Sharpest Sting: An Elemental Assassin Book

by Jennifer Estep

I held my breath, hoping that the giant would foolishly keep insulting him, but Emery must have realized that she’d pushed Tucker far enough, because she crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a wary look.

  “Well, if you think we’re secure, then I’ll take your word for it,” Tucker said in a smooth voice.

  My breath escaped in a soft, disappointed sigh. I should have known better. My luck could never, ever be that good.

  Emery’s face crinkled with suspicion, but Tucker gave her another bland look in return. She huffed, then waved her hand at her men. “Get them inside.”

  A couple of the giants kept their guns out, while the others holstered their weapons and stepped forward. One reached for Lorelei, but she jerked her arm away from him.

  “If you touch me, I will break your face,” Lorelei snarled.

  The giant’s nostrils flared with anger, and he drew back his fist, as though he was going to punch her. I started forward to put myself between Lorelei and the giant, but I didn’t have to protect her.

  Hugh Tucker did it for me.

  Quick as a blink, Tucker glided forward and caught the giant’s fist in his hand. Even though the giant was a foot taller and at least a hundred pounds heavier than Tucker, the giant was the one who abruptly stopped, as though he’d run into a cement wall, while the vampire didn’t so much as rock back on his heels.

  I’d known that Tucker was amazingly fast, but that was an impressive show of strength. He was even more dangerous than I’d realized.

  “That won’t be necessary, Nate,” Tucker said in a cool voice. “I’m sure Ms. Parker knows how tenuous her situation is. There’s no need to manhandle her as well.”

  Nate, the giant in question, glanced over at Emery, who jerked her head, telling him to let it go.

  The giant started to pull his hand away, but Tucker dug his fingers into Nate’s fist. Tucker barely seemed to be touching the giant, but the other man’s face contorted in pain, and his knuckles crack-crack-cracked one after another from the bone-crushing pressure Tucker was exerting on them.

  The vampire was letting everyone know he was not to be ignored, despite the fact that Emery was in charge—for now.

  The rest of the giants exchanged uneasy glances and shifted on their feet again. Tucker must have been satisfied he’d made his point, because he released the giant’s fist. Nate staggered back and cradled his red, puffy hand to his chest, trying to massage away the lingering sting of Tucker’s iron grip.

  “Wow,” Lorelei drawled in a sarcastic, mocking voice, breaking the tense silence. “And people say that chivalry is dead. My hero.”

  I grimaced, as did Bria. Lorelei should have known better than to antagonize the vampire, especially given what he’d just done to that giant.

  Tucker paused, as if he wasn’t sure he’d heard her right, then smoothly spun around on his wing tips to face her. Lorelei stared right back at him. Tucker’s head tilted to the side, and his eyes narrowed, as if he was truly seeing her for the very first time. Lorelei kept right on staring at him, her blue gaze rock-steady on his black one.

  Tucker’s eyes narrowed a bit more, but he didn’t appear to be angry. Perhaps it was my imagination, but the vampire almost seemed…intrigued.

  Lorelei stepped closer to Tucker. The giants tensed, as did Emery, but the vampire held up his hand, telling them to stand down.

  “Let’s get one thing straight,” Lorelei said in a cold voice. “I don’t need you or anyone else to protect me. Are we clear?”

  Tucker didn’t respond. Lorelei drew back her fist as though she was going to punch him. Once again, I started forward to do something, and once again, I didn’t have to intervene.

  Lorelei whipped around, stepped up, and punched Nate, the giant who’d tried to grab her. She slammed her fist right into his windpipe, making him cough, choke, and stagger back. Nate glared at her, anger filling his now beet-red face, but Lorelei gave him an icy glare before turning back to Tucker.

  “Are we clear?” she asked, a sharp note in her voice.

  An amused smile quirked Tucker’s lips before his features smoothed out into their usual bland mask. “Crystal.”

  Then the vampire respectfully tipped his head and held out his arm, as though he was a suave Southern gentleman about to escort a beautiful lady into a grand manor house.

