The giants waved their guns, and everyone shuffled forward, although most of them tried very hard not to actually look at Jillian, or what was left of her. Couldn't blame them for that. It even turned my stomach a little. Or perhaps that was just the guilt I felt, gnawing away at my insides.
"Now, I know she's not the nicest thing to stare at, but there's one more thing that's important about this woman," Clementine said. "One more thing that everyone here needs to know: her real identity. Because that's not just some tarted-up trophy wife or debutante doll lying there getting blood all over the floor. Oh, no. That, ladies and gentlemen, is none other than Gin Blanco. The Spider herself. Ashland's most infamous assassin. Deader than a fencepost."
More shocked gasps rippled through the crowd. I closed my eyes, the guilt rising in my throat and choking me from the inside out.
"Come one, come all. Don't be shy. Step right up and get a good long look at her. And think about this: me and my boys took out the Spider tonight. The toughest bitch in all of Ashland. Just like that." She snapped her fingers. "Now, if we can do that, why, just imagine what we could do to all of you."
While the crowd chattered and whispered at the giant's revelation, I forced myself to open my eyes and study Jillian. Made myself commit to memory every gruesome detail of her blown-off face and slack figure. The smooth skin of her shoulders compared with the ragged edges of her ruined face. The pretty, shimmering, constant twinkle of crystals on her skirt next to the absolute stillness of her leg. The blood still oozing out of her horrible wounds, the color a perfect match to the glossy polish gleaming on her manicured nails.
I stared at Jillian until the sight of her was burned into my brain, an image I would never, ever forget. And then I shifted the image, the memory, to the heavy load of guilt that was already yoked across my shoulders.
I couldn't bring Jillian back, but I could avenge her.
I could make Clementine realize what a stupid, sloppy, fatal mistake she'd made.
I was so wrapped up in my dark thoughts of guilt, rage, and revenge that it took me a moment to realize that my friends had forced their way to the front of the crowd.
Eva was the first to react, letting out a weak, strangled gasp and clamping her hands over her mouth. The rest of my friends wore similar stunned expressions as they stared down at the body.
I knew what the horrified looks meant: they all thought I was dead.
Chapter 8
Eva. Finn. Phillip. Roslyn. Owen. The realization hit all of them at about the same time. One second, they were trying not to look at the body like everyone else. The next, they couldn't stop staring at it, mouths open, eyes wide, features tight with shock and sorrow.
Roslyn immediately put her arms around Eva and turned the younger woman away from the horrible sight. Eva's shoulders shook, and a loud sob broke free from her lips before she could swallow it. Phillip turned away too, his lips curled in anger and disgust.
Owen kept staring at the body, his face blank and completely closed off. His eyes were empty, his gaze dull and far away, as if he was so shocked, so stunned, that he wasn't even really seeing what was in front of him. I couldn't tell what he was thinking. I couldn't tell what he was feeling. If he was absolutely horrified or just relieved that I was gone. I hoped - I hoped - that he at least cared, that he at least felt something, but I just couldn't tell what it might be, one way or the other.
And then there was Finn.
He had an entirely different reaction. Instead of shying away from the body, he moved even closer to it, stepping in front of Owen. Finn's green eyes narrowed, and he slowly, carefully, quietly examined the body from head to toe. His gaze lingered on Jillian's shoes, which peeked out from beneath the edge of her skirt, before going up to her hands. Finn leaned down, staring at one of Jillian's palms as though it held all the secrets of the universe.
I knew exactly what he was looking for: my spider rune scar.
When I was younger, the scars had been red, raw, and puckered, but over the years, they had slowly smoothed out and faded to a pale silver, given that they were really silverstone that had been melted into my palms. Everyone in the underworld might think that I was the Spider. They might recognize my rune and the fact that I took my assassin name from it, but none of them knew that the symbol was actually branded into my palms. Only my closest friends and family knew that story, and only they had ever seen the scars. Oh, I didn't try to hide the marks, not even when I was working at the Pork Pit, but unless you knew they were there, you wouldn't notice them. Besides, who ever bothered to look at the palms of someone else's hands?
After a moment, Finn's shoulders sagged, his face relaxed, and his jaw unclenched. He knew that it wasn't me lying there - that it was Jillian instead. I waited for my foster brother to turn and whisper the news to the others, but he didn't.
"See something you like?" Dixon called out, noticing Finn's interest in Jillian. "You one of those freaks who likes to get down and dirty with bodies?"
Finn slowly straightened up and looked at the giant. "Hardly," he drawled. "Although it's interesting that was the first thing you thought about me doing. Maybe that says something about your sexual preferences. Why, I bet that you're the one who likes to get his freak on with corpses. Who knows what you did with her before you so gallantly carried her in here?"
Dixon charged forward, his hand already dropping to the gun holstered on his belt. At the last second, Clementine held out her hand, stopping him. He looked at her, a clear plea in his eyes, but she slowly shook her head. It took him a moment, but Dixon swallowed his anger. She might be his aunt, but he didn't want to cross her.
Clementine gestured for one of her men to come over to her and whispered something in his ear. Dixon glared at Finn and slowly drew his finger across his throat in threat.
Finn, being Finn, puckered his lips and blew the giant a big, fat, sloppy kiss.
More anger stained Dixon's cheeks, breaking through his orange fake bake, but he didn't draw his gun. Instead, he just stared at Finn with murder in his eyes. After a few seconds, Clementine finished her conversation with the other giant and crooked her finger at her nephew. Dixon stepped closer to her. I let out a breath. If Finn didn't play nice, he was going to get himself shot before I could rescue him and the others.
Too bad I had no idea how I was going to do that.
I couldn't just leap over the balcony and start taking on giants. Not with only two knives. There were too many of them and too much of a chance of people getting hurt in the confusion and crossfire. Plus, I had no doubt that Clementine would have no qualms about killing as many of the hostages as it took in order to take me out.