Elemental Assassin 04 - Tangled Threads

didn’t even bother talking to each other. Instead, all the singles, couples, and tight-knit groups stayed to themselves, leaving several feet of distance in between each one of them. Curious. Most curious indeed.
    Through the rifle scope, my eye went from one face to another, trying to get a sense of exactly whom Mab had invited to her shindig and why they were acting so strangely. I might not care what their names were or how much money they had, but I did want to know if any of them fancied themselves tough guys who might be a threat to me. Not that I was planning on sticking around after I took out Mab, but it never hurt to be prepared. Fletcher Lane, the old man who had been my mentor, had taught me that, among many other deadly things.
    Despite their tuxedos, gowns, and glittering jewels, every single one of the men and women had a tense, coiled, predatory air about them, and they all gave one another the same flat, hard stare, as if they were all competing for the same prize and would do anything to get it. A few of them actually eyed the silverware, as if they were thinking about picking up the knives, spoons, and forks, and thinning out the crowd a bit before the show got started.
    I frowned. Mab did business with all sorts of unsavory characters, but something about the people inside the dining room bothered me. Maybe because they all reminded me … of me. Gin Blanco. The Spider.
    Before I had time to think that thought through, thedouble doors opened again, and Mab Monroe stepped into the room.
    The Fire elemental strolled through the tense crowd until she reached the middle of the room. Everyone turned to stare at her, and what little conversation there was had stopped, like a radio that had been turned off mid-song. Like her guests, Mab had dressed up for the evening, in a long sea-green gown that complimented her pale skin. Her coppery red hair was piled on top of her head, each artfully arranged strand dripping down the sides of her face like so much blood. But the most striking thing about Mab were her eyes—two bottomless black pools that seemed to suck up all the available light in the room instead of reflecting it back. Even the bright chandeliers overhead seemed to dim as she had passed underneath them.
    The severe V in the front of Mab’s gown showed off her creamy décolletage, as well as the necklace that she wore. A flat gold circle encased the Fire elemental’s neck, accentuated by a ruby set into the middle of the design. Several dozen wavy golden rays surrounded the bloodred gem, and the intricate diamond cutting on the metal caught the light and reflected it back, making it look as if the rays were flickering.
    The flamboyant ruby-and-gold design was much more than just a mere necklace—it was a rune. A sunburst. The symbol for fire. Mab’s personal rune, used by her alone. Runes were how elementals and other magic types in Ashland identified themselves, their families, their power, their alliances, and even their businesses to others.
    I had a rune, too. A small circle surrounded by eightthin rays. A spider rune. The symbol for patience and my assassin name. Actually, I had two runes—one branded into either palm. The marks had been put there by Mab the night she’d murdered my family. That’s when the Fire elemental had tortured me by duct-taping a silverstone medallion shaped like the spider rune in between my two hands and then superheating the metal with her magic until it had melted into my flesh, marking me forever.
    The sight of Mab and her flashing sunburst necklace made the spider rune scars on my palms itch and burn, the way they always did whenever I was around the Fire elemental, but I didn’t move from my position. Didn’t rub my hands together to make the uncomfortable sensation go away. Didn’t let out a tense sigh. Hell, I didn’t even blink.
    Killing Mab was much more important than the memories that filled my mind or the pain that they brought me, even now, seventeen years after the fact. Now was not the time to be sentimental or sloppy. Not when I had a chance to kill the bitch, to finally end our family feud—once and for all.
    Inside the dining room, Mab turned in a circle, her black eyes roaming over her guests, sizing them up just like I had.
    “I’m glad to see that you all could make it.”
    The Fire elemental’s voice was low, soft, and silky, with just a hint of a rasp to it. Still, despite her gentle tone, a clear undercurrent of power and