  Lorelei blinked, clearly surprised by the gesture. She hesitated, but this had turned into a battle of wills, and my friend wasn’t one to back down. She stepped forward and threaded her arm through Tucker’s, once again staring into his eyes and not showing the faintest flicker of fear.

  “If you two are finished, perhaps we can get on with things,” Emery snapped in an impatient tone.

  Tucker swept his free arm out to the side in a grand, dramatic gesture. “After you, Ms. Slater.”

  Emery huffed again, then brushed past him and strode through the open doors. Tucker gestured with his free hand again, and he and Lorelei headed in that direction, the two of them still weirdly arm in arm.

  The rest of the giants clustered around Bria and me, and we had no choice but to follow them.

  * * *

  The inside of the mansion was just as I remembered from my childhood and other visits.

  Enormous foyers with hardwood floors. Tall, wide staircases lined with white-plaster banisters featuring flowers and vines. Alcoves brimming with quilts, looms, and old-fashioned sewing machines. Walls covered with gold-framed paintings showcasing Ashland landmarks, along with smaller tintypes and black-and-white portraits of citizens dressed in their Sunday best. Dining rooms filled with antique mahogany tables set with fine silver and delicate china. Old-timey hobnail lamps in the corners of those dining rooms, with crystal chandeliers dangling from the ceilings. And all of it labeled with identification cards and larger plaques explaining each item’s historical significance.

  The architecture and furnishings were as grand and fine as any in Ashland, but everything was much older here, and many of the paintings, quilts, and lamps were priceless heirlooms that had been passed down through the generations. A hushed sense of history filled the mansion, and the people in the portraits and tintypes seemed to turn their heads and glare at me, the modern, uncouth intruder who’d dared to disturb their peace and quiet. I shivered. Creepy.

  But the worst part was the stones. Now that I was inside the mansion, the rumbling purrs of pure, raw power were louder than ever, and the smug continued chorus grated on my nerves. The person we were going to see thought they had so much magic they were untouchable.

  I was worried they might be right.

  We walked through the first floor to the back of the mansion, where we climbed a grand staircase to the third level. Eventually, we wound up in front of some closed double doors at the end of a hallway. The stones’ purrs were much stronger here, indicating that the person who had caused the emotional vibrations was on the other side of the thick wood.

  Another shiver swept down my spine. I was about to come face-to-face with the dangerous lion in the center of this den.

  “Cheer up, Gin,” Tucker said, noticing my apprehension. “You’re finally getting your wish to meet the real power behind the Circle.”

  “Well, it’s about time,” I drawled, as if his snide tone didn’t bother me. “I’ve been looking forward to the family reunion for weeks now.”

  It took a moment for my words to sink in, but once they did, Tucker blinked in surprise, and realization dawned in his eyes. He looked at me, then at Bria, who gave him a hate-filled glare.

  Lorelei stared at the three of us, a frown on her face, clearly wondering what was going on, as were Emery and the other giants. Seemed as though Emery and her men didn’t know about my familial connection to the Circle.

  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Tucker murmured.

  “Oh, I can’t say that, because you certainly did.” I didn’t even bother trying to keep the bitterness out of my voice.

  He gestured at one of the giants to open th
e doors. I held my breath, expecting our captor to be standing right behind the doors, but he wasn’t there, and all I could see of the room beyond were a couple of large bookcases.

  Tucker slid his arm out of Lorelei’s. She started to step back, but he grabbed her hand, bent down, and pressed a light, gallant kiss to her knuckles. Lorelei froze.

  The vampire straightened and dropped her hand. “Thank you for allowing me to escort you, Ms. Parker.”

  Lorelei’s hand curled into a fist, as though she was thinking about sucker-punching Tucker the same way she had done to that giant earlier. Instead, she relaxed her hand and gave him a wide, toothy smile. “Why, I was absolutely delighted, Mr. Tucker.”

  “Is it just me, or are the two of them doing some really weird passive-aggressive flirting?” Bria whispered in a voice only I could hear.

  I shook my head. I had no idea what was going on between the two of them. Part of me didn’t want to know. I had enough problems already without worrying about Tucker and Lorelei.

