In all the years I'd known her, I could count on one hand the number of times that I'd seen Jo-Jo cry, and most of those had been before, during, and after Fletcher's funeral. My heart ached for her, but I didn't know what to do. I didn't know what to say or how to comfort her in the face of her tears, her trembling body, and the worry swimming in her clear eyes.
"Don't think about it right now," I said. "Sophia and I both made it back, and we're all safe now. Once cooper gets the hang of his magic, he can finish healing you, and then we'll all be back to - "
I bit down on my lip, choking on my own words. I had started to say normal , but that wasn't the right thing to say, because we wouldn't be back to that for a long time, if ever. I'd never been one to sugarcoat things, but right now, I wanted to ease Jo-Jo's mind more than anything else. If I could have reached inside her, scooped out her hurt, and shoveled it into my own heart, I would have - and Sophia's too.
"It's not over," Jo-Jo said, finally wiping away her tears.
"Not by a long shot."
"No," I replied. "It's not."
"He's never going to stop," Jo-Jo said. "Not now. Not after you got Sophia away from him again. Not after you've embarrassed him. He'll have to come after you to save face with his men and Hazel too. But more than that, he'll want to come after you. He'll want to teach you a lesson."
"I know," I said. "I know that he'll come after me, that he'll come after all of us."
"Now what?" Sophia asked, her voice even harsher than before and full of worry.
I leaned forward and looked at Sophia, then Jo-Jo, letting them see the determination in my wintry gray eyes - and the cold, cold promise of death.
"We let him come to us," I said. "And then we kill him."
Chapter Twenty-seven
cooper finished healing Owen, and we all moved on to the things that we needed to do next. Finn and Phillip left to go see what they could dig up on Grimes from their various underworld contacts and to find out if anyone had heard a whisper of what had happened on the mountain. Bria headed to the police station to do the same.
Roslyn went with her, so she could fill Xavier in on everything that had happened. Sophia helped Jo-Jo to one of the upstairs bedrooms, so they could both get some rest.
Rosco finally woke up and followed them, his toenails clicking against the floor, and cooper went to his own room to rest himself.
Meanwhile, I took a long, hot shower, slathered some more of Jo-Jo's healing salve onto my lingering wounds, and changed into a pair of shorts and a T-shirt that Bria had left at cooper's for me. I headed back downstairs to find Owen in the den, staring through the glass door into the backyard. He too had showered and changed and looked as handsome as ever in a black T-shirt and khaki shorts.
He turned at the sound of my bare feet softly slapping against the floor. "You look more like your old self."
"So do you."
He nodded. "I was waiting for you to finish in the shower so I could tell you that I'm heading over to country Daze with Warren and Eva. They're waiting in the truck for me. Warren wants to check on Violet and make sure that he's there in case any of Grimes's men come into the store for supplies."
I nodded. "Just be careful."
"We will."
He hesitated, then gestured at a case on the coffee table that I hadn't noticed before. The top of the case was open, revealing a layer of black foam and my five silverstone knives gleaming inside. The ones that Owen had made for me, the ones that contained my magic, the ones that I'd given to him on the ridge.
The ones that I never thought I'd see again.
"I thought you might want these back," Owen said in a low voice. "Especially if Grimes somehow tracks Sophia and Jo-Jo here."
I hadn't cried when Jo-Jo had been shot and Sophia had been kidnapped. When I'd seen Sophia being tortured. When Grimes and Hazel had thrown their Fire magic at me. When their men had chased me through
the woods like an animal. I hadn't even cried when I'd jumped off that cliff, knowing that I would probably die from the fall.
But the simple sight of my knives and the spider runes glimmering on the hilts made my throat close up, and I had a hard time holding back the hot tears that pooled in my eyes. I went over, sat down in front of the table on the floor, and traced my fingers over the blades, letting the cold, smooth feel of the weapons ground me and help me get my emotions back under control.
"Thank you," I finally managed to whisper, still hunched over the knives and staring at them instead of him. "For keeping them safe for me."
"You're welcome," Owen said, his own voice rough and hoarse. "But don't you ever give them to me like that again."
I nodded, the knot in my throat preventing me from speaking.
"I found this too."
His hand appeared at my elbow, and I realized that he was holding a small rock, one with my spider rune seared into the stone.
The smooth, round rock was light gray, with my rune etched on it in a slightly darker silver, almost like a brand.
I knew that if I compared it with the scar on my palm, it would be a perfect match.
"I found it on the top of the ridge that overlooked Grimes's camp," Owen said. "It was just lying there, along with all of the bodies of his men. From what you told me, I think this is the first rock that you touched, the one you started building all of that elemental Ice with."
I nodded and took it from him. The stone was surprisingly light in my hand and felt slightly chilled, as though it had absorbed some of my Ice magic. Perhaps the rock had a bit of silverstone running through it. After a moment, I set it down on the table, right next to the case of knives. I still didn't speak, though. I couldn't.
"I'll be back soon," he promised.
Owen touched my shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.
Then he opened the door and left. A minute later, an engine rumbled to life in the front of the house before the sound slowly faded away.
I shuddered out a breath, reached into the case, and pulled out one of my knives. The metal felt cool to the touch, given the Ice and Stone magic stored inside the silverstone. I rubbed my thumb over the spider rune stamped into the hilt, that small circle surrounded by eight thin rays.
When I felt calm enough, I grabbed another knife out of the case and got to my feet. Then I started twirling the weapons, spinning the metal blades around and around, tossing them up into the air, and catching them as they plummeted back down to earth.
Faster and faster, higher and higher, I tossed the knives, until the blades seemed to float through the air like slender silver clouds. My gaze was locked on the spinning bits of sharp metal, but my mind was focused on something else entirely: the best way to go about killing Harley Grimes.