Elemental Assassin 01 - Spider's Bite

out in the open rather than have him be distracted by speculating about it. Especially when I needed Caine to focus on the matter at hand, which was finding the Air elemental so I could kill her. If the detective got all indignant and righteous about his slain partner, if he did something stupid, like go for his gun, I’d do him right here—no matter how much he might be able to help me. No matter how weary I might be of blood and death right now.
    Caine leaned forward. Disgust and hate burned like hot coals in his eyes. “You killed Cliff Ingles, my partner, a cop, and you come in here with a proposition for me? Are you crazy or just stupid?”
    “Neither. I hope you’re not too stupid to hear me out.” I also leaned forward, my eyes meeting his. The detective wasn’t the only one who could do the hard stare. “These people tried to kill me. That, I can understand. Being a target, being hit yourself, is a job hazard. But they weren’t content with just me. They killed my handler. Another one of my associates was almost beaten to death. In short, they framed me and then tried to tie up the loose ends. They crossed the line, even among murderers.”
    Caine snorted again. “Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?”
    “No,” I replied. “I don’t want or need your sympathy. What I’m offering you is my help, detective.”
    He leaned back in the booth, studying me, trying to read my eyes and face. But I’d learned a long time ago to keep my expression as blank as a piece of slate. Say nothing, do nothing, give nothing away you didn’t want or have to.
    “Even if I were able to overlook the fact you murdered my partner and consider your offer, what would I get in return? Besides a knife in the back?”
    I ignored his snide comment. “I have some information that might be useful in tracking down who’s behind the Gordon Giles hit. It’s not much, but it’s a place to start. Agree to work with me, feed me any leads or theories you have, and I’ll give my information to you—along with my other services. For free. A tit-for-tat situation.”
    His eyes flicked to my breasts again before coming back to my face. “Other services?”
    “You’re going to need help tracking down the people who did this—and dealing with them.”
    Another snort. “Lady, I’m a cop. I can deal with these people on my own.”
    My turn to scoff. “Really? Is that why Captain Stephenson did all the talking at the press conference outside the opera house? Is that why he stopped you from answering any questions? Is that why I’m being blamed for Gordon Giles’s murder, even though we both know I was fishing myself out of the Aneirin River when he was killed in that fake car accident? Face it, Caine, the whole Ashland police department is as dirty as a pair of three-week-old gym socks. Present company excluded, of course.”
    He didn’t say anything.
    I drew in a breath. “I had the chance to question some folks I ran into last night. Some of the people involved in this conspiracy. They all said the same thing. That somebody, some cop in the department, was helping them. Think about it. How quickly things happened. How fast my supposed connection to Giles was discovered, and my sketch plastered on television. And then there’s you, detective. That guy outside of the box wasn’t just going to pop Giles. He was going to do you, too. You have to know that. And now you know somebody in your precious police department was in on it. That he was okay with you getting dead. Somebody doesn’t like you very much, detective.”
    Silence. Donovan Caine shifted in the booth. His index finger tapped out a pattern on the tabletop. A muscle twitched in his right cheek. He wanted to go for his gun. The desire to do it tightened his face, his whole body. His gaze flicked to the SUV outside, and he forced himself to keep his emotions in check. To relax an inch. I’d been right. Caine wasn’t the sort of cop who was okay with collateral damage. No matter how much he wanted to kill me right now.
    “Do you really think these people are going to stop whatever they’re doing just because I get arrested, put in jail, or killed? Not in this city. Not with Mab Monroe running things. She could be the one who wanted Gordon Giles dead in the first place, although I’ll admit it’s doubtful at best.”
    “Why?” he asked.
    “Because Mab Monroe tends to deal with these sorts of situations herself. It’s the only fucking thing I admire about