Elemental Assassin 02 - Web of Lies

colorless, like two cloudy pieces of quartz. Chantilly perfume ticked my nose as we walked through “Hell’s bells and panther trails,” Jo-Jo said in a soft a narrow hallway. A hundred feet later, the skinny corritone. “What happened to her?”
    dor opened up into an enormous room that took up the
    “She got on the wrong end of a dwarf’s fist—twice,”
    back half of the house.
    I said, shouldering part of Violet’s weight again. “Think Padded chairs. Hair dryers. Counters crammed full of you can fix her?”
    hairspray, nail polish, makeup, scissors, rollers, curling Jo-Jo studied the girl a moment more, then nodded. irons. A long mirror that ran down one wall. Towering
    “Darling, I can fix anything short of death. But this one stacks of beauty magazines. Photos of various hairstyles ain’t going to be pretty.”
    taped up everywhere. All that and more could be found in Jo-Jo’s beauty salon, the place where the Air elemental used her magic as a self-proclaimed drama mama —
    someone who catered to the endless vanity of Southern women.
    Debutantes, pageant contestants, bored trophy wives. Jo-Jo served them all in a variety of ways. Perms, cuts, dye Estep_Web of Lies_1P EP.indd 102-103
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    jobs, waxes, manicures, pedicures. If it had anything at
    “Sorry, dog,” I said. “Nothing in here for you.”
    all to do with beauty or making a woman’s hair twice as Rosco huffed in indignation, then dropped his brownbig, tall, and hard as her head, Jo-Jo did it in her salon. and-black head down on top of his tubby stomach and And then some. Air elemental magic was also terrific for went back to sleep. His favorite pasttime, other than eatfixing unwanted frown lines or putting someone’s boobs ing.
    back up to where they’d been ten years ago—temporarily, Jo-Jo pulled a chair over to Violet, clicked on a light, at least.
    and gently unwound my T-shirt strips from her face. The of course, turning back the clock wasn’t the only thing damage looked more garish underneath the white fluoJo-Jo did with her Air magic. The dwarf was also one of rescent glow. The swelling had already set in, and Violet’s the best healers in Ashland. Hell, the whole South. Few face had puffed up to twice its normal size. Black and people knew about her talents in that particular area, but green and purple streaked out from her disjointed nose Fletcher Lane had been one of Jo-Jo’s oldest friends, and and sliced across her cheeks—what I could see of them I’d inherited her, along with Sophia, when I’d taken over underneath the dried blood.
    his assassin business. one sister to heal me, the other to
    “Hell’s bells,” the dwarf muttered again. “You said he get rid of the bodies I left behind. A nice arrangement. only hit her twice?”
    Despite the sisters’ hefty fees.
    “Yeah,” Finn said, holding the broken glasses together
    “Put her in one of the chairs,” Jo-Jo directed before until the glue dried. “But he made them both count.”
    going over to the sink to wash her hands.
    Jo-Jo shook her head. “Well, let’s hope the poor girl Finn and I hauled Violet Fox over to one of the swivel, remains unconscious for the next little bit. Because putcherry-red salon chairs. Then Finn grabbed a bottle of ting her face back the way it’s supposed to be is going to nail glue off the counter, pulled Violet’s broken glasses be just as painful as what he did to her in the first place. out of his jacket pocket, and used the bonding solution No need to traumatize her more than she’s already been to put the two pieces back together. I lifted Violet’s purse tonight.”
    from around her neck, perched on a stool a few feet away, Jo-Jo examined Violet’s face another minute before she and started going through it. Wallet, keys, breath mints, went to work. She drew in a deep breath and held her loose change, eyedrops, a compact. Nothing unusual or hand in front of the girl’s ruined features. Her palm hovexciting. ered just above Violet’s skin. A second later, the dwarf’s A soft whine sounded in the corner. I looked over to eyes began to glow an opaque white, as though thick see Rosco, Jo-Jo’s fat, lazy basset hound, curled up in his clouds wisped through her bright gaze. A similar butterwicker basket by the door. The old dog eyed the purse in milk-colored glow coated her open palm. Jo-Jo brought my hands. His tail thumped once with hope. even more of her power