I just kept staring at him. Waiting.
Several seconds ticked by before he sighed, shook his head, and dropped his gaze from mine. "You know me too damn well, Gin," Finn grumbled.
I arched an eyebrow. "You bet your sweet ass I do. Which is why I think this thing is so hilarious. All these years of chasing women, and what happens? You go and fall in love with my sister before you even get her pants off."
Finn sucked in a breath. "Love? Who said anything about love? Please, Gin. You know how much I abhor that particular word."
Another shudder wracked his body, as though someone had just walked over his grave. But for the first time, I detected just a hint of wistfulness in his tone. I hid a smile. Oh, yeah. Finn had it bad for Bria.
"It's nothing to be ashamed of, admitting that you've finally met your match," I said. "Because Bria is pretty spectacular. Smart, beautiful, tough. You could do a lot worse."
Finn eyed me with suspicion. He might put on a charming facade, but if there was one thing that made him uncomfortable, it was talking about his own emotions. In that way, we were remarkably similar.
"And why are you suddenly okay with me trying to seduce your sister? If I remember correctly, there was a time not too long ago when you told me to take it easy around sweet little Bria."
"That was before I realized that Bria isn't so sweet and little anymore," I said. "Besides, I've seen the way that she looks at you. She's not quite as immune to your charms as she pretends to be."
A slow grin spread across Finn's face. "Really? You shouldn't have told me that, Gin. Because now I'm just going to try that much harder to seal the deal, so to speak. Even if she is your sister."
His tone lightened, as though he'd fully reverted back to the carefree, conniving Finnegan Lane who had seduced most of the female population in Ashland and had his sights set on the stragglers. But the barest trace of emotion flashed in his eyes before he was able to hide it from me-hope.
I shrugged as though it didn't matter to me what Finn did or didn't do with my sister. I wasn't telling my foster brother the real reason I was suddenly on board with the Finn-Bria love train leaving the station-the fact that part of me wanted them to have each other to hold on to. Because when I went after Mab again, I probably wouldn't be around afterward for either one of them to lean on. Better for them to find each other now. Better for them to realize that they could trust each other now, rather than after I was dead and burned to ash by Mab's Fire magic.
"And what about Owen?" Finn asked. "Jo-Jo called me and said that he came over to the salon to check on you. That he was upset you hadn't told him what you were up to regarding Mab. Apparently, I wasn't the only one you left out of the loop last night."
I shifted on my feet. Finn knew me inside and out, which meant that he could put the screws to me just as well as I could to him. But for once, I didn't mind his inquisition. I needed someone to talk to this about all this relationship stuff, especially since I was in new territory here.
"Owen started to tell me that he loved me," I said in a soft voice.
Finn frowned. "What do you mean started to?"
I drew in a breath and told him the whole sad story. About how angry Owen had been with me because I hadn't told him I was going after Mab and how he'd almost let those three little words slip-words that I wasn't sure I was ready to hear yet, much less reciprocate.
"He really does care about you, Gin," Finn said. "I can see it in his eyes whenever he looks at you."
"I don't know why. I'm not exactly the stuff that dreams are made of."
"Oh, please," Finn scoffed. "Smart, beautiful, tough. Does that ring a bell? Not only does it describe Bria, but it fits you pretty well, too."
I shrugged. "Maybe. But it doesn't change what I am and everything that I've done."
"I thought that Owen was okay with all of that. With your being the Spider."
"He might be, but I don't want to rub his face in it over and over again. That's just asking for trouble. That's one of the reasons why Donovan Caine left me, if you'll recall," I said, referring to a previous lover of mine.
Finn opened his mouth, probably to analyze my stunted emotional state some more, when I saw something move in the trees.
"Hey," I whispered, cutting him off. "Looks like we've finally got some action."
A man stepped out of the patch of trees and into the parking lot, heading for Bria. From the way that she straightened, the man had to be her source.
Lincoln Jenkins was a short, extremely thin guy with a mop of frizzy blond curls and a wispy, pitiful excuse for a goatee. A diamond stud too big to be real glinted in one of his ears, while a couple of thick, fake gold chains hung around his scrawny neck. The chains bounced against his white T-shirt, which he had on under some kind of puffy, oversize football jacket. Faded jeans sagged against his lean hips, and the tops of the denim pants all but swallowed up his pricey sneakers.
"He looks like some kind of wannabe white trash gangbanger," I said.
"That's the look that all the petty thieves in Ashland are rocking these days," Finn replied.
I frowned. "Well, if Jenkins is so small-time, then why is he claiming to have big-time information about whatever's going down in Ashland?"
"Every squirrel finds an acorn sooner or later," he said. "Even a low-life hood like Jenkins."
Finn kept watching Jenkins, but I looked past the thief, examining the thicket of trees that he'd left behind, the shadows that stretched out around the parking lot, and the street beyond with its two SUVs. It all looked innocent enough, but something about this whole thing felt wrong to me-seriously wrong.
Lincoln Jenkins sidled up to Bria. My sister glared at him.
"You're late," she snapped. "You said you'd be here ten minutes ago. I don't like standing out here in the cold, Lincoln."
"Aw, now, don't be like that. You wouldn't want me to slip and fall in the snow, now would ya?" Despite his gangbanger clothes, Jenkins's voice rasped with a twang that was pure country.
Jenkins might have been talking to Bria, but he wasn't really paying attention to her. Instead, his eyes flicked from side to side, as if he was trying to determine if Bria was alone. After a moment, a sly smile curled his lips. My thumb traced back and forth over the hilt of the knife in my hand. I didn't like the look of his smile. Not one damn bit.
"So what's this information that you have? The thing that you couldn't dare tell me over the phone? What's going on in the Ashland underworld that has everybody so stirred up?" Bria asked, her voice as chilly as the night air.