Elemental Assassin 05 - Spider's Revenge

in a year as the Spider. Even I was getting a little sick of the constant surprise attacks and blood spatters on my clothes, but the stream of suicidal lowlifes showed no signs of slowing down anytime soon.
    The old lady next to Finn sucked in a breath. I lookeddown and realized that I’d picked up the tomato knife again, rubbing my thumb over the polished hilt. It wasn’t as nice or sharp as the five silverstone knives that I had secreted on my body, but the serrated blade would do plenty of damage. Most things would, if you put enough force behind them.
    “What are you looking at?” I snapped.
    The old lady’s eyes widened. With a trembling hand, she reached into her purse, threw a fifty-dollar bill on the counter, and hightailed it out of the restaurant as fast as her white square heels would carry her.
    “Another one bites the dust,” Finn murmured, his green eyes merry in his handsome face.
    I narrowed my eyes and made a slashing gesture with the knife. Finn, of course, ignored my glare and threats of violence. Instead, he raised his coffee mug and gestured to a dwarf who was chopping long, green ribs of celery to add to some macaroni salad she was mixing up.
    “Sophia?” he asked. “If you please?”
    Sophia Deveraux turned to stare at Finn. Sophia was the head cook at the Pork Pit, in addition to her side job of disposing of any bodies I left in my wake as the Spider. I’d inherited the dwarf’s dual services when I’d taken over the assassination business from Finn’s father, Fletcher Lane, the old man who’d been an assassin known as the Tin Man and had taught me everything he knew.
    Sophia grunted and grabbed the pot of coffee that she always kept on for Finn, who usually dropped by the restaurant at least once a day. She refilled his cup, and the warm, chicory fumes filled my nose and momentarily overpowered the cumin and other spices that flavoredthe air. The rich caffeine smell always reminded me of Fletcher, who’d drunk the same chicory brew before he’d died.
    Now, the Pork Pit might not be much to look at, but folks couldn’t help but stare at Sophia. One by one, their eyes flicked from me to her. It wasn’t the fact that Sophia was a dwarf that drew people’s gazes; it was because she was Goth—seriously Goth. Sophia wore heavy black boots and jeans, topped by a white T-shirt that featured a black scythe slashing across her chest. Grim Reaper indeed. Her hair and eyes were black, too, making her skin seem that much paler, despite the crimson lipstick she wore. The lipstick was the same color as the spiked, silverstone collar that ringed her neck.
    The good thing about standing next to Sophia was that it made everyone forget about me and the knife I still clutched in my hand. After a few more seconds, everyone went back to their sandwiches, along with the baked beans, coleslaw, steak-cut fries, and the other side dishes that went with them.
    “Now, back to my vacation idea.” Finn grinned, showing off his perfect white teeth. “Just think about it. You, Owen, me, and Bria, all happily ensconced in a swanky resort hotel. Bria in a bikini. You and Owen doing your own thing, Bria in a bikini. Did I mention Bria in a bikini?”
    I rolled my eyes. “That’s my baby sister you’re talking about.”
    Finn’s grin widened. “I know.”
    Along with everything else that had gone down when I’d been waging my final battle against Mab, Finn hadfinally hooked up with my younger sister, Bria, after a long, arduous pursuit. I wasn’t sure how serious the two of them were, but they’d been hot and heavy for weeks now and showed no signs of slowing down anytime soon. I was happy for them—really, I was—but I could have done without Finn giving me the play-by-play of their sex life on a regular basis. Hell, I didn’t even talk about that stuff with Bria, and she was my sister. But that was part of the sordid charm of Finnegan Lane. My foster brother loved talking about women as much as he did sleeping with them.
    Finn opened his mouth to cajole me some more, but I’d had enough—enough of the stares, enough of the whispers, enough of everyone wondering if I was going to kill them for setting foot inside my restaurant. I just wanted to be left alone by everyone right now, including Finn.
    “I don’t need a vacation,” I growled, stomping away from him and the curious customers in the front of the restaurant. “And that’s final.”
    I grabbed a couple of trash bags, pushed