  Emery flapped her hand in an impatient wave. “Inside. Now.”

  I looked at Bria. Her face was pale and tight with worry, and I could feel my features twisting into a similarly grim expression. After all these months of looking for the person behind the Circle, now that I was finally going to face him, I didn’t know what to do or especially how to feel.

  “Move or die,” Emery growled.

  A couple of the giants aimed their guns at me, Bria, and Lorelei again, and I had no choice but to swallow my feelings and walk forward.

  The doors opened up into a small antechamber. We moved through that, made a right-hand turn, and stepped into an enormous study that easily took up half of this level.

  The walls were made of glossy golden hardwood, as was the floor, which was covered with thick rugs done in varying shades of black, gray, and forest green. A white stone fireplace took up most of the right wall, while floor-to-ceiling bookcases adorned the left one. A large antique desk was positioned in front of three glass doors set into the back wall that opened up onto a wraparound porch.

  Dark green leather chairs and couches were scattered throughout the study, along with low tables, and a glass liquor cabinet was nestled in the back corner between the fireplace and the porch doors. The bottles of brandy, whiskey, and gin inside the cabinet gleamed in the glow cast out by the crystal chandelier hanging down from the white-plaster-lined ceiling.

  The room looked like an old-timey gentleman’s study except for one thing: all the stones on display.

  Sapphire paperweights squatting on the desk. Smooth, flat ovals of rose quartz lining the bookshelves. Chunks of common limestone perching on the end tables. Emeralds, opals, rubies, agate, pyrite, gypsum. Those stones and dozens more glittered, gleamed, and glinted in various nooks and crannies throughout the room, as though I had stepped into a museum and was looking at some prize rock collection. All the stones were interesting shapes and sizes, but the most troubling thing was that they all pulsed with elemental magic.

  The cold, hard power emanating off the rocks was almost exactly the same as my own Stone magic. Normally, the feel of another Stone elemental’s magic wouldn’t bother me, not the way the pricking pins-and-needles of Air power or the hot, burning sparks of Fire magic would have. But knowing who this magic belonged to and all the horrible things he’d done with it made me grind my teeth, and I had to swallow down a snarl rising in my throat.

  Bria shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself, while Lorelei’s lips pressed into a tight, thin line. They couldn’t hear the rocks’ smug, proud murmurs, but they could easily sense the elemental power radiating off the baubles.

  Radiating off him.

  A man was lounging in a dark green leather chair behind the antique desk, reading through some documents as though this was his private study. Maybe it was. The Circle had people everywhere, and it wouldn’t surprise me to learn they had infiltrated the historical association too.

  The man didn’t look up as we approached the desk, and neither Tucker nor Emery nor any of the giants called out to him. None of them made so much as a squeak of sound, as though they were afraid to breathe wrong and interrupt his task, whatever it was.

  After another thirty seconds of study, the man finished reading through the documents and set the last piece of paper aside. Then he finally deigned to look up at us.

  He was in his mid-fifties and quite handsome, with high cheekbones, a straight nose, and a strong jaw. His wavy dark brown hair was perfectly cut and styled and peppered with silver, and his eyes were the same gray as mine. Wrinkles fanned out from the corners of his eyes and grooved into his tan skin, as did a few lines around his mouth, but he looked fit, muscled, and strong. His navy suit jacket stretched across his broad shoulders, as did his light blue shirt, and a large silverstone pin shaped like a ring of swords pointing outward glinted in the center of his silver tie.

  I wondered if the ring of swords was his own personal rune or one he’d created for the Circle. Maybe I would ask before I killed him.

  If I could kill him.

  The man glanced at Lorelei first. He studied Bria a little bit more closely, then focused on me. He looked me over from head to toe before his gaze locked onto my face. I wondered if he saw something of Tristan, my father, his brother, in my features. I wondered if the sight haunted him the way it had haunted me ever since I found that photo of my father at the Eaton Estate. Probably not. I doubted anything bothered this man.

  After about a minute of silent contemplation, the man pushed his chair back from the desk, got to his feet, and buttoned his suit jacket. Then he looked at me again, a smile stretching across his handsome face.

