Finally, Cooper let go of his magic.
“There,” he said, letting out a breath and wiping a sheen of sweat off his forehead. “That’s the best that I can do.”
“Will she live?” I asked in a low voice.
He kept staring at her, exhaustion and uncertainty etching deep lines into his face. “I got the bullets out, but she lost a lot of blood, and there was a lot of damage inside her that I didn’t know how to fix. That I was afraid to try to fix, in case I ended up making everything worse instead. So I don’t know. I just . . . I don’t know.”
He stepped back and staggered as his feet went out from under him. He would have fallen to the floor if Phillip hadn’t stepped forward and grabbed him. Roslyn hurried to take Cooper’s other arm, and together they led him into the den so he could sit down and rest. He’d used up all of his Air magic, all of his great dwarven strength, trying to heal Jo-Jo—and it still might not have been enough to save her.
Bria moved over and gave my arm a sympathetic squeeze before following the others into the den, leaving me alone with Jo-Jo. Well, Rosco and me. The basset hound got to his feet, walked over, and plopped down beside the table, guarding his mistress once again. Normally, the dog spent most of his time snoozing in his basket in the salon, only deigning to get up for treats and tummy rubs. I couldn’t ever remember seeing him this active. Then again, this was anything but an ordinary day.
In the den, the low murmur of voices sounded. No doubt Bria was filling Cooper and Phillip in on what had happened at the salon.
I carefully took Jo-Jo’s hand in mine. Normally, she had the softest, warmest, gentlest hands of any person I knew, but right now, her skin was cool and clammy to the touch. Still, her breathing came easily enough, her chest rising and falling in a slow but steady rhythm. I slid my fingers down against her wrist, searching for her pulse. It too was slow but steady. The tight, tense pain that had pinched her brow had vanished, and her features were slack and relaxed.
I leaned down and put my mouth close to her ear. “You rest easy, sweetheart. Because now that you’re safe, I’m going to go get Sophia back—and put Harley Grimes in the ground for good.”
I didn’t know if Jo-Jo could hear me or not, but I’d made my promise to her, and I was going to keep it, no matter what.
But I couldn’t do it standing around waiting for her to wake up. She wouldn’t want that anyway. No, she’d want me to go after Sophia as soon as I could.
So I leaned down and kissed Jo-Jo’s bloody cheek, then left her behind.
8
Rosco stayed in the kitchen with Jo-Jo while I headed into the den. Cooper was sprawled across a worn, sagging, brown-striped sofa that had seen better days. He must have run his hand through his hair again, because his salt-and-pepper locks were standing straight up over his forehead.
“She seems to be resting comfortably,” I said. “Thank you.”
Cooper nodded, and some of the tension eased out of his body, making him sink even deeper into the couch cushions. He cared about Jo-Jo too. We all did.
The patio door opened, and Roslyn stepped inside, holding a glass of iced tea. She must have poured it from the pitcher that had been left on the table outside. She handed the drink to Cooper, and he slugged it down in one long swallow. He set the glass on an end table next to his elbow and leaned back against the couch once more.
“Now what?” Phillip asked, standing in front of the TV.
“Now I go get Sophia back.”
He nodded. “Bria said Harley Grimes and Jo-Jo know each other?”
“Yeah,” I said. “He, Sophia, and Jo-Jo have a history together. If you could call it that.”
“What sort of history?” Cooper asked.
“Grimes kidnapped Sophia years ago. He beat her, tortured her with his Fire magic—including ruining her voice—and then did a whole lot of other unspeakable things to her before Jo-Jo hired Fletcher to rescue Sophia. And when Fletcher did, he made sure that Grimes knew that if he ever bothered Sophia and Jo-Jo again, he would wish he hadn’t.”
“But Fletcher’s dead,” Bria pointed out.
“I know. Grimes must have found out about his death and figured that the coast was clear. That’s why he came to the salon today, and that’s why he took Sophia again.”
No one spoke for a moment.
