Grimes's men one by one. And finally, his last battle with Grimes.
I had already killed Horace and Henry, Grimes's older brothers, and wounded Hazel, his younger sister, and I managed to trick Grimes himself into using up all of his Fire magic before I finally confronted him face-to-face.
We fought. He used his fists. I had my knives. It was a long, hard battle, but I was wearing him down and moving in for the kill when Hazel snuck up behind me and gutshot me with a pistol. I stabbed Grimes in the chest, but he ran away, and I knew that the wound wouldn't kill him - but that mine would if I didn't get to Jo-Jo in time.
So I left. I regret that. I should have stayed and finished the job, even if I would have died up there on the mountain with Grimes. At least then I would have known that Sophia and Jo-Jo were safe from him forever . . .
Fletcher went on to describe how he and Sophia had helped each other down the mountain and how they'd gotten back to his car and then over to Jo-Jo's house so she could heal them both. He also detailed some other skirmishes that he'd had with Grimes over the years, but by then, he'd had other things to think about - like me and Mab.
But the file contained other useful things, including a map of the mountain where Grimes made his home and detailed sketches of the camp itself. Apparently, Fletcher had trekked up there every single year to see
what Grimes was up to. His final trip had been in May of last year, several months before his death. That meant that the map and the sketches were more than a year old, but they would have to do. Besides, given the old-fashioned suit that I'd seen him wearing earlier and the fact that Fletcher's own maps didn't vary much year to year,
Grimes didn't strike me as the kind to change a lot about his home or his operations.
Still, as I read through all the information, it almost seemed like there was something missing. Some gap in his narrative, some small piece of information that Fletcher had decided not to include, for whatever reason. In certain places, it almost seemed as though someone else had to have been with Fletcher and Sophia on the mountain,
helping them, for him to be able to do what he did. For
the life of me, though, I couldn't imagine who it would
have been or why the old man would have left that person's involvement out of the file. I couldn't puzzle it out, so I moved on.
Finally, I came to the last thing in the file, a letter addressed to me. With shaking hands, I unfolded the single sheet of paper.
Grimes won't let Sophia go a second time. And he doesn't deserve to live after what he's done to her and so many others over the years. Finish what I started.
Kill him, Gin. For Sophia, for Jo-Jo - and for me too.
Be careful.
Love,
Fletcher
Those were the last words in the file, and I traced my fingers over them. The paper was smooth, but touching it calmed some of my anger and worry and made me feel like Fletcher was watching over me.
"consider it done," I murmured.
The old man didn't respond, of course, and the quiet of the house soaked up my whispered words, and I knew that he would have approved of what I was going to do.
Like I had told Finn, my plan was simple.
Save Sophia. kill Grimes. Stab to death anyone who got in my way.
I showered just long enough to wash the blood off me.
Then I geared up for my rescue mission.
Black hiking boots with reinforced steel toes, dark blue jeans, a tight fitted red tank top under a long-sleeved dark green T-shirt. In a few minutes, I'd transformed myself from spending a summer day at the salon into tackling a dangerous job in the forest as the Spider. Despite the fact that it was ninety degrees outside, I also put on a gray vest lined with silverstone. I'd seen how well-armed and trigger-happy Grimes and his men were, and the magical metal in the vest would stop any bullets that came whistling in my direction, along with absorbing some of Grimes's and Hazel's Fire magic, should they get the chance to use it on me.
I also made sure that I had plenty of knives. One up each sleeve, one at the small of my back, one tucked into each boot. My usual five-point arsenal, which I supple - mented by sticking a couple more knives into the various pockets on the front of my vest. I had a feeling that I'd need every single one of the weapons before this was all said and done.
When I was properly outfitted, I went downstairs to the den. It was a comfortable room and one that I spent a lot of time in, but I moved past the worn furniture and over to the fireplace. I reached up inside the chimney and pulled down a black backpack that I kept there in case of emergencies - like this one.
I unzipped the bag, which contained more knives, a couple of guns, silencers, and plenty of ammunition.
Making sure that the weapons were in working order, I inventoried the other items inside. climbing rope, some packets of dried food, a bottle of water, a few small tools, a hand-cranked flashlight, a pair of binoculars, waterproof matches, a couple of tins of Jo-Jo's healing ointment. Everything I should need to get up the mountain to Grimes's camp, rescue Sophia, and get back down again.
I threw Fletcher's folder of information into the top of the bag, then zipped it shut. I hefted the backpack onto my shoulder and started to leave the den, but a couple of sly wink-winks of silverstone caught my eye. I stopped and stared at the mantel above the fireplace.
A series of framed drawings were propped up there, the runes of my family, dead and alive. A snowflake and an ivy vine for my mom, Eira, and my older sister, Annabella. Bria's primrose rune. The neon pig sign outside the Pork Pit that I'd drawn in honor of Fletcher. A hammer, Owen's rune, representing strength, perseverance, and hard work.
The drawings were the same as always, but there were new additions on the mantel: two silverstone pendants, one snowflake and one ivy vine. My mother's and Annabella's runes. I'd draped the necklaces over their matching drawings, so that the two snowflakes and the two ivy vines were resting next to each other.
For years, I'd thought that the pendants had been lost forever, buried in the rubble of our mansion the night
Mab had murdered my mother and Annabella. But Mab had had the runes the whole time, and they'd been on display at Briartop, along with all of the Fire elemental's other treasured possessions. At least, until Owen swiped them from the museum and gave them to me, something that had touched me more than he knew. Probably more than anyone knew.
I reached out and touched first one rune necklace, then the other, my fingers trailing over the smooth, hard, cold metal. I'd already lost too many people I cared about.
I wasn't losing Sophia too. No matter what I had to do, what I had to suffer through, or what I had to sacrifice to get her back.
I looked at all the drawings and the necklaces in turn, fixing the runes in my mind, letting them remind me of exactly who and what I was fighting - and killing - for.