I kept watching. Carlyle went around to the back of the vehicle and opened the door.
He held out his hand, and the woman took it and stepped up and away from the sedan, as though she were some debutante exiting her limo at her coming-out party.
Pretentious bitch.
"Damn it," I cursed. "She's on the far side of the car with her back to me, and she's wearing a long, black cloak. Who the f**k wears a cloak? This isn't Dungeons & Dragons. The hood's up. I can't see a thing. Not her face, not her hair, not even her clothes. Nothing."
The steering wheel creaked again. "We could take her out, right here, right now," Finn said. "They won't be expecting us. They won't be expecting you."
"No. I'm not taking on the elemental. Not tonight. She'd kill us all. And I'm not letting that happen to you." "But-"
"No, Finn," I snapped. "Listen to me. You might think you know what an elemental can do, but you don't. No matter what picture you saw. You don't have a clue how vicious their magic can be. But I do."
The image of Fletcher's body flashed through my mind, followed by the burned, smoldering remains of my mother and older sister. The familiar grief pressed down on my lungs, trying to smother me. The spider runes on my hands itched, as though they were the real creatures wiggling underneath my scarred flesh, instead of just ghastly memories.
Donovan Caine's hazel eyes flicked back and forth between us. "But-" Finn never got to finish his sentence. A gust of wind ripped out from the cabin, whistling like the swing of a death scythe. The blast of air flattened all the stunted pine trees in the yard before sweeping down the hill and rushing down the street like a miniature tornado. Trash cans overturned. Mailboxes ripped up out of the ground.
One poor cat got picked up by the wind and tossed against the side of a pickup truck.
It didn't get back up.
The Air elemental had found the first body crumpled by the front door, and she wasn't happy about it.
I squinted into the goggles, trying to get a glimpse of her face. The hood cast her face in shadow, but she'd pushed back the sleeves of her cloak. The ends of her fingers burned milky white with magic, as if each digit were an individual welder's torch. The sort of concentrated power that would cause excruciating pain. The sort of magic that could strip flesh from bone. The sort of torture Fletcher had endured.
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."
Chapter Sixteen
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."