Widow’s Web (Elemental Assassin #7)

Widow’s Web (Elemental Assassin #7) Page 9

Kincaid blinked in surprise. Apparently, he hadn't thought I'd be able to find all the skeletons in his closet as easily as he had the ones in mine, but I had, thanks to Finn. Sometimes I thought my foster brother must be part bloodhound, the way he could track down leads and run them to ground with only a whiff of information to go on.

"You got those burns when you were thirteen, right?" I said. "And a whole lot of other injuries. Cuts, bruises, a few broken bones. At that foster home where the man of the house drank like a fish and liked to smack around his wife and the kids in his care when he'd had a few too many. Funny thing about that guy. Shortly after child services noted the burns on your arms, a robber broke into the house and almost beat that man to death with a metal pipe. That's what the wife claimed in the police report, anyway. But you know what I think, Philly? That thirteen wasn't an important year for just me."

His blue eyes glittered with a cold light, but he didn't respond.

"Don't get me wrong," I said. "I think the bastard got exactly what he deserved. Actually, I'd say he got off easy. I would have stabbed him to death."

Kincaid snorted, but he didn't say anything, so I continued.

"Maybe you were scared the cops would put you in juvie for what you did to that guy, maybe you were scared of him beating on you again when he got out of the hospital, or maybe you just decided you'd rather fend for yourself. Either way, there's no record of you in any foster home after that. In fact, you dropped off the map entirely for a few years there, which leads me to believe you were living on the Southtown streets and scrounging for whatever food, clothes, and money you could find, cheat, beg, borrow, or steal. Eventually, you joined some of the lower-level crews in Ashland, working your way up through the ranks until you decided to branch out on your own. Somewhere along the way, you dreamed up the idea for the Delta Queen and made it a reality. Even more impressive is the fact that you've managed to hang on to it all these years despite Mab and other folks trying to wrestle it away from you. So bravo to you."

I stopped twirling my knife long enough to walk over and pick up the gin and tonic from the bar. I toasted him with the drink, then used the glass to gesture at all the action figures and movie posters. "Now, seeing your office, I assume you growing up as poor and shitty as you did is the reason for all of this. The posters, the movies, the popcorn machine. That you're indulging yourself now with all the things you didn't have as a kid. I also assume that's the reason you gulped down your food at the Pork Pit the other day like you were afraid I was going to take it away from you. Because you have had your food taken away in the past. Because you've gone to sleep hungry more times than you'd care to remember."

Kincaid looked around the office as if he was seeing all the things inside it for the very first time - and, more important, what they revealed about him. His mouth twisted with disgust, but I couldn't tell if it was with himself for being so easy to read or with me for dredging up so many bad memories. Then his gaze dropped to the drink still in his hand, and he tossed it back as easily as he had the whiskey before. He put the empty glass down on the bar.

"Well, it seems like you've got me all figured out, Gin. Want to tell me what my favorite color is? Although, for the record, I wanted a kitten, not a puppy, when I was a kid."

"Not quite," I said. "As interesting as our life stories are, they don't explain what happened to Antonio tonight. So why don't we save the reminiscing and one-upmanship for some other time, and get down to business, with me asking the questions and you giving me the answers just as quick as you can."

"And if I don't want to answer your questions?"

I put my gin down on the bar and bared my teeth at him in a predatory smile. "Then I hope you enjoyed that drink, because it's the last fucking one you'll ever have."

Kincaid eyed the knife I'd started flipping over and over in my hand again. "You'd kill me just for not answering your questions?"

I shook my head. "No. Like you said, everyone in the underworld knows who I am, or at least who they think I am. I expected you to come after me sooner or later, just like everyone else has. Targeting me is one thing, but you put my friends, my family, in danger tonight - Eva, Violet, and Sophia. And that is what is unacceptable to me. That's what I'd kill you for and not think twice about it."

