I thought of the way Benson had kept staring at me and the feel of that invisible sandpaper scraping against my skin. So I’d been right, and he’d been trying to sense my emotions, trying to rile me up so he could tear the anger out of me, along with my Ice and Stone magic.
I tapped my fingers against the cold bar. “He must have some special form of Air magic, maybe one that only vampires have and that they can only use in this one particular way, for him to be able to rip out people’s emotions with just a touch of his hand. I’ll have to ask Jo-Jo about it—”
The beep of a car horn outside the club, along with the screech of tires on the pavement, cut off my words. Roslyn and I looked at each other. Someone wanted to get in here in a hurry.
“Get down!” I hissed. “Behind the bar!”
Roslyn stopped long enough to yank her shotgun out of its slot, then disappeared behind the thick, glittering sheet of elemental Ice. I grabbed my knife off the bar and raced toward the front of the club, plastering myself up against the wall inside the entrance.
I’d barely gotten into position when the doors burst open, and three figures rushed inside, all with guns in their hands.
•
Two men and a woman raced by my position, and I let them go, instead of stepping out of the shadows and confronting them. I didn’t want to get shot by accident. The three figures were so focused on what was up ahead in the club that they never even noticed me lurking behind them. I slid my knife back up my sleeve and followed them at a more sedate pace.
Xavier, Bria, and Finn skidded to a halt and took up a position so that they were back-to-back-to-back in the middle of the dance floor, their guns up, their eyes cutting left and right, looking for enemies.
“Roslyn!” Xavier called out.
“Here! I’m here!” Roslyn replied, standing up behind the Ice bar.
Xavier went over and grabbed her in a fierce hug, lifting her off her feet with one arm before he set her back down. He holstered his gun, cradled her face in his hands, and started whispering to Roslyn, who kept nodding, trying to convince him that she was fine.
“Where’s Gin?” Finn asked.
“On your blind side,” I drawled. “Just like always.”
I stepped out onto the dance floor where he could see me. Finn lowered his gun and raised his eyebrows at me in a silent question. I nodded back, letting him know that I was okay.
“What about Benson?” Bria demanded. “Where is he?”
She snapped her gun from one side of the club to the other, as if she thought that Benson was still here and going to leap out from behind the red velvet curtains so she could shoot him.
“Glad to know that you’re so concerned about my safety,” I drawled again. “Roslyn’s too.”
Bria dropped her gun to her side and let out an exasperated breath. “Of course I’m glad that you guys are okay. It’s just that when Finn called, I thought . . .”
“That this was your big chance to finally nail Benson,” I finished. “Yeah, I think we all got that message loud and clear.”
A guilty blush stained Bria’s cheeks. The pale pink tint of her skin reminded me of Benson’s teeth. But she didn’t deny my accusation as she holstered her weapon. “So what happened?”
I had opened my mouth to tell her when Finn held up his index finger.
“Uh-uh,” he said. “No way am I settling in for some bloody, gory, long-winded story involving Gin and a bunch of drug-dealing vamps unless I have a drink in one hand and many more already arrayed on the bar in front of me.”
I rolled my eyes, while Bria gave Finn a sour look, but, as always, he was oblivious to our dirty glances. He wandered behind the bar and started perusing the bottles of liquor.
I took a seat at the corner of the bar, with Bria, Xavier, and Roslyn sitting close to me. Finn decided to play the role of bartender, shrugging out of his navy suit jacket and rolling up the sleeves of his white shirt. Then he went to work, pulling bottle after bottle off the shelves, flipping them around in his hands, spinning them behind his back, and showing off his cocktail-making skills. A few minutes later, Finn set our drinks on the bar, including another gin and tonic for me and mojitos for Bria and Roslyn. He poured himself and Xavier each a generous amount of Scotch.
“Manly drinks for manly men,” Finn said, winking at Xavier.
Roslyn snorted, leaned across the bar, grabbed Finn’s Scotch, and downed it.
“Hey!” Finn cried out. “I was going to drink that.”
Roslyn gave him a sweet smile and pushed the mojito over to him. “Trust me. I need it more than you do. You can have the girlie drink instead.”
Finn stared at the drink, then shrugged, picked it up, and started sipping it. “I do make a fine mojito.”
“Enough, already,” Bria snapped.
She pulled a notebook out of her back pocket, along with a pen she clicked on, ready to take notes. Her movements reminded me of Benson’s when he’d recorded the aftermath of Troy’s murder.
“What happened with Benson?” she growled. “I want all the details. Don’t leave anything out, no matter how small.”
I raised my eyebrows, but Bria kept staring at me. She wasn’t going to give any ground, not when it came to this. So I told her, Xavier, and Finn everything that had happened, with Roslyn chiming in too. When Roslyn and I finished, everyone was silent.
Finally, Bria turned her gaze to me, her blue eyes bright and accusing. “And you just let Benson walk out of here? And his men take the body with them?”
“What was I supposed to do?”
She slid off her stool and threw her hands out wide. “What you usually do. What you always do. Slice him open with your knives and wait for me and Xavier to come clean up the mess.”
Her snarky words stung, but they were all too true. Bria and Xavier had taken care of more than one sticky situation I’d left behind as the Spider. I tried to rein in my temper, since I knew that she was hurting, but I found myself sliding off my own stool, crossing my arms over my chest, and staring her down.
“I never thought you minded doing that before,” I said.
Roslyn, Xavier, and Finn looked back and forth between Bria and me. None of them moved, and none of them said a word.
Bria snorted. “Yeah, because it’s so easy to explain away multiple bodies, two or three or even four a week, all of them not-so-shockingly clustered around the Pork Pit.”
Finn winced at that. Yeah. Me too.
“I still don’t understand, though,” she continued. “Benson threatened you and me too. You’ve killed people for less. So why didn’t you take him out?”