Elemental Assassin 05 - Spider's Revenge

nothing that McAllister could do about my being here, and we both knew it. So I waggled my fingers at him and blew the bastard a kiss. McAllister’s mouth pursed that much more, but I didn’t care.
    Because I was ready to end this—all of this—tonight.
    The minutes slipped by and turned into one hour, then two. I kept my attention on Mab as much as I could, waiting for her to separate herself from the crowd and her giant bodyguards who roamed through the room. I counted five of them on the ballroom floor, never moving more than a few feet away from the Fire elemental, looking for anyone suspicious or out of place. Even more giants strolled along the balconies above my head, continually circling the area. Their diligence would have made it impossible for me to station myself on a higher floor and snipe Mab from above, even if I’d managed to somehow sneak a crossbow into the club.
    For her part, Mab seemed content to stay in the middle of the crowd and not wander off by herself where I could kill her. Still, I was the Spider, and I was good atbeing patient. I’d waited seventeen years for this moment. A few more minutes or even a few more hours was nothing in comparison to that.
    Just before midnight, though, I finally got my chance.
    Jonah turned to speak to someone and then swiveled back toward Mab—hitting her arm and spilling his bourbon all over the front of her crimson catsuit in the process. The liquor soaked into the spider rune on Mab’s chest, making the symbol look like an inky stain bleeding over her heart.
    The conversation around them froze, as Mab glared at her attorney, her black eyes as cold as the Ice sculptures that decorated the ballroom. Jonah murmured a hasty apology, but Mab was having none of it. The Fire elemental brushed him off with a wave of her hand.
    Then she left the ballroom.
    Mab stalked through the open double doors and vanished from sight, probably headed toward one of the bathrooms to try to wipe the bourbon off her expensive leather. I waited several seconds, expecting at least one or two of her giant bodyguards to fall in behind her. But none of them did.
    “That looked a little too deliberate to me,” Owen murmured.
    “Oh, yeah,” I replied. “It was about as subtle as a sledgehammer to the head. But it means that her men have no clue who I am and that she’s tired of waiting for me to show myself. So she’s putting herself out there instead, the final bit of bait in the trap, which means that I have to follow. So wish me luck.”
    “Good luck,” Owen said.
    He didn’t kiss me, not this time, but our eyes locked together. No words were spoken—we didn’t need them. I could see the emotions flashing and sparking in Owen’s gaze. Worry. Concern. Determination.
    Love.
    I stared back at him, trying to tell Owen all the things I wanted to say to him, all of the things that I just couldn’t find the words for. He nodded once and squeezed my hand, his fingers warming my icy ones.
    I squeezed back, then slipped out of the ballroom, heading after Mab.
    At last.

I stepped through the double doors of the ballroom and turned to my right, just as Mab had done. The Fire elemental strolled down the hallway about a hundred feet ahead of me, before coming to a junction and turning right again.
    I followed her, although I dawdled, staring at the oil paintings on the walls, the crystal vases with their elaborate arrangements of roses, and anything else that caught my eye. Going straight after the Fire elemental would have tipped my hand, but now I was just another bored costumed character escaping the cloying confines of the ballroom in search of some fresh air. At least, that’s the persona that I affected. Whether it would work well enough to get me close to Mab remained to be seen.
    Just as I’d suspected, the Fire elemental headed for one of the women’s bathrooms, opening the door and disappearing inside. I examined the pattern etched onto a Tiffany lamp before following her.
    As befitting the grandiose nature of Five Oaks, the bathroom was just as monstrous and ostentatious as everything else. It was the size of a small house, with a large, formal sitting area that was all velvet couches and gilded mirrors, for ladies of a more delicate nature, should they need a place to rest and refresh their makeup. A few women clustered together in groups on the couches, already gossiping and exchanging catty comments about the night’s ball, who had worn what, and who was