Elemental Assassin 04 - Tangled Threads

before—including Mab. I’d never been comfortable with that thought, and once more it made me shiver, even in the bright, cheery warmth of the dwarf’s kitchen.
    Because really, when it came right down to it, the cold, hard, rocky truth was that my mother and sister had diedbecause of my elemental power. Because of what I could do with it. To say that I had some guilt about that would be an understatement. Ever since I’d found out that I was the cause for all of this, for all the misery and suffering in my own life, I’d felt sick over it. Just—sick.
    Still, despite what Jo-Jo and even Mab thought, I wasn’t foolish enough to think that I was the greatest elemental power that had ever been born. There was always somebody stronger out there, somebody quicker, tougher, smarter. All you had to do was be unlucky enough to meet them, have an off day, and then you got dead.
    “I told you that your Ice magic would only get stronger since you overcame the block of having that silverstone in your hands,” Jo-Jo said in a soft voice. “I’d say that it’s the equal of your Stone power now. It was what saved you last night. And it’s what will help you kill Elektra LaFleur. Don’t be afraid of it, Gin. Don’t be afraid of yourself.”
    I didn’t meet the dwarf’s eyes, but another shiver swept through me just the same.
    Because it was too late for all that now. It had been ever since the night Mab had murdered my family.
    Jo-Jo went into the den to put some blankets over Vinnie’s and Natasha’s still-sleeping forms. The dwarf agreed with me that the two of them needed to stay out of sight for the next few days, which meant they’d be bunking here for a little while longer. At least until I’d dealt with LaFleur—one way or another.
    I took a long, hot shower and put on the spare set of clothes Finn had brought over for me earlier. Then I went back downstairs, fully intending to head over to the PorkPit for the rest of the day, help out Sophia, and see if LaFleur came by for her inevitable visit.
    To my surprise, Owen was waiting downstairs in the kitchen.
    “I thought you were going home to Eva,” I said.
    “I’m going to go right now,” he said, getting to his feet. “And you’re coming with me.”
    “I am?”
    Owen nodded. “You are. You need to rest, Gin. At least for one more day before you put yourself out there as bait for that assassin.”
    I raised an eyebrow. “And you’re, what? Offering to take care of me for the rest of the day?”
    Owen nodded again. “Night too,” he said in a husky voice. “If you’ll let me.”
    I stared into his violet eyes, looking once again for any hint, any sign, that he’d finally wised up. That Owen had finally realized how cold, violent, twisted, and emotionally distant I really was, and that he was finally ready to pretend he’d never met me. But there was nothing in his gaze but warm acceptance—and stubborn determination to watch out for me, even if I didn’t want him to. Even if I didn’t think I deserved it. Even if I didn’t think I was actually worthy of someone’s time, consideration, attention, and sympathy.
    The tangled threads around my heart tightened a little more.
    Just for Owen standing there in Jo-Jo’s kitchen and caring enough about me to try to delay my inevitable death at least one more day. The realization, the sheer force of it, took my breath away, and I had to reachout and put one hand on the kitchen table to steady myself.
    “So,” Owen said, “are you coming along peaceful-like, or am I going to have to hog-tie you and put you in the car?”
    “Promises, promises, sheriff,” I quipped. “You have no idea how much I like being tied up.”
    A slow, lazy grin spread across Owen’s chiseled face. “Well, maybe that’s one of the things we can talk about in greater detail—at my house this evening.”
    The grin dropped from his face, and he was serious once more. “What do you say, Gin? Come home with me. Even if it’s only for today.”
    Please
. He didn’t say the word, but we both heard it in the rough, raw tone of his voice. And try as I might, I couldn’t stop the silken threads wrapped around my heart from quivering in agreement. From wanting to enjoy just one more carefree day and night with Owen, before I focused all my attention on the deadliest enemy I’d ever faced.
    “All right,” I said in a teasing tone, trying to lighten the mood and the unfamiliar, uncomfortable emotions flooding my