“Well, Gin?” Finn asked. “What do you say?”
They both looked at me, Owen’s face calm and accepting, Finn’s bright and eager. Owen didn’t have a stake in whether Benson lived or died, but Finn certainly did: Bria.
Benson couldn’t hurt her if he was dead, and if I didn’t kill him, I wouldn’t put it past Finn to attempt the deed himself. But my killing the vamp—or even Finn doing the job—wouldn’t satisfy Bria. Not really. Not with her burning need for revenge for her informant’s death. That was the kind of poison promise that you had to fulfill yourself—by twisting a knife into your enemy’s heart, feeling his warm blood coat your hands, and watching the fire flare out of his eyes.
“Gin?” This time, Owen asked the question.
Instead of answering, I dropped my gaze back down to the table, locking on a particular photo, the one of Silvio, Laura, and Catalina.
I reached out and traced my index finger over Silvio’s arm as it curved around his sister’s shoulder, his hand resting close to Catalina’s smiling face. I thought of everything Catalina had already gone through with her mother’s death, then witnessing Troy’s murder. And everything that Silvio had endured over the years, all the bits and pieces of himself that had been sanded down and sucked away, not because of Benson’s vampiric Air magic but just by Silvio working for him. The two of them didn’t deserve to lose anything else. Not to the likes of Benson.
I picked up the photo and set it over on the far side of the table where it would be out of the way. Then I grabbed the pictures that showed the exterior of Benson’s mansion, before looking up at Owen and Finn in turn.
“Yeah,” I said. “I’m going to do it. I’m going to kill Benson.”
We finished our powwow. Before leaving, Finn promised to come by the restaurant tomorrow to help me start scouting out the best location to snipe Benson from. Owen offered to stay the night, but I sent him home too. It had been a long day, and the next few would be longer still, at least until Benson was dead, and I was determined to get every bit of rest I could.
For once, I didn’t fall into my dreams and memories of the past, and I woke up feeling refreshed. Or perhaps my good mood was because I’d finally made the choice to take out the vampire. I’d been indecisive the past few days, wimpy, wishy-washy, and just plain whiny. I always felt better when I had a plan of attack.
But before I killed Benson, I had to get through another day at the Pork Pit.
I opened the restaurant right on time, keeping an eye out in case Benson had posted any of his men around the restaurant to watch me, but the street out front was clear, and so was the alley out back. And none of the customers who came and went was interested in anything but how much barbecue they could stuff themselves with. I savored the quiet. It wouldn’t last.
At around three o’clock, I had enough time to take a break, so I sat on my stool, pulled the file of information on Benson out from a slot in the counter below the cash register, and read through it. I’d already reviewed it once last night before going to bed, but I was hoping that a fresh look today would help me figure things out.
Finn was right. Trying to get anywhere near Benson on his home turf would be suicide, but I didn’t trust that I could take him out with a sniper rifle either. With his Air magic and the precognition that went along with it, he might be able to dodge a bullet at the last second.
No, I was going to do the hit face-to-face, with one of my knives, so I could be sure that he died. So I’d have to figure out another place to approach Benson, like maybe outside Underwood’s when he went there for his usual Sunday-night dinner of veal cutlets. He liked them rare and bloody, according to Silvio—
My cell phone rang, cutting into my murderous musings. I pulled it out of my jeans pocket and stared at the caller ID. I frowned. I wouldn’t have expected him to call. Not after what had happened at the club yesterday. Not when he was supposed to be taking some time off.
“Hello?”
“Gin?” Xavier’s voice rumbled in my ear.
“Hey, man, what’s up? How are you?”
After Owen and Finn had left the night before, I’d phoned Roslyn to check on her. She’d sounded okay, and Xavier had been at her house, but I hadn’t spoken to him. Xavier needed some space from Bria and everything related to Benson right now—including me.
“I just heard from a buddy of mine on the force,” he said. “He gave me a heads-up about something.”
The dark note of worry in his voice made me sit up straighter. “What?”
He let out a breath. “Bria told the higher-ups that she would be bringing in the witness to Troy’s murder this afternoon. She’s supposed to be at the station with Catalina by five o’clock.”
I let out a curse so loud that an old woman sitting in one of the booths sniffed and shook her finger at me in disapproval.
“Bria actually told them when she was showing up with Catalina?” I asked in a much lower voice. “She knows how dangerous that is, right? Benson is sure to hear about it. He’ll try to stop them before they get to the station.”
“I’m sure she stalled as long as she could, but she had to tell them.” Xavier paused. “And I don’t think she cares at this point, Gin. About anything other than getting Benson.”
I cursed again, because he was right. The old lady gave me another disapproving sniff, but a cold glare from me had her ducking her head and examining the ketchup smears on her plate.
I’d hoped that Bria would spend a few more days dotting her i’s and crossing her t’s before she went ahead with her plan to use Catalina’s testimony against Benson. Or at least until I could kill him and make everything else moot. But I should have known better. My sister could be as stubborn as I was when it came to people who hurt the folks she cared about. Bria had promised Max, her informant, that she would have his back, that she would watch out for him, that she would protect him, so I could understand her need to avenge him, even if that meant putting herself and Catalina in danger instead.
Bria and I might be pissed at each other right now, but I wasn’t going to let my sister die.
“Do you know what route Bria is going to take to the station?” I asked. “I’ll get ahead of her, go over there, and check it out. Make sure that everything’s on the up-and-up.”
“We talked about it yesterday,” Xavier said. “Before we got the call about Roslyn. I’ll text you the info as soon as we hang up. But there’s only one potential ambush spot. That’s why we decided on this particular route.”
He rattled off a location I was familiar with, then paused again. “I’ll meet you there, if that’s okay.”
“Are you sure? You and Bria didn’t exactly part on good terms yesterday. I understand if you want to sit this one out.”
“Bria’s my partner,” he said. “She’s had my back dozens of times. I owe it to her to do the same, even if we’re not getting along right now. What Benson did to Roslyn yesterday . . . it shook me up pretty bad. But the more I think about it, the angrier I get. Bria might be obsessed with taking Benson down, but she’s not wrong about wanting to get him off the streets.”
“I know. But getting herself and Catalina killed won’t solve anything, so let’s make sure that doesn’t happen. What do you say?”
“I’d say that I wouldn’t mind getting a little payback on Benson myself.” I could hear the grin in Xavier’s voice.
“I’m on my way. See you there.”
“Will do.”
Xavier and I hung up. A second later, my phone beeped with info on the route he and Bria had worked out—
A shadow fell over me, and someone cleared her throat.