“I’ve heard of Grimes,” Phillip said. “Lives up on some mountain above Ashland, along with a bunch of his men.”
Phillip Kincaid was more than just a pretty face. He was also the owner of the Delta Queen riverboat casino and one of the major underworld bosses in town. So Phillip knew practically everyone who was involved in anything illegal in Ashland.
I fixed my gaze on him. “Tell me everything you know about Grimes.”
He shrugged. “Not much. Just that he lives out in the woods in some sort of camp up on Bone Mountain. Grimes and his men sell guns in and around the city, hire themselves out as muscle, things like that. Someone also told me that they even make their own moonshine, get all liquored up on it, come roaring into Ashland every once in a while, and tear shit up, despite some halfhearted attempts by the police to stop them. Only Grimes doesn’t run from the law so much as put bullets in anyone who gets too close to his camp and his operations.”
Now that Phillip mentioned them, I realized that I’d heard some of the same stories about a moonshine-swilling, gun-running gang holed up on top of one of the mountains. I just hadn’t realized that it was Grimes and his crew. The guns must have been the mysterious business that he’d been talking about earlier. The one that had been booming ever since I’d killed Mab. Yeah, I could imagine that a lot of underworld folks had bought a lot of guns in their efforts to kill one another these past few months.
Good to know, but I needed more information if I had any chance of rescuing Sophia, like exactly where this camp was. I had a feeling that I’d find all that info and more at Fletcher’s house. The old man had kept files on everyone who was up to no good in Ashland, and Harley Grimes would have been sure to be at the top of Fletcher’s watch list, given what he’d done to the Deveraux sisters all those years ago.
“Thanks for the info, Phillip. I appreciate it, but I’ll take it from here.”
I started toward the patio door, but Bria moved to block my path.
“What are you going to do now?” she asked.
I shrugged. “What I do best. Kill Grimes, Hazel, and everyone else who gets between me and Sophia.”
Bria lifted her chin. “Fine. But I’m coming with you.”
“No, you’re not.”
She slapped her hands on her hips in defiance. “Yes, I am—” Bria suddenly winced and dropped her hands to her stomach, as though she’d pulled a muscle.
My eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong with you? Are you hurt?”
She grimaced, but she didn’t answer me.
“Bria . . .”
She sighed and pulled up her T-shirt. A large, nasty, fist-shaped bruise blackened her side to the left of her belly button. “While you were chasing after Sophia, one of the guys in the salon hit me a few times before I put a couple of bullets in his chest. It’s no big deal.”
“Oh, no,” I sniped. “Probably just some cracked ribs from the looks of that.”
“I don’t think they’re cracked,” she said in a defensive voice. “They weren’t even bothering me until a few minutes ago.”
“That’s because the adrenaline hasn’t completely worn off yet. Believe me, even if they’re not cracked, they’re still going to be plenty sore soon enough. Now, come over here, and sit down.”
Bria grumbled, but she let me guide her over to a blue recliner in the corner and sank down onto it. She winced again. If that simple motion hurt, it wouldn’t be long before her bruised body stiffened up more, and she wouldn’t be able to do anything without feeling the pain of the fight.
“You’re staying here,” I said. “You’re in no condition to fight, especially not against someone like Grimes.”
Bria’s face scrunched up with mulish determination, and she opened her mouth to argue, but I cut her off.
“Please?” I asked in a soft voice. “Sophia’s already gone, and I almost lost Jo-Jo. I don’t want to lose you too.”
Her lips flattened out into a thin line, but she reluctantly nodded. That alone told me how much she was already hurting. “All right, all right,” she said. “What do you want me to do?”
“Call Finn, and tell him what happened, then stay here and watch over Jo-Jo. I don’t think that Grimes will come after her again, but I don’t know that he won’t either.”
Bria nodded, and she squeezed my hand. “Just promise me that you’ll be careful.”
I squeezed back. “I promise.”
“I’ll stay too,” Roslyn volunteered. “And I’ll call Xavier and let him know what’s going on.”
“Thank you. And I need one more favor from you.”
