Elemental Assassin 04 - Tangled Threads

everyone else was vulnerable, especially where LaFleur was concerned.
    “Everybody’s okay. Vinnie and Natasha are still tucked away at Jo-Jo’s house, and Roslyn and Xavier are watching their backs. Xavier is also keeping an eye on Bria during their shift together like you wanted him to,” Finn said. “There’s been no sign of any of Mab’s men or LaFleur hanging around the salon, Roslyn’s house, the police station, or even Northern Aggression. Everything’s quiet so far.”
    I nodded. “So far.”
    I doubted it would stay that way through the rest of the night. But when Elektra LaFleur came calling, I would be ready.
    And then the assassin would finally die.
    But nothing happened the rest of the afternoon and on into the evening. Not a damn thing. Nobody came into the restaurant who looked like she didn’t belong. No strange phone calls, no weird take-out orders, nothing.
    Finn left to go see what else his snitches had to tell him, and we made a plan to meet at Jo-Jo’s later on to try to figure out what to do about Vinnie and Natasha, since the two of them couldn’t stay hidden at the dwarf’s house forever.
    “LaFleur?” Sophia asked, wiping down the back counter.
    The waitstaff had left for the evening, and the two of us were alone in the restaurant. I stared out the storefront windows, but the scene hadn’t changed since the last time that I’d looked two minutes ago. People still moved back and forth outside on the sidewalk, although the crowd had thinned out after rush hour. Now folks tucked their chins down into their coats and hurried on to their destinations as fast as they could, desperate to get out of the December cold.
    I turned to Sophia and shrugged. “Looks like she’s not going to show. She must be busy chasing the Spider’s ghost tonight, instead of plotting to kill Gin Blanco.”
    The Goth dwarf grunted and went back to her wiping. It didn’t look like anyone else was going to drop by, so we started closing down the restaurant for the night. Turning off the French fryer, doing the same to the griddle and the ovens, putting the leftover food into the refrigerators—all our usual routines.
    When all that was done, I grabbed the day’s trash, opened the back door of the restaurant, and stepped outside into the alley behind the Pork Pit.
    The crackle of electricity in the air immediately told me she was here.
    I could feel Elektra LaFleur’s elemental magic leaking off her like water dripping from a faucet. Some elementals were like that—they constantly gave off magic, even when they weren’t consciously using their power. They just oozed magic at all times. That’s why I always felt red-hot needles pricking my skin whenever I was in Mab’s proximity. The Fire elemental radiated power just like LaFleur was doing right now.
    Even if LaFleur hadn’t been dripping with elemental power, my own Stone magic would have clued me in to the fact that something was wrong in the alley. Instead of their usual slow, clogged murmurs, the bricks of the restaurant had taken on sharp, muttered notes of worry. Something had disturbed the stone, and I knew exactly what it was—the twisted, shocking intentions of the assassin lying in wait for me. The new, harsh vibration overpowered the bricks’ usual sighs of contentment.
    My eyes scanned over what I could see of the alley. Dumpsters, the backs of other buildings, and a small crack barely big enough for a child to squeeze into, an old hiding place of mine back when I’d been living on the streets. Slushy puddles of oil and other stains coated the alley floor like glossy black varnish. But I’d give LaFleur credit. She was just as good at hiding as I was, because I didn’t immediately spot her lurking in the shadows. Still, I knew she was there—and I was more than ready for the assassin.
    I put the trash bags in the Dumpster, banging open the metal hatch like I didn’t have a bloody care in the world, but when I closed it and turned around, ready to go back inside the warmth of the restaurant, there she was, standing in the alley behind me.
    Elektra LaFleur.
    She wore the same dark green peacoat that she’d had on the last time she’d come to the Pork Pit, along with a pair of black pants and stiletto boots. That seemed to be her outfit du jour. LaFleur could afford to be a little more colorful with her wardrobe than I could, since she just fried people with her electrical magic and didn’t get up close, bloody, and personal as