Business? What sort of business was he in? And what did it have to do with Mab?
He paused, as if he expected Jo-Jo to respond, but she kept silent.
"Anyway," he continued, "I finally managed to get myself in gear and come on back down to Ashland. I'd been meaning to for a while now. Ever since I heard that our mutual friend Mr. Lane had passed away last year. A shame, him being tortured to death like that."
I frowned. Fletcher's murder was no secret, but there was something ominous about the way the leader talked about him, as though the old man's death was something he'd been waiting for and looking forward to for a long, long time. He said that he'd known Jo-Jo some fifty years ago. Had he known Fletcher back then too? Had the two of them been enemies all these years?
Even more hate burned in Jo-Jo's eyes, making it look like she had two chunks of white quartz glowing in her face. "You're no friend of mine, Harley Grimes. You never were, and you never will be. So get out of my house. You weren't welcome back then, and you sure as hell aren't welcome now."
I kept my face blank, but my mind was spinning at the man's identity. Harley Grimes. I'd heard that name before, when Jo-Jo had told me how he'd kidnapped and tortured Sophia years ago. Grimes had even forced Sophia to breathe in elemental Fire, ruining her vocal cords.
My gaze snapped to Sophia, who was still lying on the floor. She stared back at me, and once again, I saw the fear in her eyes - fear not just for herself but for all of us.
She knew what Harley Grimes was capable of better than anyone.
So I turned my attention to the men surrounding us, looking for any weaknesses that I could exploit. A few seconds of inattention, a tremor in a gun hand, something, anything, that would give me an opening to attack - or at least let me put myself between Grimes and everyone else.
Grimes smiled again and let out a soft, sinister laugh.
"Of course I'll leave you in peace, Ms. Deveraux. I'm not a monster, after all. Besides, I've finally gotten what I came for - what you and Mr. Lane took from me all those years ago."
He turned away from Jo-Jo and jerked his head at the two men guarding Sophia. They reached down and hauled the Goth dwarf to her feet. Sophia winced and clutched a hand to her left thigh. Blood had soaked into her black jeans there, and more blood trickled out of the gunshot wound on her left arm, which peeked out from beneath her T-shirt sleeve. Grimes, Hazel, and their men must have jumped her somewhere, maybe in the alley behind the Pork Pit, and put a couple of bullets into her, trying to subdue her so they could kidnap her. Sophia must have managed to escape and had come to warn Jo-Jo. But Grimes had known exactly where she would go, and he'd followed her to finish what he'd started.
"Oh, Sophia," Grimes purred. "How I've missed you."
He stretched out a hand, as though he were going to caress her cheek, but Sophia snapped out, trying to bite off his fingers. Grimes snatched his hand back at the last second, his face full of disbelief, as though he didn't understand why she wouldn't welcome his touch after he'd had her shot and threatened her sister. He regarded her for a moment, then casually flung his hand out and slapped her across the face.
The sharp crack reverberated through the room like a clap of thunder, and the hard, brutal impact made Sophia stagger back, along with the two men holding her. Oh, yes. Grimes was definitely strong, thanks to his giant and dwarven blood.
But even worse, he put a bit of his Fire magic into the blow, and flames flashed between them as his skin touched hers. The stench of burning flesh filled the salon.
After a moment, Sophia slowly raised her head. The imprint of Grimes's hand had been seared into her left cheek like a brand.
Even more Fire magic flickered in his eyes, making them burn a dark, dangerous brown. "I'd hoped that we would start out on better terms this time, but I'm going to enjoy teaching you to mind your manners around me once again. It seems that you've forgotten."
Sophia's nostrils flared with rage, but that was her only response.
The man holding on to my arm winced at Grimes's threat, as though he'd been on the receiving end of his leader's wrath in the past. He was so busy staring at Grimes that he didn't notice when I eased my right hand behind me, reaching back toward the buffet table. My fingers slid across the smooth surface until I felt something cold, hard, and metal. I stretched back a bit more, hooking a fingertip on the edge of the metal and dragging it toward me.
My hand closed around my knife a second later. I tightened my grip, feeling the spider rune stamped into the hilt pressing against the larger, matching scar on my palm. Owen had made this knife for me, and I was going to enjoy putting it to good use on Grimes, Hazel, and their band of miscreants.
"You leave her alone, Grimes," Jo-Jo snarled. "Sophia doesn't belong to you. She never has, and she never will."
Grimes turned to face her again. "It seems that you've forgotten something too, Ms. Deveraux. That I take whatever I want, and that whatever I want is mine. And I've been missing Sophia for a very long time now."
"You aren't leaving here with her," Jo-Jo snarled again.
"Not as long as I'm still breathing."
Grimes regarded her for a long moment. "Well, I have to admire your protective instincts, if nothing else. But this problem has a very simple, very easy solution."
"And what would that be?" Jo-Jo asked.
He smiled, showing off his perfect teeth again. I knew what he was going to do, but before I could move, before I could react, before I could f**king stop it, Grimes reached into his suit jacket, pulled out a gun, and shot Jo-Jo in the chest.
Chapter Four
The bullet punching into Jo-Jo's body tore her loose from the men who'd been holding her. She gasped in pain, and her head snapped back against the wall, but she didn't go down.
So Grimes shot her again.
This time, Jo-Jo's bare feet slid out from under her, and she crumpled to the salon floor.
Bria, Sophia, and I all surged forward, struggling to get free of the men who were guarding us, but a ball of Fire magic flashed to life in Hazel's hand. She spun around in the middle of the salon, laughing, the skirt of her red dress rippling out around her like waves of blood.
"Give me a reason," she said, smiling at us all in turn, her magic making her eyes gleam with a dark, sadistic light. "Any reason at all."
I looked at Sophia, but she shook her head at me. She didn't want Bria or me to get shot - or worse, if Hazel had her way. I ground my teeth together in frustration, but I stopped fighting. I had my family to think about, and there was too much danger of Hazel burning Bria or