Fletcher.
The grief and guilt mixed with the rage in my chest, each one smashing into the other, until I wasn’t sure what I was feeling — besides pain. But I forced myself to think, to let my cold judgment temper my emotions. If it had just been me, I might have snuck back up to the cabin and had a go at the elemental and her crew. But I had Finn to think about. Donovan Caine, too.
Besides, Fletcher had called me the Spider for a reason. I was at my cautious best when I was creeping in and out of the shadows. Spinning my own webs, making my own plans. Not being stupid and going out in a blaze of glory.
I pointed. “See that light? That glow? That’s her magic. Do you want that to be us, Finn? Because I’m sure the Air elemental would be happy to show you exactly how pissed she is right now.”
Finn thought about it. Weighing his desire to avenge his father’s death against what he knew would be a disastrous plan at best, deadly at worse.
In the backseat, Donovan Caine kept looking back and forth between the two of us.
After about thirty seconds, Finn sighed and let go of the steering wheel. “No. I don’t want that to be us.”
I reached over and squeezed his hand. “Smart man. Don’t worry. We’ll take care of her, Finn. I’ll take care of her. Just not tonight.”
“Promise?” His voice dropped to a whisper.
I squeezed his hand again. “Promise. Now, let’s go. Before the bitch realizes we’re still here and watching her.”
16
Finn waited until the wind died down and the Air elemental had swept into the cabin before he started the engine and did a U-turn in the middle of the wide street. Headlights off, Finn eased the vehicle toward the end of the block. He coasted over another street before he flipped on the lights and picked up speed.
“Where to?” Finn asked.
He gave me a sidelong glance. Such a simple question, but I knew what he was really asking — if I was going to take Donovan Caine back to my apartment. No other choice. Finn’s place was out, and I needed to keep the detective close to make sure he wouldn’t do something stupid — like go off on a righteous mission and get us all killed.
“Home,” I said.
“Home?” Donovan Caine echoed. “You live in Ashland?”
“Born and bred, detective.”
The light turned red. Finn stopped and used the pause to stare in the rearview mirror at the detective’s bruised features.
“We’re not going to the, ah, salon first?” Finn asked. “To take care of some things?”
I knew what he was asking. If we were going to swing by Jo-Jo’s, so the dwarf could slap Donovan Caine with some of her healing Air elemental magic. Taking the detective back to my anonymous apartment was one thing. I could always move after this was over with. Planned on it already.
But I wasn’t going to haul the detective over to Jo-Jo’s and ask her to heal him, especially since his injuries weren’t life-threatening. The dwarf had been entrenched in her house since before the Civil War. She wouldn’t move or disappear no matter what happened. Donovan Caine didn’t need to know about my connection to Jo-Jo Deveraux and her body-disposing sister, Sophia. Besides, if things went all to hell, Jo-Jo’s was one of our safe houses, a place where Finn and I could crash for a few hours or days. I wasn’t risking that.
“No,” I replied. “I got some supplies at the salon last night. We’re good, so it’s straight to the apartment.”
Finn nodded and made the appropriate turn. In the backseat, Donovan Caine said nothing. I clicked on the radio, and the soft strains of music filled the car. “Margaritaville” by Jimmy Buffett. The cheery song made me think of the easy, breezy Key West vacation I’d told Fletcher I was taking after the Gordon Giles hit. Fletcher would never get the chance to see the sun set over Mallory Square again. I wondered if I would share his fate.
“Well, you’ve rounded up your band of merry men and saved them from the wicked witch. Now what?” Finn asked, cutting into my dark thoughts.
The detective snorted at the illusion.
“You’re mixing up your stories. Besides, aren’t you too old to be talking in fairy tales?” I sniped.
“Maybe. But we still need a plan, Gin. We can’t keep skirting around the elemental and her men. One time she’ll get lucky instead of us. Be there ahead of us. Outthink us.”
“I know. Believe me, I know.” I rubbed my head. Dried blood flaked off my hands and face, dotting the front of my clothes like crimson snowflakes. Making me that much dirtier. For the second time tonight, I felt old and tired and used up.
“We’ll go to my apartment.” I leaned my head back against the seat. “Get settled for the night. Tomorrow, we’ll start getting to the bottom of this.”
“Original,” Finn said.
Donovan Caine remained silent in the backseat.
“Do you have a better idea?” I asked.
Finn lifted his shoulders. “No. I’m just the driver, remember, Miss Daisy? I don’t know nothing ’bout coming up with no plans.”
“Then shut up, Mamie,” I snapped. “Before I throw you out of the car.”
After taking the usual circuitous route, we reached my building thirty minutes later. Finn waited in the emergency stairwell with Donovan Caine while I made sure no one was hiding inside my apartment. I brushed my fingers over the rough stone around the door frame. The same low hum as always murmured back to me. No visitors today. Good.
I slid the key in the lock and went inside. The first thing I did was go over to the mantel, grab the three rune drawings, and hide them under my bed. Donovan Caine didn’t need to see those. Hell, I wasn’t even sure I wanted to look at them tonight. My eyes scanned the rest of the den and kitchen, looking for anything that might tell the detective more about me than I wanted to reveal. But there was nothing. The space was empty, remote, spartan.
I stuck my head into the stairwell. “We’re clear. Come on in.”
Finn went to the kitchen table to fire up his laptop and check his e-mail. The man couldn’t go two hours without some form of electronic check-in. Computer junkie.
Donovan Caine stalked from one side of the den to the other, staring at my furniture, my many books, even the DVDs around the television. His hazel eyes flicked over everything, but I couldn’t read what conclusions he’d drawn.
I went into the kitchen, unzipped my bloody jacket, and threw it in the trash on top of the vampire hooker’s ruined clothes from two nights ago. Might as well wait another day or two. The way things were going, I’d have more items to toss inside for a late-night trip down to the basement incinerator.
“I’m going to take a shower. Make yourself comfortable, detective. Watch television. Raid the fridge. What ever.” I might be an assassin, but never let it be said I wasn’t as gracious a hostess as the next gal.
“You.” I pointed at Finn. “Keep an eye on him. When I’m done, we’ll talk.”
The two men eyed each other. Assessing strengths. Looking for weaknesses. Measuring dicks once again.
Shaking my head, I slipped into the bathroom and closed the door. I stripped off the rest of my bloody clothes and stepped into the shower. The water hissed on, and I turned it as hot as it would go and not scald my skin. Then I leaned my head against the slick tile and exhaled.
What a fucking night. Running all over town, making deals, trying to save people before they got dead. A new experience for me. When I’d woken up this morning, I hadn’t expected any of this. Certainly not rescuing Donovan Caine.