Elemental Assassin 05 - Spider's Revenge

then?”
    “So demanding,” Finn said.
    I just looked at him.
    “Fine, fine,” he muttered, pulling out his cell phone and scrolling through a couple of screens.
    After a minute, Finn found what he was looking for.
    “Bria’s source is one Lincoln Jenkins,” he said, talking just loud enough so that I could hear him above the pounding music. “Quite the rap sheet he’s got. Dozens of arrests for all sorts of petty crimes, most of which have to do with being caught with things that didn’t belong to him very close to houses that had just been broken into.”
    “So he’s a thief, then,” Roslyn said.
    We’d filled the vamp in on why we were staking out the club. A common courtesy among friends. Roslyn knew who I was, of course. We had a history together, stretching back to last year when I’d killed her abusive brother-in-law and then more recently, when I’d helped her take care of Elliot Slater, the giant who’d been stalking and terrorizing her. Even if we hadn’t clued Roslyn in on what was happening, Xavier would have kept her in the loop, since he and Roslyn were hot and heavy these days. The giant cop also moonlighted as the club’s head bouncer and was currently working the front door, determining who got in past the red velvet rope and who was left standing outside in the cold. Another reason that he’d suggested that Finn and I back up Bria tonight, since he wouldn’t be around to help her if things went bad.
    Finn sniffed, “If you call boosting radios out of gang-bangers’ cars and swiping rhinestone necklaces out of grandma’s jewelry box
stealing
. Some of us prefer to work on a larger, more professional scale.”
    Being an investment banker, con artist, and all-around swindler, Finn had far higher standards than most of the crooks in Ashland—and a much bigger ego. He preferred to rob his clients while wining and dining them rather than holding them up at gunpoint. He was rather fussy that way. His twisted version of snobbery was one of the odd quirks that I loved about my foster brother, although I’d never admit it to him.
    Finn also excelled at digging into people and finding out every little thing about them, from where they got their teeth cleaned to how much money they had stashedin their safety deposit box to how many bodies they had buried in their backyards. After Bria had told us when and where she was supposed to meet Lincoln Jenkins, I’d had Finn dig up all the info that he could on the small-time crook.
    And, keeping my newfound promise to Owen, I’d called my lover as well and told him that I was backing up Bria tonight. The conversation between us had been stilted and awkward, but Owen had seemed relieved that I didn’t have my sights set on Mab again. At least not for tonight. I didn’t tell him that I hadn’t given up on my plan to kill the Fire elemental. There was no need. Owen knew how badly I wanted her dead, how much I
needed
her dead to keep everyone that I loved safe—
    “Jenkins is late,” Finn said, cutting into my thoughts. “Ten minutes late, to be exact.”
    “He’s a thief,” Roslyn answered. “He probably hocked whatever watch he stole.”
    Finn snorted his agreement. “Maybe. But if he was so excited and the information that he had was so big, you’d think that he’d be early. Waiting at the bar, smoking a cigarette, drinking a beer, whatever, wanting to get things over with. Instead, he’s a no-show, so far at least. Which looks like it’s seriously pissing off sweet, sweet Bria.”
    Sure enough, Bria seemed impatient, tapping her hand on the Ice bar, turning the silverstone rings around on her finger, and continually scanning the crowd—all the obvious signs of a woman being stood up and getting angry about it. Then Bria’s hand stilled, and she frowned before reaching down and pulling her cell phone out of her jacket. She held the phone up to her ear, sticking herfinger in her opposite one so she could hear the person on the other end. She said a few words, then hung up. Bria didn’t look in our direction; she was too smart for that, but a moment later, Finn’s cell phone lit up.
    He peered at the text message on the screen. “Bria says that Jenkins just called her. He wants to meet outside in the west parking lot. She’s going to meet him right now.”
    This time I frowned. Why would a small-time hood like Jenkins want to meet outside on a night as cold as this one? There was more than enough of a crowd to get lost in,