Elemental Assassin 03 - Venom

succession, but he made no move to leave.
    “What is he waiting for?” I murmured. “Christmas?”
    “I don’t know,” Finn replied.
    We sat there and watched Slater smoke. About five minutes later, a black Hummer stopped in front of the restaurant. Slater crushed out his cigar and climbed into the back of the vehicle. Finn and I slid lower in our seats as the Hummer roared down the street past us.
    Finn let the driver get a block away before sitting up and cranking the Aston’s engine. He turned to me and grinned. “Care to follow the white rabbit down his hole?”
    “Sure,” I replied. “Let’s see what kind of late-night errand the giant is doing for Mab Monroe—and how we can fuck it up.”
    * * *

    Finn hung back at a discreet distance, and we followed the Hummer through the downtown district. The vehicle took one of the on ramps to the interstate, so Finn was able to blend in with the rest of the evening’s traffic.
    “Looks like they’re headed for Northtown,” Finn murmured.
    Ashland might sprawl over the mountainous region where Tennessee, Virginia, and North Carolina met, but the city was really divided into two sections—Northtown and Southtown. The Pork Pit and Ashland Community College lay close to Southtown, which was home to the disenfranchised, down-on-their-luck, and dregs of society. Junkies, vampire hookers, and homeless bums wandered the Southtown streets, along with menial, blue collar workers barely eking out a living.
    Northtown was a different story with its cutesy subdivisions, cookie-cutter homes, and sprawling estates. That was the part of the city that the white-collar yuppies and moneyed, social, and magical elite called home. But that didn’t make that part of Ashland any less dangerous. I’d rather face down a dozen junkies than have to put up with a self-important yuppie snob who thought he was better than me just because he had little logos on his polo shirts and chinos.
    “It’s not terribly surprising that Slater’s headed to Northtown,” I told Finn. “Northtown folks are the only ones rich and dumb enough to make trouble for Mab Monroe.”
    “Yeah, Mab just ignores Southtown trash like us.” Finn snorted.
    I smiled. “Going to be the death of her. One day real soon.”
    Finn stared at me out of the corner of his eye. After a moment, he shook his head and returned my sly smile.
    The Hummer carrying Slater and his cohorts got off the interstate. Finn slowed down and followed the black vehicle. The Hummer rumbled past a couple of cobblestone shopping malls filled with pretentious bookstores, overpriced coffee bars, and designer clothing shops. There was just enough late-night traffic to keep us from being spotted. Not that I really cared if Slater realized we were following him. If the giant stopped and confronted us, well, I’d solve Roslyn Phillips’s problem on the pavement, witnesses be damned.
    But the giant was far too busy plotting his foul deed for the evening to notice us tailing him, because the Hummer never slowed down or did any sort of evasive maneuvers. After about twenty minutes of driving, the massive vehicle turned into a subdivision. A spotlight on the brick entrance highlighted the name—Paradise Park. Finn waited until the Hummer had made the turn into the subdivision before killing the lights on his Aston Martin and following.
    I peered at the houses we passed. Mostly two-story affairs with wide porches. Roomy enough for a family, but not enormous. Swing sets, plastic castles, and other toys littered most of the sloping lawns.
    “Not as nice as I’d expect for someone causing trouble for Mab Monroe,” I said. “These are middle-class homes, not McMansions.”
    Finn shrugged. “Doesn’t matter either way, does it? We’re here to watch Slater, not Mab’s target.”
    I returned his shrug. “Not really.”
    A block ahead, the Hummer’s taillights flared red in the darkness. The vehicle made a final turn, coasted halfway down the street, then stopped. I peered out my window. Unlike the other jam-packed avenues in the subdivision, this one only featured two houses sitting on opposite sides of the corner. The Hummer sat several hundred yards away from each one. What was going on? Did Elliot Slater need his exercise or something? Was the giant going for a jog out in the suburbs?
    “I wonder why they’re stopping here,” Finn murmured, voicing my silent question.
    “No idea. Let’s find out.”
    I picked up a pair of