For a moment, I almost thought I saw a glint of respect in his eyes, but he kept his face as cold, remote, and impassive as mine was.

"First question?" he finally asked.

"Who's the water elemental who killed Antonio?"

Kincaid eyed the empty glass on the bar like he wished it was still full. "What makes you think I know who it is?"

"Because your second-in-command was murdered right in front of you, and you didn't bat an eye. Water elementals aren't uncommon, but the way this one used her magic was especially creative and vicious. But you just looked at Antonio, or what was left of him, and you weren't surprised in the least. So that makes me think you know exactly who this elemental is and what she's capable of. Not to mention the fact that you asked me to go after her. Not the elemental, not whoever had done this, but her."

Kincaid kept his gaze on the glass, so I decided to push him even more.

"And then there's Eva, who said that she wasn't leaving you behind again. Which, naturally, implies that she did leave you behind at some point before. Add that to everything else, and it seems that you know a hell of a lot more about what's going on than I do. I don't like to be kept in the dark, Philly - or worse: used. Believe me when I tell you that a person only ever does that once to me."

A muscle twitched in his cheek, but that was his only reaction. I thought Kincaid wouldn't answer me or that perhaps he was thinking of some lie or some way he could spin what had happened to Antonio. But after a few seconds, he shrugged again and gave me the answer I'd been expecting all along, although he did add a caveat that took me by surprise.

"Her name is Salina Dubois," he said, lifting his head and looking at me. "And I want you to kill the bitch for me."

Chapter 9

So my suspicions were correct, and Salina Dubois was a water elemental - one who could use her magic to kill as easily as I could with my own Ice and Stone power.

I'd thought as much, given the distinctive feel of the water elemental's magic - magic that had felt exactly like the power that Salina had subtly given off when I'd shaken her hand at Underwood's. At the restaurant, I'd thought that perhaps Salina was a weak Ice elemental or gifted in some subset, like water. Now, I knew exactly what kind of magic she had - and that she wasn't weak at all.

But Kincaid's confirmation raised even more questions. Did Owen know about Salina's magic? Did he know what she could do with it? Could my lover be in danger from her? And how did Eva and Kincaid fit into all of this? What tied them all together?

Kincaid watched me closely, waiting to see what effect his bombshell and subsequent request would have on me, but I didn't give him the satisfaction of reacting.

"Didn't you hear me?" he asked. "I want you to kill her for me. I want you, the Spider, to kill Salina Dubois."

I laughed. "And what? You think I'm going to do it just because you ask me to? Oh, Philly. You should know better than that."

"Of course not," he said in a smooth voice. "I know what a . . . professional you are. You deserve to be richly compensated for your skills and expertise. Believe me when I tell you that money is no object. Name your price, and I'll double it. Triple it, if necessary."

I shook my head. "There's not enough money in the world to get me to work for you."

"Ah, but money's not the only thing I can offer you. I think we'd both agree there are things that are far more precious than money, especially to people like us."

"And what would these precious things be?"

Kincaid grinned. "A little peace and quiet."

"What do you mean?"

His grin widened. "Consider this a tit-for-tat deal. You kill Salina, and I take care of all the folks who want to take out the Spider. That's a win-win for everyone, I'd say."

I looked at the casino boss. "Let me get this straight. In return for my killing Salina, you'll agree to what - call off every other lowlife in Ashland? I don't think you have that much pull, Philly."

"I have quite a bit more than you think, Gin," he said. "At the very least, I can give you some breathing room. It's been two months since Mab's funeral. How many people have you had to kill since then? A dozen? Two?"

I hadn't been keeping count. It wasn't like I was getting paid to kill people anymore - I had to do it simply to survive. But the constant barrage of blood and bodies had been enough to make me tired - so tired. That was the reason I'd gone down to Blue Marsh a few weeks ago, just so I could get away from everyone in Ashland who wanted me dead. But of course my vacation had ended up being just as dangerous. Still, I had to give Kincaid credit. His offer was tempting - far more tempting than he knew. It looked like the casino boss was shrewder, smarter, and more devious than I'd realized.

