Elemental Assassin 05 - Spider's Revenge

rasp of his stubble against my skin, his fingers sliding down my cheek. I breathed in, letting his rich, earthy scent fill my nose.
    And then the kiss ended, and I was the Spider once more.
    A valet came and took the car away. After we made note of where he put it, Owen and I strolled inside the country club arm in arm. Owen gave his engraved invitationto the tuxedo-clad vampire manning the interior door. The vamp waved us on, and we stepped into the main ballroom. We moved to one side of the open doors, getting our bearings and watching the ebb and flow of people.
    Five massive, circular buildings comprised the Five Oaks Country Club, including the ballroom before us, which covered several thousand feet and towered four stories into the air. Multiple sets of stairs led to the upper levels, each of which featured a balcony that circled the entire ballroom. The walkways made it all the better for the rich snobs to look down on their peers. A glass dome arched high overhead, forming the ceiling. Through the glass, I could just make out the soft curve of the moon. The bright silver sliver peaked through the thin clouds that wisped across the sky like a child playing peek-a-boo. Now you see me, now you don’t.
    Floor-to-ceiling glass windows lined the back wall of the ballroom, along with doors that led outside. In daylight hours, the sweeping view would show off the club’s acorn-shaped swimming pools, several tennis courts, and, of course, the green carpet of the back nine. Tonight, though, only darkness and snow peeped through.
    Normally, round tables covered with pale peach linens would have filled the ballroom, each one with the country club’s rune—an acorn—stitched in gold thread in the center of the tablecloths and napkins. Since this was a masquerade ball, the decorations had been swapped out accordingly. Long, low settees done in red and black velvet ringed a black-and-white, checkerboard dance floor. Abstract elemental Ice sculptures squatted hereand there throughout the ballroom, while more icicles dripped down the walls and clustered together in lieu of actual flowers. Black and crimson pillar candles thicker and taller than my arms burned in the middle of some of the icy arrangements, the flickering flames making the frosted shards glitter like diamonds.
    I had to give Finn his props, because he’d been right about our costumes. Owen and I looked practically tame and toothless in our leather, compared to how much skin some of the trophy wives were showing. One woman walked by wearing nothing but a diamond choker and strategically placed bits of elemental Ice—shaped like sharp, curving thorns no less. Another vamp wore several long, fluttering layers of gauzy red silk, although the fabric was far too transparent for the woman to be the chaste angel that her ruby halo proclaimed her to be. I even saw one woman dressed completely in silver spandex. She was supposed to be a superhero, I think. Karma Girl or somebody like that.
    We grabbed a couple of drinks at the bar and circulated through the room. To keep up appearances, Owen chatted with all the business types that he knew. I made the appropriate polite noises when called upon, but I scanned the crowd the entire time, looking for my prey for the evening—Mab Monroe.
    She appeared about twenty minutes after we did, a little trilling trumpet of fanfare heralding her arrival. Conversation dulled to a low hush at the sound, and all eyes turned to the entrance. A moment later, Mab stepped inside, dressed just as Finn had said she would be.
    Dressed as the Spider.
    Crimson leather covered the Fire elemental from head to toe, every inch of it molded to her lush, curvy figure, making it seem as though she’d bathed in blood. Maybe she had, given all the other horrible things she’d done.
    The leather made Mab’s hair look even redder than it really was. Tonight the soft, curling waves reminded me of ribbons of fire swirling around her head. As always, Mab wore her trademark necklace—a large, circular ruby surrounded by several dozen flat, gold, wavy rays. A sunburst. The symbol for fire. Mab’s rune.
    The Fire elemental turned her head to speak to someone just inside the door. The candlelight glinted off the diamond cutting on the gold, making the rays spark and flash, while the ruby glowed with its own inner fire. But the sunburst wasn’t the only symbol that Mab was wearing tonight.
    The bitch also had on a spider rune—my rune.
    A small circle