That last knife felt as cold as the spider rune ring on my finger, since the blade contained my Ice magic - something else that had come out of my final fight with Mab. My body had burst into icy silver flames when I'd been dueling the Fire elemental, and the silverstone knife, along with the others I'd been carrying, had absorbed quite a bit of my magic. I'd never before used the power in this particular knife, the one that I'd killed Mab with, but it comforted me to know that it was there, just in case I needed it.
As for the icy flames, it was a trick that I hadn't done since then, although I'd tried a time or two to get my fists to ignite just to see if I could. So far, I hadn't had any luck. Then again, I hadn't been as desperate as I had been fighting Mab. I imagined that had quite a bit to do with my cold spontaneous combustion that night.
"Are you sure that you want to do this, Gin? Take on Dekes?" Bria asked, staring at me. "I know that you came to Blue Marsh to get away from all the thugs in Ashland who are after you right now. And Callie's my friend, not yours. I should be the one to help her, not you."
"I know," I said. "But you're my sister."
Bria stood there, like she was expecting me to say something else. But in my mind, I'd given her reason enough for putting myself in danger again. Yeah, maybe I was a coldhearted assassin, but I'd do anything for the people that I loved. Cheat, lie, steal, even kill for them. I'd done it before when I was battling Mab, and I would gladly do it again. I might be in a different city, but the rules of the game were still the same - and it was a game that I was determined to win.
"If we're all ready," I said, "let's go pay Randall Dekes a visit that he won't soon forget."
An hour later, a taxi dropped me off at the entrance to Dekes's island estate. It was just before five now, and the press conference was ramping up, judging by the people I saw streaming into the house.
"Right here is fine," I told the driver, slipping him a nice tip and climbing out of the backseat.
The taxi drove off, but I stayed where I was, looking at everything from the spikes on the open iron gate to the thick stone wall topped with razor wire to the armed giants that I could see walking along the manicured grounds in a specific, timed pattern. Dekes might be throwing open his doors for his press conference, but he was still being careful about things.
Just not careful enough, since the Spider was here.
I walked up the smooth cobblestone driveway, moving faster than the line of limos and news vans that crept up toward the front door. I'd been in and around many mansions, but Dekes's sprawling villa was impressive, even by Ashland standards. With its white stone, wrought-iron railings, and red slate roof, the multistory building looked like a slightly smaller but more elegant version of the Blue Sands hotel. According to the information that Finn had dug up, Dekes had built his home back in 1889, ten years before he'd started construction on the hotel.
I reached the top of the driveway and paused a moment, reaching out with my magic and listening to the stone of the mansion above me. Low, pain-filled mutters drifted down to me, along with a faint ripping sensation that made it seem like something was biting into the stone again and again and slowly tearing it apart from the inside out. It was a dark, ugly sound, one filled with sly menace and deadly intent. Despite its pristine appearance, Randall Dekes had done some violent things in his mansion over the years - some very violent, very bloody things. No surprise there.
The stones' mutters grew louder as I flashed my press credentials at the giants working the front door and stepped inside the mansion, but I pushed the sound to the back of my mind. The stones' warning wasn't unexpected or unwelcome, but I'd see for myself exactly what kind of man Dekes was soon enough.
The inside of the mansion was just as perfect, polished, and lavish as the outside. Crystal chandeliers, antique furniture, expensive paintings, exquisite statues, delicate carvings. Dekes had the very best of everything, just like I'd thought he would, and he seemed to embrace the location of his island home. Many of the furnishings were suggestive of the beach or sea, from the paintings of famous shipwrecks to the gold doubloons that glimmered in glass cases on the walls.
I followed the flow of traffic deeper into the mansion, stepped through a wide archway, and found myself back outside. The south lawn was dominated by an enormous pool that had the same distinctive palm tree shape as the one at the Blue Sands hotel. According to Finn, Dekes used the palm tree as his own personal rune, since so many of his business interests were located on the coast. A variety of colorful orchids and roses floated in the pool, their sweet scents mixing with the spicy colognes and cloying perfumes of the businessmen and businesswomen in attendance, along with the sweat of the news crews hauling around their cameras and other equipment.
I could also see the Blue Sands hotel from here, glimmering like an oversize opal in the distance. The back nine of the hotel's golf course ran right up to the edge of Dekes's property, which was cordoned off by a low stone wall. With a pair of binoculars, you'd be able to clearly see the hotel pool and the beach with its sunbathing beauties beyond. I imagined Dekes was the kind of man who enjoyed looking out over his little empire.
Roughly two hundred people were gathered around the pool already, while dozens more giant waiters moved through the crowd bearing trays of food and neon-colored drinks topped with tiny umbrellas and skewers of fresh lemons, limes, oranges, and pineapples. Despite the fact that this was officially a press conference, Dekes was still offering refreshments. Why, how very considerate of him. Or perhaps boozy journalists just led to more flattering coverage.
I grabbed a glass of gin mixed with grapefruit juice from one of the waiters and strolled around the pool, looking for my friends and enemy for the afternoon.
Owen, Finn, and Bria stood in a ring of people, sipping champagne. As usual, my foster brother was in the middle of the group, regaling the onlookers with one bawdy, boisterous story after another. Bria slouched next to him, looking a little bored, while Owen stood next to her, scanning the crowd just like I was.
Our eyes met, violet on gray. Heat shimmered in Owen's gaze, along with concern. Despite my breezy assurances to Callie that I could handle Dekes, Owen and I both knew how dangerous the vampire was. You didn't amass as big a fortune and survive in the underworld as long as Dekes had without having a few aces up your sleeve. As always, my lover's worry touched me, as did his willingness to let me do what needed to be done. Donovan had never looked at me the way Owen did, and he certainly would never understand me like Owen did. After our confrontation in Callie's office, I knew that more than ever.