“Name it.”
I looked at Roslyn. “Can I borrow your car?”
She reached into her shorts pocket, pulled out her keys, and tossed them over to me. “Only if you promise to ram it over the bastard who took Sophia.”
I grinned. “Consider it done.”
I didn’t tell Roslyn that running over Harley Grimes with her car was too good, too quick, and far too merciful a death for him. Oh, no. I was going to give Mr. Grimes my personal brand of attention—Spider-style.
* * *
The others agreed to stay put, keep an eye on Jo-Jo, and hold down the fort in case Grimes or any of his men showed up at Cooper’s. It was a long shot that they would, but I hadn’t thought armed men would burst into the salon this morning either.
I headed outside, but I wasn’t alone. Phillip followed me. He matched me stride for stride as I stepped off the patio and started around the house.
“What do you want, Phillip?”
“I want to go with you.”
I stopped and gave him a flat look. “Not going to happen. Jo-Jo’s not out of the woods, Cooper’s exhausted, and Bria’s injured. Someone needs to stay here and help Roslyn with them, and that someone is going to be you.”
“And you need someone to watch your back,” Phillip countered. “Look at you. You’re a bloody mess right now. Hell, you don’t even have any shoes on.”
I glanced down, my toes curling into the soft grass. He was right. I’d been so focused on getting Jo-Jo out of the salon that I hadn’t even stopped to grab my sandals on the way out. I shrugged and started walking again.
“What do you think you’re going to do?” Phillip continued, moving with me. “Get a couple of knives, go up to Grimes’s camp, and take him out?”
“That’s exactly what I’m going to do,” I said. “Except that I’m not going to be so nice as to merely kill him. No, after I get there, I plan on carving up Harley Grimes like a Thanksgiving turkey and leaving pieces of him all over the mountain for the buzzards to find. If they can stomach the likes of him.”
Phillip didn’t bat an eye at the cold promise of violence in my voice. “I can’t say that I disapprove, but Grimes is a bad, bad guy, Gin. He’s someone that even I would think twice about taking on. I didn’t tell you half of the things I’ve heard about him.”
“Like what?”
“Well, for starters, he’s ruthless.”
“And I’m not?”
Phillip ignored my snide comment. “Grimes kills anyone who tries to cut in on his gun-running market in the slightest way. Mab herself used to get weapons for her giants from him, and even she paid what Grimes asked for them. A couple of the Southtown gangs made moves against him in the past, but he killed them all—and their family members. Mothers, sisters, brothers, cousins.” He hesitated. “Apparently, Grimes also fancies himself a ladies’ man. And if he sees a lady he likes—”
“He takes her,” I finished. “No matter who gets in his way. Yeah, I knew that already. I got a close-up view of Mr. Grimes doing that in the salon.”
Sophia! Jo-Jo! Sophia! Jo-Jo!
The Deveraux sisters’ screams echoed in my head, and the memory of Sophia hanging on to that doorframe, stretching one hand out to Jo-Jo, rose in my mind, blocking out everything else. I blinked, and the image vanished. But left in its place was my dark desire to end Harley Grimes’s miserable existence. Once again, that cold, black rage pulsed through my body, beating along like an ominous song keeping time with my heart.
I rounded the front of the house, stalked over to Roslyn’s car, and wrenched open the driver’s-side door.
“Gin?”
I turned to face Phillip. Concern darkened his blue eyes, and his golden eyebrows were drawn together, as if he was still trying to think of some way to talk me out of this. His hands were curled into fists, and I got the distinct impression that he was considering tackling me to keep me from leaving. But nothing short of death would stop me, and if I had to hurt Phillip to make my point, well, I wouldn’t like it, but I’d do it, the way I had done so many other terrible things over the years.
Phillip must have sensed my thoughts, because he made himself loosen his fists and step back, although his jaw was still clenched so tightly it made his chiseled cheekbones stand out like arrows pushing against his skin.
Phillip and I weren’t friends, not exactly, but he was trying to look out for me in his own way. So I decided to put his mind at ease—so to speak.
