Venom Page 12

I raised my eyebrows. “And let you get a good look at my face? I think not, detective.”

  She smiled again. “Can’t blame me for trying.”

  “Of course not,” I replied. “So is this the part where you tell me what a bad, bad girl I’ve been, murdering people for something as common as money? Vow to bring me to justice no matter what and do the whole honorable cop shtick?”

  Bria shrugged and winced at the pain the motion brought along with it. “Why would I do that? If it wasn’t for you, I’d be dead right now. Beaten to death by Slater and his men. Believe me, I’m grateful for the intervention, even if it is by a self-proclaimed angel of death.”

  Well, that certainly wasn’t the answer I’d been expecting. Donovan Caine would have already been planning which cell to stick me in down at the police station. Seemed my sister’s morals were a little bendier than the detective’s. But what surprised me more than her attitude was the emotion her words stirred in me—hope. Hope that maybe one day I could tell Bria who I really was and what I’d had to do to stay alive over the years—and that she would accept me despite all the bad things I’d done. And what I was prepared to do now to keep her, Finn, and the Deveraux sisters safe from Mab Monroe, Elliot Slater, and anyone else stupid enough to threaten them.

  Fucking hope. Next thing you’d know, I’d be getting soft and sentimental and teary-eyed over puppies and kittens and rainbows.

  “So you’re okay with your savior being a bona fide assassin?” I asked.

  Bria shrugged and winced again. “You saved me for whatever reason. I’m not prepared to think too much about it tonight. I know there are worse things, worse people in the world. I’ll stop them first. Then, when that’s done, maybe I’ll get around to you—”

  That was all Bria got out before the blood loss caught up to her, and she toppled over in a dead faint.

  12

  “Knock, knock,” Finn called out as he opened the front door to Bria’s house. “Honey, I’m home—” He stopped at the sight of me kneeling over Bria’s inert body. “What happened to her?”

  “She passed out from the pain and blood loss,” I said.

  “Good thing,” Finn replied. “Seeing as how we have company.”

  He stepped to one side, and Sophia and Jo-Jo Deveraux entered the living room. The two dwarven sisters stood in the doorway and surveyed the destruction and dead bodies in front of them. Sophia wore a pair of thick, black coveralls and heavy boots, while Jo-Jo was clad in a pink robe that looked fuzzier and softer than a baby’s blanket. The older dwarf had stuck her feet into a matching pair of house shoes. She wasn’t wearing socks, though, despite the chill of the December night.

  Jo-Jo let out a low whistle. “Finn told Sophia that you’d made a mess, but I didn’t think it would be quite this bad, Gin.”

  “You know me. I never do anything halfway,” I quipped. “Now, come over here and see to Bria before she gets any worse.”

  Sophia pulled a pair of black rubber gloves out of one of the pockets on her coveralls and snapped them on with obvious relish. The Goth dwarf didn’t smile, not really, but there was definitely a sparkle in her black eyes and a lightness to her steps. She was eager, happy even, to get to her disposal work. At least I’d made someone’s night. Sophia dragged the bodies of the three dead giants over to the front door and flipped the couch back into its normal upright position. Then the Goth dwarf picked up Bria and put her on the sofa.

  Jo-Jo found a chair that hadn’t been splintered and carried it over so she could sit down and examine my blood-covered sister. Finn grabbed a tall lamp out of a corner and plugged it in so Jo-Jo could have enough light to see exactly what she was doing while she healed Bria. I moved around the living room, righting overturned furniture, picking up broken pieces of glass, stuffing the other splintered, bloody debris into some trash bags that I’d found under the kitchen sink.

  Sophia bent down, put one of the dead giants over her shoulder in a fireman’s carry, and got to her feet. The giant weighed several hundred pounds, but Sophia could have been carrying around a stuffed bunny rabbit for all the effort she seemed to be exerting.

  Still, I thought I’d be polite and see what I could do to aid the Goth dwarf. “Do you need any help with them? Carrying them outside? Or doing whatever you’re going to do to them?”

  Sophia gave me a flat look with her black eyes. “Nuhuh.” The dwarf’s grunt for no.

