory. I melted back into the shadows a little more, and so did the rest of my friends. According to Silvio, Madeline had some sort of speech planned, and I wanted to hear what she had to say.

  As Madeline moved from one cluster of people to the next, and it became apparent that she wasn’t going to massacre everyone on sight, the crowd relaxed a bit, at least enough to turn their attention back to their champagne and hors d’oeuvres. Apparently, the thought of being in mortal danger was enough to give most folks the munchies.

  It took Madeline about thirty minutes to make a circuit of the room and talk to all the top-tier crime bosses. As she was making her rounds, Emery walked down the staircase and entered the ballroom as well, along with Jonah.

  The giant did the responsible thing, going around and checking in with some of the waiters-slash-guards, probably looking for folks who were already drunk and might be potential troublemakers. I held my breath, wondering if Emery might leave the ballroom and check in with the giants who were supposed to be patrolling the rest of the mansion. But after making a much quicker circuit than Madeline was, Emery headed to the bar and got a Scotch, which she sipped with slow, obvious relish. Apparently, it was enough for her peace of mind that the ballroom was secure and that there weren’t any problems so far. Even with my wig and glasses, I didn’t want to tempt fate, so I made sure to stay out of her line of sight.

  The only one who didn’t seem to be having a good time was Jonah. He went to the bar and started ordering doubles like there was no tomorrow. Maybe there wasn’t going to be, for him. He managed to down three drinks before Emery gave him a cold glare that had him scurrying off to stand in front of the terrace doors, an island of worry in a sea of tension. Jonah kept smoothing down his tie, and I could see the stains from the sweat on his palm that was soaking into the silk.

  Now that Madeline had won the crown as the queen of Ashland, she would have little use for Jonah, something that he seemed to realize, since he was eyeing the doors as though he was thinking about slipping out of them and disappearing into the night. That would have been the wisest course of action for him. Actually, leaving Ashland the second that I’d killed Mab was what he should have done. But Jonah might live through this yet. Madeline was my main concern tonight—not him.

  Finally, the acid elemental finished with her grand tour. She whispered something to Emery, who nodded. The giant handed Madeline a flute of champagne and then stepped back. Madeline moved to the center of the dance floor and waited while the giants passed out fresh glasses of champagne. When everyone had a drink in hand, the orchestra stopped playing, and a hush slowly fell over the crowd.

  Madeline smiled and raised her glass high. “Cheers,” she called out, her smooth, silky voice ringing through the entire ballroom.

  “Cheers,” everyone echoed back to her.

  Madeline took a sip of her champagne, but most of the other folks gulped down the golden bubbly in one long, nervous swallow. Everyone knew that the most dangerous part of the evening was beginning.

  Madeline waited until the giants had moved through the crowd again, refreshing the many drinks that needed it, before she spoke again.

  “I’m sure many of you are curious as to the reason I asked you all here tonight.”

  Murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd. Everyone wanted to know why they’d been summoned, and judging by the nervous glances they were shooting each other, they were all wondering which of their enemies might already have made a deal with Madeline and what it might mean for them.

  “Tonight is the beginning of a new era in Ashland,” she said. “And yet, also a return to the old ways.”

  More murmurs, the tone a bit more speculative this time. Old ways could be good or bad, depending on your point of view.

  “All of you knew my mother,” Madeline said. “Many of you worked for her, or paid her to let you go about your business. And for years, the system worked, and everyone got rich. Until one woman came along—Gin Blanco.”

  This time, the murmurs degenerated into ugly mutters, curses, and sneers. I knew that I hadn’t exactly been beloved, but I hadn’t expected quite this level of hate. I should have, though. Given how many people here had tried to kill me.

  “Blanco thumbed her nose at my mother and killed her men. And for what? To add yet another sad, sordid chapter to an old family feud that Mab had forgotten about years ago.”

  My eyebrows shot up at the ringing conviction in Madeline’s voice. Mab hadn’t forgotten about the Snow family and the daughter who would supposedly grow up to kill her one day. It had always been lurking there, in the back of her mind. And when she found out that Bria was still alive, she’d gone after my sister wit
h everything she had, thinking that Bria was the one who had both Ice and Stone magic, instead of me.