"Go on."

"Go on?" he asked. "And say what?"

"Oh, I don't know," I said. "Like maybe why Salina wants to kill you. I'm the one asking the questions, remember? Now, I'm assuming that you were her ultimate target, since it's your fancy riverboat we're on. I'm also guessing that offing Antonio the way she did was just fun for her, and that's why she didn't kill you to start with. Or maybe she killed him first to sucker you into going over to his body so she could use what was left of him to wrap that water noose around your neck. Personally, I like to be more straightforward about these things, but Salina seems a little ostentatious when it comes to her magic. Either way, she had no qualms about dropping two bodies here tonight."

He snorted. "You have no idea what Salina's idea of fun is."

"So enlighten me."

"All right," Kincaid said. "Since you've made it so clear what will happen if I don't answer your questions."

I just smiled and kept twirling my knife in my hand.

He drew in a breath. "Salina and I have been enemies for years. No real reason, just a mutual distaste for each other. It's not as dramatic as your victory over Mab, but I count the day Salina left town as one of the happiest of my life. But over the past few months, I've been hearing some rather disturbing rumors that she'd finally decided to come back to Ashland, rumors I was able to confirm a few days ago."

"And do you know why she's come back? Why now, after all these years? Why did she even leave town in the first place if this was her home?"

"Apparently, Salina's determined to start up her father's business again," he said.

"Who's her father?"

"Benedict Dubois."

I frowned. "Why does that name sound so familiar?"

Kincaid hesitated. "Benedict Dubois ran most of the gambling operations and bookies in Ashland for years. At least, until Mab decided those operations should belong to her. Benedict thought he could take her on and win, but I'm sure you can imagine how that turned out for him."

"Not well."

He nodded. "Salina . . . left town after his . . . death."

I looked at him. "But with Mab gone, you now run all the gambling operations in town. So you're telling me that Salina wants you dead because you're standing in the way of her re-creating her daddy's empire?"

He shrugged. "Something like that."

Kincaid wasn't telling me everything. Hell, he wasn't telling me a fraction of what I wanted to know. His answers were much too vague for that. Oh, I could believe Salina desired him dead because they were old enemies and she wanted to take over his business interests. That was par for course in the Ashland underworld. I couldn't even fault her for it, not really, not considering all the people I'd killed for money.

But that still didn't explain why Kincaid had asked me to cater the fund-raiser tonight. And the most telling thing, the big red elephant in the room, was Eva. Kincaid hadn't mentioned her at all, much less explained why Eva seemed to be as familiar with Salina's water magic as he was, or why he'd taken the time to comfort a girl he shouldn't have even known in the first place.

Before I could voice my suspicions and demand he tell me everything, one of the phones on his desk rang. Kincaid raised his eyebrows in a silent question, and I gestured for him to go ahead.

He walked over and picked it up. "What?" he growled into the phone.

A voice murmured something indistinct on the other end.

"Tell them I'll be right there." Kincaid hung up and looked at me. "Apparently, the police are here and want to talk to me."

He looked as thrilled by the prospect as I felt. As a semiretired assassin, I didn't exactly count the members of the po-po among my best friends. But I supposed I didn't have anything to hide tonight, since I hadn't actually murdered anyone on the riverboat. Why, I hadn't so much as gotten my clothes good and bloody. Definitely a slow night for the Spider.

We left Kincaid's office, walked back up the stairs to the ballroom, and stepped out onto the main deck. While I'd been gone, Sophia, Violet, and Eva had packed up the catering supplies - what was left of them. All the pots, pans, and utensils had been knocked to the deck and trampled during the stampede, along with the tins of food. More than a few had been kicked overboard and had disappeared into the murky depths of the river. But that was the least of my problems right now.