  With the giant still slung over her shoulder, Sophia opened the front door and stepped out into the dark night. Despite my curiosity about what the Goth dwarf did with the many bodies she disposed of, I didn’t follow her outside. Even though I knew that Jo-Jo Deveraux was the best Air elemental healer in Ashland, I didn’t want to leave Bria’s side. Not until the bullet holes in her had been sealed shut, and she was sleeping peacefully.

  “Nasty bit of business this is,” Jo-Jo murmured. “Bullet nicked one of her kidneys, among other things.”

  The middle-aged dwarf had already unwrapped the crude afghan bandage I’d wound around Bria’s midsection. Blood stained most of the fabric a dark crimson. Jo-Jo reached for her Air elemental magic, and her eyes began to glow a milky white in her face. The dwarf held her palm over Bria’s midsection.

  Air elementals could tap into all the natural gases in the air, including oxygen. That’s how they healed people—by forcing and circulating oxygen in, around, and through wounds, using all those helpful little air molecules to sew ripped, torn, and ruined flesh back together again.

  Jo-Jo reached for her Air magic again, and her palm began to glow the same milky white color as her eyes. The dwarf’s power always felt like hot tingles washing over me, like part of me had fallen asleep and was just waking up. Tonight was no exception. I gritted my teeth at the odd sensation.

  Jo-Jo’s magic didn’t cause me actual physical pain, not like being in the presence of Mab Monroe’s Fire power did. But it still made me uncomfortable. Air and Stone were opposing elements, just like Fire and Ice. Jo-Jo’s Air magic just felt strange to me, just like my Stone and Ice power would to her. The magical, elemental equivalent of nails on a chalkboard all the way around, as it were.

  Jo-Jo’s magic also made the silverstone spider rune scars on my palms itch and burn. Silverstone was a very special metal, capable of absorbing all kinds of elemental magic. In a way, silverstone was hollow, empty, and hungering for enough magic to fill it up. Lots of elementals had charms or medallions made out of the metal, in which they stored bits and pieces of their power. Sort of like magical batteries. My mother had used her snowflake rune that way. I eyed the primrose medallion that rested in the hollow of Bria’s throat. I wondered if she had learned how to do that trick too, along with booby-trapping her freezer.

  The primrose wasn’t the only silverstone Bria wore. I picked up her hand and looked at the three rings on her left index finger. They were nothing fancy, just three thin bands stacked on top of each other, although there seemed to be patterns in the metal. I squinted at the bands and realized that they had tiny runes carved into them. Small snowflakes ringed one of the bands, while ivy vines curled through another. The final ring, the top one on Bria’s finger, was stamped in the middle with a single spider rune—my rune.

  My heart twisted. Baby sister wore a ring, a symbol, for each of us. My mother, Eira’s, snowflake. Our older sister, Annabella’s, ivy vine. And my spider rune. Somehow I knew she wore them all the time, just like she did her own primrose medallion. She still remembered us, still remembered me, all these years after that horrible night. She remembered what I wished I could forget. I let out a tired breath and gently put Bria’s hand down by her side.

  Jo-Jo passed her hand over Bria’s midsection several times before releasing her grip on her magic. The milky white glow on her palm faded, and the dwarf’s eyes returned to their normal translucent color.

  “There,” she said. “Good as new.”

  I peered over the dwarf’s shoulder. Sure enough, the nasty hole in Bria’s side had
vanished, replaced by smooth, pink skin. Jo-Jo had also taken the time to get rid of the scrapes and bruises that had dotted my baby sister’s arms, hands, and face.

  “Thanks, Jo-Jo,” I said. “I’m sure Bria would tell you that too, if she were awake.”

  “No problem, darling.” Jo-Jo reached over and tucked a lock of Bria’s blond hair behind her ear. “After all, she’s family now.”

  For some reason, the dwarf’s soft words made me shiver.

  By the time Sophia dragged the remaining bodies outside and the rest of us straightened up as much of the bloody mess as we could, it was well after midnight. I hauled another garbage bag outside and dumped it in the plastic pickup container. My eyes scanned the darkness, but I didn’t see anyone or anything moving in the black night. Bria’s house was more than a half mile from the others at the end of the street. At this late hour, everyone else in the immediate vicinity had long ago retired to their bedrooms. Only a few security lights mounted over garages and outbuildings broke through the night. Low, thick clouds obscured the moon and stars, and a metallic scent filled the air that told me snow was on the way.

