Elemental Assassin 05 - Spider's Revenge

elemental would do to my sister, of how she would torture her. Just because she could. My stomach twisted, and it took what little strength I had left to keep from vomiting.
    “I’m so sorry, Gin,” Finn said. “So fucking sorry. This is all my fault. If I hadn’t set my sights on Bria, if I hadn’t tried to seduce her tonight, if I hadn’t baited her, if I’d just answered my damn phone when you first called…”
    Finn swallowed the rest of his words, but I could hear the anguish in his voice. Despite his womanizing ways, Finn genuinely cared for Bria. Even more than that, she was part of our makeshift family now. He would have felt the same way if Jo-Jo had been kidnapped or Sophia or me. And I couldn’t point the finger of blame at Finn too much. We all made mistakes, we all fucked up from time to time. Not too long ago, one of my screwups had led to my foster brother’s almost being killed in the Ashland Rock Quarry. No, I couldn’t fault Finn for being himself, for doing what was in his nature. I just couldn’t. I’d already lost Bria tonight—I wasn’t losing him too.
    So I roused myself out of my stupor long enough to lean over and squeeze his cold hand. “If you’d answered my call and tried to leave the house, you might have run into the bounty hunters coming up the driveway and been captured immediately. It’s okay. We’ll get her back. Bria will be fine. You’ll see.”
    Finn nodded, but we could both hear the hollow echo in my weak, mumbled words.
    We headed due west to the suburbs that lay on the far side of Ashland. Given the late hour, falling snow, and treacherous roads, we didn’t pass a single car—not one. We’d gotten our clean getaway after all—it had just come too late for Bria.
    Twenty minutes later, Finn left the main road. He made a series of turns, finally steering the car into what looked like two ruts leading smack-dab to the middle of nowhere. A mile later, the car broke free of the snow-laden trees, and Finn stopped in front of an enormous log cabin that had been built into the side of this particular ridge.
    In the dark, the cabin looked like a stain that had been spilled over the pristine carpet of the white, fluffy snow. No lights burned in the structure, which was flanked by trees, but one of the fins on Sophia’s classic convertible peeked around the far side of the building. The Goth dwarf and Jo-Jo had made it here. I just hoped that the others had too.
    The cabin was a safe house Fletcher had kept up for years, one of several that the old man had maintained. Now that he was gone, the only people who knew about the place were me, Finn, Owen, and the Deveraux sisters.But that didn’t mean there still couldn’t be trouble lurking inside—not with all the bounty hunters in the city who were searching for me. So I made myself pick up my bloody knives from the floorboard. Next to me, Finn pulled out one of his guns again. The two of us left the car and approached the house cautiously, sliding from shadow to shadow and watching for any sign of movement behind the curtains.
    We’d only gotten halfway across the yard, when the light on the front porch snapped on. Finn and I both dropped into a low crouch, weapons ready. A moment later, the front door creaked open, and Jo-Jo stuck her head outside, no doubt looking for us. Finn and I climbed back to our feet and headed her way. The dwarf spotted us and opened her mouth to call out a greeting. Then she saw there were only two of us—and that Bria wasn’t here.
    “Gin?” Jo-Jo asked in a soft voice, stepping back to turn on some more lights.
    I shook my head and plodded past her inside.
    The cabin was exactly what you’d expect to find in this part of Ashland. Large, sprawling, roomy, and filled with rustic, woodsy furniture done in dark, manly shades. Soapstone figures carved into the shapes of various animals crouched on the tables, while paintings of mountains and creeks covered the smooth log walls.
    They were all gathered in the downstairs living room, huddled together on the couches and chairs. Xavier and Roslyn held hands on a love seat in front of the windows. Warren Fox sat next to them in an old-fashioned rocking chair. Warren’s granddaughter, Violet, perched on one side of another sofa, next to her best friend, Eva Grayson.Sophia stood by herself next to the fireplace, stirring up the flames that flickered there. And finally, there was Owen, already moving toward me, concern flashing in his