  But Madeline was twisting the truth around, making me look like more of a villain than I already was. My fingers clenched around my champagne flute, causing the glass to creak. Any tighter, and I’d break it with my bare hand. But I didn’t need the attention that would bring. Not yet. So I forced myself to rein in my temper and listen to Madeline’s version of a bedtime story, as full of lies as it was.

  “But Blanco hadn’t forgotten about the feud, and she set about terrorizing my mother.” Madeline pressed her hand to her heart. “And then Blanco stabbed my mother to death. This woman, this assassin, killed my mother. You don’t know the pain that caused me, that it still causes me.”

  Madeline dabbed her finger against the corner of her right eye, as though she were holding back a tear. Please. She had cared even less about her dead mama than I did. At least I’d always respected Mab as a powerful, dangerous enemy. I doubted that Madeline had had even that much regard for her.

  “Now, many of you were as outraged by my mother’s death as I was,” Madeline continued, when she’d seemingly gotten control of her emotions again. “You, her business partners, her friends and confidants, you were the ones who rose up against Blanco and tried to avenge my mother’s death.”

  This time, I couldn’t hold back the snort of derision that escaped my lips. But luckily, everyone else around me was too focused on Madeline and her sob story to realize that I wasn’t as enraptured as they were.

  “But Blanco was a cunning enemy, a powerful elemental, and many of you lost friends and family to her. Brothers and sisters in arms.”

  Friends and family? Please. What she really meant were the disposable minions the bosses had sent after me, since none of them had had the balls to come down to the Pork Pit and actually face me themselves.

  “Still, even though you all suffered great losses, you kept trying to eliminate Blanco. And for that, I thank you.”

  She bowed her head for a moment, and everyone leaned forward a little more, completely captivated.

  “I was away at the time of my mother’s death,” Madeline said. “Regrettably, my mother and I were not as close as I would have liked. There were also some other matters that delayed my return to Ashland.”

  Her green eyes slid in Jonah’s direction, and he swallowed and clutched his tie again, as if it were strangling him. The cloth couldn’t do that, but I imagined that Emery would soon enough, with Madeline gleefully watching.

  “I’d heard the rumors about Blanco, but I have to admit that I didn’t believe them,” Madeline continued. “How could one woman be responsible for so many needless deaths? For spreading so much fear and terror among you all? It seemed incomprehensible, given what I know of the people of Ashland. How brave you are, how strong, how determined.”

  If she kept this up, I was going to double over with laughter and give myself away. I’d wanted to hear what Madeline had to say, but I’d never thought that she’d bother to tell such outrageous lies. Not to these people who had already realized that she was a younger, stronger, more ruthless version of Mab. Not when they knew that the real reason they’d been called here tonight was so that she could tell them in person just how much she was going to tighten her grip around their throats while her other hand dipped into their wallets and took as much of their money as she could grab.

  “When I saw how Blanco was terrorizing you, my heart was heavy. I didn’t want to take her on. I’m just a businesswoman, the same as everyone else here. But it became apparent that Blanco was determined to continue with our family feud and her reign of terror throughout Ashland. And I knew that my mother would want me to avenge her, and all of you as well.”

  Madeline straightened up to her full height. “So I set about planning how to take Blanco down once and for all. And not just her, but everyone who ever helped her murder one of us.”

  Murmurs of agreement and appreciation surged through the crowd, louder than before. They were hanging on to her every word.

  “But unlike Blanco, who used the shadows and her knives to terrorize, I decided to do things the right way, through legal means.”

  That whopper finally caused a few disbelieving titters to sound, since legal wasn’t a concept that many folks in the ballroom were acquainted with, much less embraced. But a cold glare from Emery silenced the snickering rebels.

  “Some of you helped me,” Madeline said. “And for that, you have my thanks.”

  She bowed her head, and several folks puffed up a little taller. Some of them I recognized as people Fletcher had files on in his office, but I made note of all the others too. Silvio was discreetly angling his phone and snapping photos of them, just as I’d asked him to. I’d need the information later on. It wouldn’t do me any good to take out Madeline only to have to worry about all the people who’d been loyal to her. Across the room, Bria’s expression twisted with disgust as she realized how many cops were here.

