Elemental Assassin 03 - Venom

that the giant was stalking the vampire.”
    “Still,” Jo-Jo said. “It’s something that Fletcher Lane would have done. I’m sure wherever he is, he’s looking down and smiling at you, Gin.”
    I thought of the old man, of the file of information that he’d left me on my murdered family, about the fact that he’d gotten Bria to come back to Ashland to look for me. Jo-Jo was right. I felt like I was following in Fletcher’s footsteps in a weird sort of way. The old man had done pro bono jobs for folks. Now I was doing one for the whole city of Ashland.
    “You know what?” I replied. “I think you’re right.”
    I dropped my head back down against the headrest. “Now, use your mojo to get me up and around again. I need to go see a man about some swords.”
    Jo-Jo smiled. “With pleasure, darling. With pleasure.”
    I knocked on Owen Grayson’s front door just as the sun rose over the eastern mountains. I’d just let go of thehammer knocker and stepped back when he threw open the door and stuck his head outside. Owen wore a baby blue shirt that made his eyes seem more blue than violet in the gray dawn. His clothes were rumpled, as if he’d spent the night in them.
    Owen’s eyes widened at the sight of me, and his violet gaze took in my disheveled appearance, bloody clothes, and the two swords that I held out in front of me. After Jo-Jo healed me, I could have gone home, changed, and showered. Probably should have.
    But the blood was part of me, part of who I was and what I did. If things were going to work between Owen and me, he had to realize what being with me really meant—and he had to accept me for who and what I was. Donovan Caine hadn’t been able to do that. Now I was going to see if Owen Grayson ever could.
    “Hi there,” I said in a low voice.
    “Hi yourself,” Owen replied. He looked at my bloody clothes once more before his eyes lifted to my face. “Long night?”
    I shrugged. “You could say that. I wanted to come by and apologize. I think I might have scared Eva a little last night when I came over. But there was an emergency, and I didn’t have time to explain things to her. I also brought your swords back.”
    I held out the weapons to him. They were just as bloody as my clothes. So I stood there, and I waited. Because now it was Owen’s turn to make a decision.
    He stared at me again, taking in my bloody black clothes before he slowly reached forward and took the swords out of my hand. Owen looked at first oneweapon, then the other. Dried blood gleamed like dull red ink on both of the blades, making it ever so obvious what I’d done with them during the long night. That I’d used them to cut and hurt and wound and kill. It was one thing to make weapons. Quite another to see their brutal application in the harsh light of a new day.
    For a moment I thought that Owen would turn around, go inside, and shut and lock the door on me. That’s what Donovan Caine had done, only he’d been the one to leave instead of me. But to my surprise, Owen nodded his head, then looked up and gave me a small smile.
    “Come on,” he said in a low voice. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
    Owen stepped forward, slipped his warm hand into my cold one, and pulled me inside.
    He led me back to his study, where he laid the weapons inside the door. Then, his hand still in mine, he walked us down another hallway. He opened a door, and I stepped into what was obviously his bedroom. My stomach tightened with anticipation.
    But instead of leading me over to the bed with its black silk sheets, Owen took my hand once more and pulled me into the next room, the master bath. I eyed the gray marble and granite that made up the enormous room. The shower was large enough for four people and even came complete with its own seats, each one surrounded by several jets of water. A place to relax and let the scalding streams pound into your muscles, if you so wished. All around me, the smooth stones whispered of water, heat, relaxation.
    Owen Grayson didn’t say a word as he reached into theshower and turned on the water. I started to take off my blood-crusted vest, but he stepped in front of me.
    “Let me,” he said.
    He slowly unzipped the silverstone vest and gently dropped it on the floor. His strong, capable hands pulled my black turtleneck up out of my jeans, and I obediently raised my arms over my head so he could get it off me. My boots and socks were next, followed by my jeans. Owen did all the work,