"It's okay, Gin," Bria whispered against my damp hair. "I'm here now. We're together now. Somehow, we'll find a way to take down Mab-together. I promise you that."
Tears spilled down my cheeks at her soft, simple words, but I made no move to brush them away. I didn't want her to know that I was crying. I didn't want her to see me like this. Weak, emotional, unbalanced, uncertain. I was the big sister here. Genevieve Snow, Gin Blanco, the Spider. I should be taking care of her, not the other way around.
But all that didn't keep me from reaching down, covering her hand with my own, and giving it a gentle squeeze. Bria snuggled a little closer to me and let out a soft sigh of understanding-and maybe contentment too.
Curled together, we lay there in bed until sleep claimed us once more.
Chapter 14
Bria slept in late the next morning. Not surprising. Being magically healed by Jo-Jo had left her feeling drained, as her mind tried to catch up to the fact that her body was suddenly well again, despite the beating she'd taken from the dwarven bounty hunter last night.
I'd been injured and healed as well, so I felt a little sluggish myself. But I didn't have the luxury of staying in bed, since I still had appearances to keep up and a barbecue restaurant to run. I woke Bria up long enough to get her to promise me that she'd stay put in the house today, then left to go to work.
The day passed by like any other at the Pork Pit. Sophia and I served up hot, steaming barbecue beef and pork sandwiches, along with thick, juicy cheeseburgers, sweet-and-sour coleslaw, baked beans, and more. All the while, a vat of Fletcher's secret barbecue sauce simmered on the back of the stove, flavoring the air with its spicy cumin kick.
People packed into the restaurant, standing three and four deep at the counter during the lunch rush. Everyone wanted a warm meal on such a cold, blustery day, and Catalina Vasquez and the rest of the waitresses who'd made it to work today swiped the plates of food as fast as Sophia and I could dish them up.
Still, despite the crush of bodies, I kept an eye on everyone who came and left the restaurant. Now that I knew exactly who and what I was looking for, I spotted more than a few of the bounty hunters. Men and women with hard, flat features and even harder eyes who watched everyone and everything around them, even while they were stuffing their faces with barbecue. Real rough types, who'd turn on you in a heartbeat if they thought there was any money to be made from the effort. In some ways, bounty hunters were worse than assassins. Assassins only wanted you dead, but bounty hunters were more than happy to deliver you into the hands of your worst enemy-alive-and all the implied tortures that went along with that, as long as they got paid in the end.
I kept a close eye on the bounty hunters who came into the Pork Pit, but none of them paid me any attention that they shouldn't. They were here for the food and nothing else.
I didn't know whether to be flattered or worried.
Finally, around three o'clock, after the daily lunch rush had come and gone, and the crowd had dwindled to only a few diners, the bell over the front door chimed, and Owen stepped inside.
He wore a tailored, navy suit that could be found in the closet of any wealthy Ashland businessman, topped by a long, matching coat. But on Owen, the layers of fabric went from being merely expensive to exquisite, draping over his shoulders just so and highlighting his tall, broad frame. Still, all the worsted wool in the world couldn't hide the strength of his body, the inherent toughness that radiated off him like the faintest flicker of heat from a burning candle. The dark blue color brought out the paleness of his skin, although his cheeks were red and ruddy from the cold. My gaze lingered on his chiseled features-the scar that slashed across his chin, the crooked quirk of his nose, the intense violet of his eyes. All things that made Owen go from merely sexy to heart-stoppingly devastating.
Owen stared at me, and I looked back at him. Emotions sparked and shimmered in the air between us. Heat. Desire. Need. Longing.
After a moment, his lips lifted into a sly, playful grin, and an answering rush of warmth flooded my heart. Owen had forgiven me for going after Mab by myself. He wouldn't have looked at me like that otherwise-not with such heat, not with such hope. The knowledge loosened a thick knot of tension in my stomach that I hadn't even been aware of until right now.
Looked like Finn wasn't the only one around here who had it bad for someone.
I'd called Owen last night while Bria was in the shower and had told him everything that had happened-the meeting at Northern Aggression, Lincoln Jenkins setting up Bria, the bounty hunters. Once again, Owen had been completely understanding of my situation, the way that he always was. I'd never had much in the way of luck, but I knew that I'd used up every single scrap of good that I had in finding him, a guy who was so at ease with my alternative career and lifestyle.
I just wished that I had the courage to tell him that, to tell him-everything.
But every time I tried to let Owen know exactly how crazy I was about him, something got in the way. Like a bounty being put on Bria's head. My being the Spider and coming home covered in blood. Or simply my own twisted emotions and the fact that while I excelled at killing people, I wasn't so good at letting them get close to me in any way that didn't involve my silverstone knives.
Owen wasn't alone. Finn strolled in behind him, wearing a similar suit and coat, although Finn looked far more at ease and far smarmier in the expensive fabric.
They walked over to the counter and took the two seats closest to the cash register. Owen leaned over, and our lips met. It was a brief, chaste kiss, the casual kind that lovers exchange all the time. But just the faintest touch of his lips on mine filled me with all sorts of wicked, wanton ideas, like telling the waitresses to go home early and letting Sophia mind the restaurant for half an hour or so while Owen and I went into the back and explored the sturdiness of various appliances. Mmm.
Owen must have known what I was thinking because his grin widened, and he gave me a sly, slow wink.
Finn arched an eyebrow. "Do I need to leave you two alone?"
"Maybe," I murmured, surprised at the depth of feeling that Owen stirred in me just by walking into my gin joint. "But since I know that you won't, there's no point in asking."
Finn huffed out his indignation, and I rolled my eyes. Owen just laughed. So did Sophia, who stood behind the counter shredding lettuce for the rest of the day's sandwiches.
"So what are the two of you doing out and about together?" I asked. "Or do I even want to know?"
Finn gave me a smug smile. "Owen's decided to move some of his business interests over to my bank and let me handle them personally."