  “But in the end, Blanco was the instrument of her own destruction,” Madeline continued. “Rather than face justice for her many crimes, she barricaded herself in her own rattrap restaurant and then burned the place down. As far as I’m concerned, she couldn’t have met a better, more poetic end.”

  Satisfaction surged through Madeline’s voice, and it matched the growing buoyant mood in the ballroom. Yes, yes, everyone was glad that I was finally dead. I grinned. Which was going to make it all the more fun to see their horror when they realized that I was still alive.

  Still, it surprised me that Madeline wasn’t taking outright credit for my death. Then again, she didn’t need to. Everyone knew that she’d orchestrated the whole thing, right down to starting the fire at the Pork Pit, and I had no doubt that these people both feared and respected her for it. Now here she was, weaving her web over the whole lot of them. They wouldn’t even realize that they were trapped in the tangled threads until it was too late.

  “So Blanco is finally dead, and I say good riddance.” Madeline raised her glass again.

  More murmurs of agreement sounded, with more than a few muttering, I’ll drink to that. Tough crowd here tonight.

  “With our number one enemy dead, I say that we return to the old ways,” Madeline said. “Because we are Ashland, we are the people who haunt its darkest corners, we are the people who meet the deviant demands and dark desires of the so-called good citizens of our fair city. We’re the ones they always turn to in the end, no matter how desperate they are to keep all their secret vices hidden.”

  She glanced around the room, judging the response to her speech, but everyone was still hanging on to her every word, so she continued with her sales pitch.

  “So I say that we take what we want, what we had back when my mother was still alive. Who’s with me?”

  This time, loud, enthusiastic cheers erupted from the crowd, and everyone raised their champagne glasses high again. A few hoots and hollers broke out, which Madeline encouraged with a benevolent smile. Oh, yes. She was a slippery one. Mab would just have stormed into the room, said that she’d murdered me, and that it would be business as usual, with everyone bowing down to and paying tribute to her right then and there. She would probably have already ordered everyone to get out of her mansion so she could enjoy the spoils of her victory in peace.

  But Madeline . . . she wanted to be liked, as well as feared. It was almost as if she had some desperate need deep down inside to bend people to her will without their even realizing that they were kneeling down in front of her. I wondered if it was because she truly delighted in such cruel mind games or that she wanted to be the exact opposite of Mab and make her own scorched mark on Ashland.

  “But of course,” Madeline continued when the cheers had died down, “this is a business venture like any other. And we all know that any business needs one thing above all others to succeed—a strong leader.”

  This time, the murmurs were more speculative than happy. This was t
he heart of Madeline’s speech, the thing that would impact every single person here, and they all knew it. She had her hand around their throats, and now all that was left was to see how hard she was going to squeeze. I was willing to bet that it was going to be a death grip.

  “I think that we can all agree that I am going to be that leader.” She paused. “And for my services in that capacity, each one of you will pay me forty percent of everything you earn.”

  I almost choked on my champagne, and I wasn’t the only one. Forty percent? As far as tribute went, that was outrageous. Even Mab had never dared to demand that much. Madeline didn’t just want to be queen. She wanted to own everyone and everything in the entire city.

  For the first time, I wondered if her ambition extended beyond Ashland. If one city wasn’t enough for her. If this was just going to be her staging area for bigger and better things, maybe even for a move against someone else, some other boss, although I had no idea who else might be out there for her to conquer next.

  Still, as shocking as it was, Madeline’s pronouncement was met with uneasy but agreeing silence—at first.

  Everyone in the ballroom looked back and forth at each other, thinking furiously. They didn’t like an outsider coming in and taking over, especially not at a hefty forty percent, but they didn’t want one of their enemies to do it either.

  But finally, someone stepped forward to protest. Don Montoya ran a series of sports and other bookies out in the suburbs. He was tall, fit, and handsome, with bronze skin and a shiny black pompadour that made him look like a middle-aged Elvis. “And why should we let you just waltz into town and take over?” he demanded.

  Madeline’s eyes glittered like chips of green ice in her beautiful face. “Because I did what none of you could—I killed Blanco. That earns me the right to be the boss.”