  But a couple inches of the white stuff wouldn’t be nearly enough to cover up the bloody bit of violence I’d done in Bria’s house tonight—and what I was planning to do to Elliot Slater as soon as I got the chance. I was going to make sure the giant got dead before he had the opportunity to hurt Bria or Roslyn Phillips again. And there were plenty of other people in Ashland who wouldn’t mind living in a world without Slater in it. All this pro bono work I was dabbling in really was turning into public service. The mayor so needed to give me a medal.

  As I peered into the night, the front door opened and Jo-Jo Deveraux stepped outside. The dwarf settled herself on the steps that led up to the porch, draping her fuzzy pink housecoat over her knees. I stood at the base of the steps and leaned against the handrail.

  “You did a good thing tonight, Gin,” Jo-Jo said. “Saving your sister like that.”

  I shrugged. “It wasn’t so much a good thing as it was sheer luck. I had no idea Slater was coming here to kill her. If Finn and I hadn’t been following him…” My voice trailed off.

  I didn’t want to think about how close I’d come to losing Bria again tonight. That I’d almost missed my chance to get to know her again before I’d even been ready to take it in the first place, to risk telling her who and what I really was. My sister might be a stranger to me now, but I couldn’t let go of the memory of the sweet little girl she’d once been—a girl that I would have done anything to protect. Back then and especially now.

  Besides, Fletcher Lane had left me a photo of her for a reason. The old man had wanted me to find Bria, to get to know her again. Even if I hadn’t wanted to do those things on my own, I would have gone through with them just to honor Fletcher’s wishes. He’d done so much for me over the years. I was going to do everything I could for him now—even if he was cold, dead, and buried.

  I shook my head and chased away my melancholy thoughts. Fletcher Lane was gone. Mooning about his murder once more wasn’t going to bring him back. Right now, I needed to focus on the problem in front of me—Elliot Slater and his amazing quickness. So I told Jo-Jo how fast the giant was and asked if perhaps Slater was using some sort of elemental magic that I couldn’t sense to help his fists connect with my ribs. The dwarf frowned for a few seconds, thinking.

  “It’s possible,” Jo-Jo said. “But to do what you’re describing, Slater would have to be doing one of two things. One, he’d have to be an Air elemental and using his magic to affect the gases in the air. Air has weight, you know, even though we don’t usually realize that it does. Slater could be using his power to move the air, the molecules, out of his way so he has less resistance to go through when he swings his fists. Simple physics, really.”

  “And two?” I asked.

  “He’d have to be an Ice elemental and using his power to momentarily freeze his opponents. Using just enough magic to give himself that second’s advantage, that seeming bit of speed,” Jo-Jo said. “But I don’t think he’s an elemental.”

  “Why not?”

  Jo-Jo shrugged. “Because those are both very, very subtle skills that would take years to master. Elliot Slater doesn’t strike me as having that much patience. Besides, given your high sensitivity to elemental magic, Gin, you’d still be able to feel him using his power, even if there was only a teaspoon of it in his whole body. More than likely, Slater’s quickness is just a genetic quirk that he’s honed over the years. There are very few people who can use elemental magic without others sensing it.”

  For a moment, a distant light flashed in the dwarf’s pale eyes, as though she was thinking about something that had happened a long time ago. Maybe it was the droop of her shoulders or the way Jo-Jo fingered her string of pearls, but something about the dwarf’s last words bothered me—and her too.

  “Do you know anybody who can completely hide their elemental magic from others, even while they’re embracing or using it?” I asked in a soft voice.

  Jo-Jo’s eyes cleared, and she gave me a small, sad smile. “Just one person. Although, I think you could do it too, Gin, if you really needed to.”

  I blinked. “Me?”

  Jo-Jo nodded. “You.”