“You’re forgetting one thing, Phillip.”
“And what’s that?”
“Harley Grimes might be a bad, bad guy, but I happen to be a bad, bad bitch. And this bastard has hurt my family for the second time. He’s not just going to pay for that—he’s going to die for that. Believe me when I tell you that nothing you do or say is going to stop me from going up to his camp and killing anyone and anything that looks at me cross-eyed.”
Phillip’s lips pinched tight with frustration. “Well, if you won’t let me go with you, at least let me call Owen.”
“No. No way. Absolutely not. This doesn’t have anything to do with him.”
Phillip snorted. “You’re involved in it, which means that he is too. He’ll never forgive me if I let you go off and get yourself killed. He loves you, Gin. He always has, despite what happened with Salina.”
What happened was that I’d killed Owen’s ex-fiancée, Salina Dubois, even though he’d asked me not to. Of course, Salina had been trying to kill me and a whole bunch of other people at the time, but Owen had still had a hard time dealing with her death, especially since it had been at my hand. Needless to say, our relationship hadn’t exactly been a bed of roses since then.
Still, Owen and I weren’t as estranged as we had been. Since seeing each other at the Briartop museum, he’d come into the Pork Pit a few times to have lunch. We were still dancing around each other, though, still trying to figure out how or even if we could move forward. That was frustrating enough, but I didn’t want Owen involved in this.
“Gin?” Phillip asked. “Did you hear what I said?”
“Owen and Salina have nothing to do with this,” I snapped. “Jo-Jo and Sophia are my family, and nobody—no damn body—hurts my family. Ever. Even if they weren’t my family, I wouldn’t leave anyone to the likes of Harley Grimes. Not after what I saw him do this morning.”
Phillip hesitated again, like he wanted to tell me something else, but I didn’t let him.
“Look,” I said. “The best thing that you can do for me right now is see to Cooper. Make sure that he’s resting and getting his strength back. I don’t know how well his magic worked on Jo-Jo, and he might need to try to heal her again. He knows that you believe in him. That will give him more confidence that he can save Jo-Jo if she takes a turn for the worse. And I’m also asking you to believe in me. Because I didn’t earn my reputation as the Spider by chance.”
“I know,” Phillip said. “But you shouldn’t have to do it alone.”
I gave him a grim smile. “I appreciate the concern, but in the end, we’re all al
one—especially me.”
“Just . . . be careful, okay, Gin? I don’t fancy getting an ass-kicking from Owen over you.”
“Why, Philly,” I drawled, using Eva Grayson’s childhood nickname for him. “It almost sounds like you care.”
“About you?” He snorted again. “Never.”
“Good to know. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a date with the devil that just can’t wait.”
I got into Roslyn’s car, pulled the door shut, and cranked the engine. Phillip waved at me, telling me goodbye or maybe even wishing me good luck. I waved back, then hit the accelerator and raced down the driveway.
9
I drove Roslyn’s car back to Jo-Jo’s house. I would have called Finn and told him what was going on, but I’d left my cell phone at the salon, along with my knives. The first time that I could remember forgetting my weapons and leaving them behind in years.
As the miles passed, I tried to remember everything that Jo-Jo had ever told me about Grimes. It wasn’t much. He’d kidnapped Sophia, taken her to his camp, and done terrible things to her before Jo-Jo had hired Fletcher to rescue her. The old man had saved Sophia, and he and Grimes had fought to a standstill, but Fletcher hadn’t been able to finish the job and kill him. Still, Grimes had kept his distance from the Deveraux sisters since then, on the threat of death from Fletcher. End of story.
I’d definitely have to swing by Fletcher’s house and see what else I could dig up. Despite what I’d told Phillip, despite my rage and how painfully aware I was of how much Sophia was probably suffering this very second, I wasn’t going to go rushing into Grimes’s camp blind. No, I wanted to be as prepared as possible when I attacked him. I’d have to be, in order to get Sophia out of there alive.
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