  “Hello, ladies,” he said, in a rich, deep baritone that was as smooth and polished as the stones that filled the study. “My name is Mason Mitchell. Welcome to my home.”

  Chapter Seven

  Mason Mitchell.

  The words echoed in my mind in time to the ache still pounding in my skull. So that was his name, which meant that my father’s full name was Tristan Mitchell.

  Tristan Mitchell. Tristan Mitchell. Tristan Mitchell.

  I silently repeated my father’s name, waiting for it to ring a bell or stir up some vague memory, but nothing happened. It could have been a stranger’s name for as little as it resonated with me.

  But the longer I stared at Mason, the more his name echoed in my mind over and over again, like a record that was skipping and stuck on the worst part of the chorus. Mason Mitchell… Mason Mitchell…

  Mason fucking Mitchell.

  Fletcher’s voice sounded in my mind, as loud and clear as that proverbial bell I’d been waiting for, making me jerk back in surprise. Maybe it was the continued pounding in my skull, but for a moment, I could have sworn that the old man was actually in the study, that he’d said those words aloud, and I had to resist the urge to check and see if he was hiding behind the furniture.

  But Fletcher was dead, and Mason Mitchell was not, and I struggled to focus on the enemy in front of me, instead of the ghostly specter of the old man’s voice rattling around in my brain.

  Mason tipped his head to Lorelei. “Ms. Parker. How lovely to finally meet you. Your reputation as one of Ashland’s premier smugglers precedes you. Please. Have a seat.”

  He gestured at one of the chairs in front of the desk. Lorelei glanced at me, but we all knew it wasn’t a request. Lorelei moved forward, sat down, and perched stiffly on the edge of the chair.

  Mason turned his toothy shark’s smile to Bria. “Detective Coolidge. Another woman whose tough, honest reputation precedes her. Please. Sit.”

  Bria reached out and squeezed my hand, her fingers cold and clammy against my own, but she kept her face calm and her chin held high as she marched forward and took a seat.

  And then there was one. Mason’s sharp gray gaze traced over my face again. “Ms. Blanco. The famed assassin the Spider. The purported queen of the Ashland underworld and the person who’s been giving
my associates so much trouble over the past few months.”

  I didn’t respond, and he waved his hand, graciously indicating that I should take the final seat between Lorelei and Bria, the one that was directly across from his own chair behind the desk.

  I too didn’t have a choice, so I moved forward and dropped into the chair. Unlike Lorelei and Bria, I settled myself back against the cushions, as though this was a friendly visit and not a forced introduction. Mason wasn’t going to immediately kill us. No, he wanted something from one or more of us, most likely me. That was the only reason we were still breathing.

  For now.

  Mason sat back down in his own chair. Tucker went over to the liquor cabinet, opened it, and grabbed a glass, along with a bottle of Scotch. He poured Mason a drink, then set it and the bottle on the desk, but Mason didn’t even glance at the objects. Instead, he focused on me again.

  “I would offer you ladies a beverage, but I’m afraid you might do something silly, like break a glass and try to use it as a weapon against me.” His smile dropped away, and his gray eyes were suddenly as cold as a winter blizzard. “That would be a very foolish thing to do.”

  He put a little bit of bite—and magic—into his last few words, and several soft, ominous rattle-rattles sounded. The sapphire paperweights on the desk violently vibrated, as though they were seconds away from shattering. The rest of the stones scattered throughout the study did the same thing, like they were bombs about to explode and tear us to pieces with their sharp, splintered shrapnel.

  Neither Lorelei, Bria, nor I said anything, although Lorelei curled her hands around her chair arms, while Bria fisted her fingers in her lap. They’d seen and felt that elemental display just like I had.

  I might be an assassin with considerable Ice and Stone magic, but Mason had more pure, raw power than anyone I’d ever faced before, including Mab Monroe. No wonder Emery and her men hadn’t bothered to confiscate Bria’s gun or my knives. They knew Mason could simply wave his hand and bludgeon us to death with the stones in the study.