  The dwarf looked at me, a knowing light in her eyes, and I shifted on my feet. Jo-Jo Deveraux claimed that I was one of the strongest elementals she’d ever met, a notion that always made me uncomfortable. My mother had been an extremely strong Ice elemental, and yet all her magic hadn’t saved her from a horrible, fiery death at the hands of Mab Monroe. My sister Annabella’s magic hadn’t done her any good against Mab either. And Bria would have been dead, beaten to death by Elliot Slater, if Finn and I hadn’t intervened tonight.

  So while Jo-Jo might claim that I was strong enough that my Stone and Ice magic would never fail me, I didn’t really believe the dwarf. Which is why I carried so many silverstone knives. Sure, blades might break, but they always left some sort of jagged edge behind that I could shove and twist into someone’s flesh.

  Once you were out of magic, you were done for. Especially if the person you were fighting still had some juice left. Hence the fact that so many elementals died in duels. Elementals fought by flinging raw magic at each other—Air, Fire, Ice, and Stone—until somebody ran out of power, strength, will. When that happened, the other elemental’s magic washed over the loser. Lose an elemental duel, and you were going to get suffocated, burned, frozen, or perhaps even entombed in your own skin.

  Either way, you got dead. Just like my mother and older sister had, thanks to Mab Monroe and her Fire power.

  “Come on,” I said, pushing away my troubling thoughts. “It’s getting cold out here. Let’s go back inside.”

  Jo-Jo got to her feet, and I opened the door for her. We stepped into the living room, and I stopped short. A few minutes ago, large, sticky patches of blood had covered the hardwood floor like a new coat of varnish. But now the golden wood looked pristine. Sophia Deveraux was down on her hands and knees, gloves off, scrubbing at one last spot. But instead of using a rag or brush, the Goth dwarf slowly moved her bare finger back and forth over the bloodstain, staring at the spot as though she could burn it away with her mind or some hidden magic deep inside her.

  And that’s exactly what she was doing.

  Sophia made one pass with her finger, and the blood under her hand dried. On the second pass, the stain looked brittle, as though it had been on the floor for years instead of just an hour. Sophia kept casting her finger back and forth over the stain with slow, precise movements. While I watched, the bloodstain underneath her hand turned a rusty brick color, then a pale pink. A minute later, the wood gleamed with its original golden hue as though the blood had never even been there at all.

  I’d been right when I’d thought that the Goth dwarf had the same kind of Air elemental magic that her older sister Jo-Jo did. But instead of healing, instead of mending all those tiny molecule
s back together, Sophia used her power to tear them apart, to break them down and then slowly sandblast them away into nothingness. I imagined she could do the same to just about anything that crossed her path—blood, bones, bodies.

  But the most amazing thing was that I didn’t feel her using the slightest bit of elemental magic.

  Sophia’s black eyes didn’t spark and flash with power the way that so many elementals’ eyes did. The tip of her finger didn’t glow. Her skin didn’t become pale, chalky, or sweaty. Hell, she didn’t look like she was exerting any effort at all. Sophia’s Air elemental power was completely self-contained—and completely undetectable.

  Sophia sat back on her heels and nodded, pleased by another job well done.

  I looked at Sophia, then at Jo-Jo. “Just one person, huh?”

  Jo-Jo’s lips turned up in that sad smile again. “Just one. A skill she learned out of necessity rather than by choice.”

  I thought about asking Jo-Jo what she meant by that cryptic remark, but she went over to Sophia and patted her sister on the shoulder. Sophia glanced up, smiled, and squeezed her big sister’s hand. Some emotion passed between them that I couldn’t quite identify. Pride perhaps, tinged with sorrow. Whatever it was, I wasn’t going to interrupt it tonight.

  The sisters always came when I needed them. That’s all that mattered, and that’s all I needed to know. They’d tell me the rest in time. When they were ready. Besides, I wasn’t exactly the most forthcoming person, especially when it came to my emotions.

  I glanced to my right. Finn paced back and forth in front of the fireplace, his cell phone stuck to his ear. Bria rested on the couch, sleeping off the effects of being healed by Jo-Jo. My sister looked like an angel relaxing there on the sofa—despite the clumps of blood that had matted in her shaggy hair.

  “I see. I owe you one. Thanks. Bye.” Finn snapped his phone shut and turned toward me. “Good news. One of my sources says that Elliot Slater’s gone home to lick his wounds for the rest of the night.”