“You okay?” I asked, setting my knife down on top of the frosty surface. “What happened?”
Instead of answering me, Roslyn reached under the bar, grabbed a bottle of whiskey, and fixed herself a double shot. She threw back the liquor like it was water, then made herself another double, which she also downed. It took her a third double before she finally met my gaze. Even then, the alcohol had done little to dull the fear straining her face or the faint tremors that shook her body.
“There was a knock on the back door,” Roslyn said. “I was expecting a delivery, so I opened it without looking. They stormed into the club, guns drawn, and Benson made me sit down with him.”
It was more or less what I’d expected, and her soft words only made me angrier. “Then what?”
“Benson told me to call and get you to come over here. I’m so sorry, Gin, but I didn’t have a choice.”
I waved away her apology. “I know you didn’t. Thank you for warning me that something was wrong.”
She stared at the spot on the dance floor where Derrick had died. Not so much as a speck of blood marred the surface, but Roslyn still shuddered. “I’d forgotten how cruel he can be.”
“You know Benson?”
She shuddered again. “From back when I was still on the streets.”
I frowned. “But I thought he was just into drugs.”
“He is now,” Roslyn said. “But back then, twenty years ago, when he was first starting out, he ran girls, guys too. I didn’t work for him, but I still paid him protection money not to hurt me. That’s how vicious he was. Eventually, he took over most of the other gangs. He was powerful enough that even Mab left him alone, as long as he stayed in Southtown and out of her way.”
“How did you get away from him? Benson doesn’t seem like the type to let anyone go.”
A wry smile curved Roslyn’s lips, chasing away some of her fear. “He isn’t—or wasn’t. But I scrimped and scrounged and saved up every penny I could get my hands on, and I made him an offer—a hundred thousand dollars to let me strike out on my own.”
I let out a low whistle. “And he agreed to it?”
“He thought of it as an experiment of sorts. He’s big on that, you know. Putting people in certain situations, seeing how they react and whether they can keep their promises to him.” Her voice dropped to a whisper again. “He likes it when people fail.”
I thought of Troy and Derrick. “Actions and consequences.”
She nodded. “He thought that the club would fail and that I’d have to come crawling back to him. Then he would have had me and my money.” She lifted her chin. “But that didn’t happen, and it never, ever will.”
Roslyn was a smart, savvy businesswoman. In her own way, she was more ruthless about her club than I was with my knives. Because not only was Northern Aggression Roslyn’s pride and joy, but it also supported her sister, Lisa, and her young niece, Catherine.
“Has Xavier said anything to you about Bria? Or what happened at the parking garage?”
“He told me everything.” She shook her head. “Poor Catalina. That girl has no idea what she’s gotten herself into. Doesn’t she know that no one talks in Southtown?”
Last night, I would have agreed with Roslyn. But now, after Benson had threatened her and Bria, my perspective had changed, and I saw how truly brave Catalina was being.
Even if it would most likely be the death of her.
Roslyn poured herself another drink, although she only cupped the glass between her hands, instead of throwing back the whiskey like she had before. “You need to watch out for Bria. I know she’s faced down a lot of bad guys, but Benson is worse than most. You saw what he did to Derrick.” Another tremor swept through her body. “And he wasn’t even using his magic.”
“Magic? What magic? What’s his deal? Benson said that he didn’t like to drink blood, but he seemed happy enough to sink his fangs into Derrick.”
“Oh, he still drinks blood,” Roslyn said. “We all have to do that. But Benson really gets his kicks by feeding on people’s emotions. It’s a rare vampiric ability. Xavier told me that’s what he did to Bria’s informant and the guy in the parking garage. That he pulled the fear and terror right out of them and left nothing behind but the empty husks of their bodies. Anger, lust, rage, sorrow, heartache—he can yank the smallest bit of feeling out of anyone. And when he digs out your emotions, he digs out the power that’s inside you too, whether it’s a giant’s strength or an elemental’s magic.”
I thought of the way Benson had kept staring at me and the feel of that invisible sandpaper scraping against my skin. So I’d been right, and he’d been trying to sense my emotions, trying to rile me up so he could tear the anger out of me, along with my Ice and Stone magic.
I tapped my fingers against the cold bar. “He must have some special form of Air magic, maybe one that only vampires have and that they can only use in this one particular way, for him to be able to rip out people’s emotions with just a touch of his hand. I’ll have to ask Jo-Jo about it—”
The beep of a car horn outside the club, along with the screech of tires on the pavement, cut off my words. Roslyn and I looked at each other. Someone wanted to get in here in a hurry.
“Get down!” I hissed. “Behind the bar!”
Roslyn stopped long enough to yank her shotgun out of its slot, then disappeared behind the thick, glittering sheet of elemental Ice. I grabbed my knife off the bar and raced toward the front of the club, plastering myself up against the wall inside the entrance.
I’d barely gotten into position when the doors burst open, and three figures rushed inside, all with guns in their hands.
Two men and a woman raced by me, and I let them go, instead of stepping out of the shadows and confronting them. I didn’t want to get shot by accident. The three figures were so focused on what was up ahead in the club that they never even noticed me lurking behind them. I slid my knife back up my sleeve and followed them at a more sedate pace.
Xavier, Bria, and Finn skidded to a halt and took up a position so that they were back-to-back-to-back in the middle of the dance floor, their guns up, their eyes cutting left and right, looking for enemies.
“Roslyn!” Xavier called out.
“Here! I’m here!” Roslyn replied, standing up behind the Ice bar.
Xavier went over and grabbed her in a fierce hug, lifting her off her feet with one arm before he set her back down. He holstered his gun, cradled her face in his hands, and started whispering to her. Roslyn kept nodding, trying to convince him that she was fine.
“Where’s Gin?” Finn asked.
“On your blind side,” I drawled. “Just like always.”
I stepped out onto the dance floor where he could see me. Finn lowered his gun and raised his eyebrows at me in a silent question. I nodded back, letting him know that I was okay.
“What about Benson?” Bria demanded. “Where is he?”
She snapped her gun from one side of the club to the other, as if she thought that Benson was still here and going to leap out from behind the red velvet curtains so she could shoot him.
“Glad to know that you’re so concerned about my safety,” I drawled again. “Roslyn’s too.”
Bria dropped her gun to her side and let out an exasperated breath. “Of course I’m glad that you guys are okay. It’s just that when Finn called, I thought . . .”
“That this was your big chance to finally nail Benson,” I finished. “Yeah, I think we all got that message loud and clear.”
A guilty blush stained Bria’s cheeks. The pale pink tint of her skin reminded me of Benson’s teeth. But she didn’t deny my accusation as she holstered her weapon. “So what happened?”