Elemental Assassin 04 - Tangled Threads

see the future had told Mab that a member of the Snow family, someone who could wield both Ice and Stone magic, would kill her one day. Rather than let that happen, Mab had decided to make her own preemptive strike.
    That’s why she’d come to my house all those years ago. That’s why she’d killed my mother and my older sister, Annabella. That’s why she’d tortured me, first by duct-taping the spider rune medallion that I wore as a necklace between my palms. When I hadn’t told Mab where Bria was, Mab had used her Fire magic to superheat the silverstone metal until it melted into my palms—forever marking me. Branding me as the Spider in more ways than one.
    The Fire elemental just hadn’t realized that I was the one that she’d really wanted to eliminate that night. That I was the real threat to her, not Bria. That I was the one with both Ice and Stone magic—magic that I was going to use to kill Mab.
    The prophecy, Mab’s actions, the fact that I’d survived anyway—it was all very tragic and somewhat Greek. Or maybe I thought that only because I’d just finished up a classic literature course over at Ashland Community College. We’d read tales of Oedipus and
The Odyssey
, among other things. Sometimes, I wondered if Mab and I were like two ancient Greek combatants, locked in this epic struggle, each move we made to prevent our tragic fates instead actually bringing us closer to our final, deadly confrontation.
    Owen moved to stand beside me. “What are you thinking about?”
    “Nothing.”
    I put the snow globe down on the table, turned to him, and looped my arms around his neck. I tilted up my head, and my gaze traced over Owen’s features. The white scar that cut across his chin, firm lips, slightly crooked nose, and finally up to his eyes.
    As always, I looked deep into his violet gaze, losing myself in the pale, amethyst color, searching for a sign, a hint, a flash of feeling that would tell me that he’d finally wised up and decided to end things with me. That Owen saw how dark and twisted I really was deep down and that it finally, ultimately, disgusted him, the way that it had Donovan Caine, the man I’d been involved with before Owen came along.
    As always, I saw nothing. No fear, no condemnation, no disgust. Only acceptance.
    Owen put his hands around my waist and drew me into the warm embrace of his arms. His hands moved up my back, massaging my tight muscles, before slidingdown to the curve of my ass and pulling me against him, so that I could feel every hard inch of him rubbing against the junction of my thighs, even through the thick fabric of my jeans.
    “Mmm,” I said. “Someone’s happy to see me.”
    Owen bent his head and pressed a soft kiss to my throat. Heat flooded my veins at the gentle contact.
    “Always,” he agreed.
    I turned my head, and our lips met. We kissed slowly at first, sweetly, gently even. Our lips just brushing, our hands just skimming over each other’s bodies. I breathed in Owen’s scent, that rich, earthy aroma that always made me think of metal, something he had an elemental talent for using. But the connection between us flared too bright, burned too hot, to be contained for long.
    The kiss deepened, and our tongues got involved, tasting each other. Owen’s hands slid up under my shirt, gliding across my stomach. Mine drifted lower, moving across his hips. Both of us not going any farther with our teasing—at least not yet.
    “You know,” Owen murmured against my lips. “I think that Eva had an excellent idea about going to bed. Care to join me?”
    “Why bother with bed?” I jerked my head. “I see a perfectly serviceable couch right there.”
    “Hmm,” Owen said, grinning down at me. “Have I ever told you what good ideas you have, Gin?”
    I smiled up at him. “No, but you could show me.”
    “Oh, I plan to. Don’t you worry about that.”
    Owen drew me closer. His lips met mine again, and I surrendered to him for the night.

4
     
    Since it was less than a week before Christmas, Owen was taking some time off from his various business interests, which meant that he got to sleep in the next morning. But I still had a barbecue restaurant to run, so I slipped out of bed early and took a hot shower.
    Owen was still asleep when I finished getting ready. He sprawled face down on the king-size bed, a soft blanket covering his bare back, one strong arm jutting off the mattress into the empty air in front of the nightstand.
    I stood