"Now you're talking, sugar. I consider myself a reasonable person. I'm willing to trade you the tube and its contents."

"In exchange for what?"

"Two things. First, and most important, safe passage off the island."

"And the second?"

I drew in a breath. "Second, you let all the hostages live."

It was a calculated risk, but it was one I had to take.

"And why do you care so much about those folks?" Clementine asked. "Considering that just a minute ago, you were telling me to put a couple of bullets into Eva Grayson?"

"Well, let's just say that this isn't exactly a solo job. As I'm sure you know, you can't pull a heist like this without greasing a few palms. Well, more than a few. This is Ashland, after all. Anyway, I have a connection or two in the rotunda whom I'd like to see live through the night. Connections that will make it far easier for me to cash in on all my lovely, lovely diamonds."

"Well, if you care so much about your supposed friends, I could just start shooting people until you decide to turn that tube over to me," she threatened.

"You could," I agreed. "Although there are, what, two hundred and some people in the rotunda? The odds aren't good that you'll kill my connections. At least, not immediately. Besides, you start shooting folks, and the others will rise up and try to stop you. Self-preservation has a nasty habit of kicking in like that. And while you're busy fighting off a mob, I'll be slipping off the island. I'll find some way off this rock. Trust me on that. The second I'm back on the mainland, I'm a ghost, gone, and whatever's in this fancy tube along with me. Do you really want to take that chance, sugar?"

She fell silent again. All around me, the others shifted on their feet. The hums of crickets and the bellows of bullfrogs filled in the quiet. In the distance, I could hear the faint sloshing of the Aneirin River as it flowed around the island.

"Fine," Clementine finally snarled. "I want what's in that tube more than I want to kill the hostages."

Well, that, and she had been planning to let them live all along. But I'd take what I could get.

"Excellent," I drawled. "I thought you might see things my way."

"Meet me at the boathouse on the back side of the island," Clementine said. "That's where we'll make the exchange. You don't show, and I tell my men to start shooting."

It took me a moment to figure out that she was talking about the dock. In the summer, the museum let visitors rent out small plastic paddleboats and steer them through a series of canals that had been carved into and around the island. All the paddleboats were launched from the large dock at the back tip of the island.

I frowned. Why would Clementine want to meet way out there? Why not in the rotunda? Or out by the moving trucks? At least, that way, if things went badly, she could always order her giants to kill me or hop into one of the trucks and make good on her getaway -

Getaway.

The word, the thought, the idea, echoed through my mind, along with everything I'd seen and heard this evening. Clementine boldly announcing herself to the hostages. Opal taking such care sorting through the jewelry. Dixon saying they wouldn't have to share their loot. The bomb under the moving truck.

Clementine's getaway plan - that's what this was all about.

I'd wondered before why the giant and her crew hadn't worn masks. I'd thought it had been because they were going to kill all of the hostages. But now I knew the real reason: Clementine planned to fake her own death. She was going to blow up the first moving truck, and no doubt all the other ones too, with all of the art and all of the giants inside them . . . probably right as the vehicles were crossing the covered bridge. The wooden structure would collapse from the force of the blasts, plunging the trucks and everything and everyone inside them into the Aneirin River. The currents ran deep, swift, and sure around Briartop Island. They'd carry the blasted remains of the art and the robbers downstream and muddy the waters of the subsequent investigation, so to speak.

That's why the jewelry was so important. It was the only thing Clementine planned on taking with her. Well, that and the tube that held Mab's will. I still didn't know exactly what she wanted with that, but it didn't much matter at the moment.

What did matter was the fact that Clementine was going to sacrifice her own men and millions in art so that she, Opal, and Dixon could get away clean. No one would come looking for them after the fact, because everyone would think that they were as dead as the other giants. And by the time the bodies were sorted out and folks realized what had happened, well, Clementine would be ensconced on some tropical island far, far away from Ashland.

And to do all this, Clementine had to have a boat stashed at the dock. That's why she wanted to meet down there.

No doubt, the giant thought she could go kill me, take the tube, and drift on down the river with Opal, Dixon, and all the jewels they'd stolen before any of the other giants realized that she'd left them behind. Not a bad idea, considering how much I'd already screwed up her original plans. She could definitely improvise in a pinch - but so could I.

"Are you still there?" Clementine asked. "It's the boathouse or nothing. I want you as far away from my men and our art as possible. You've already done enough damage to both this evening."

Of course she did, but not for the reasons she was saying.

"Don't you worry, sugar. I'll be there. When you tell your men to release the hostages, I'll hand over the tube. Then we can both go our separate ways."

"Fine," Clementine snapped. "You have thirty minutes. Be there, or I tell my boys to start shooting - and not to stop until every single person in the rotunda is dead."

* * *

Static hissed through the walkie-talkie, indicating that the giant was done talking. Good. So was I. Now it was time to act. I turned down the volume on the device and looked at the others.

"You know she's going to double-cross you," Bria said. "Just as soon as she gets the chance. She's probably already ordering her giants to get into position all around the boathouse to take you down."

I shook my head. "No. She'll order some of her men to guard the hostages in the rotunda, and the others will be out by the moving trucks, protecting the art. The only ones who will be at the boathouse will be Clementine, Opal, and Dixon. They're the only ones in on the real plan."

"What plan?" Owen asked.

I told them what I thought Clementine was really up to.

Xavier let out a low whistle. "She's going to blow up all that art and all her men just to make sure that she escapes. She's certainly determined. So what are we going to do about it?"

"Well, while I meet Clementine at the boathouse, you, Bria, and Owen will get into position on the second-floor balcony above the rotunda," I said. "That'll give you the high ground and the chance to take out the giants by sniping at them from above. It's not ideal, since the hostages will still be in danger, but it's the best chance we have to rescue those folks with minimal loss of life to them or us. The only chance, really."

Bria shook her head, the moonlight making her blond hair glimmer like spun silver. "No," she said. "I'm not leaving you to face Clementine alone. It's too risky. Especially since she'll have Opal and Dixon for backup."

"It's a risk we have to take," I said in a quiet voice. "If we have any chance of saving Phillip and everyone else. It's been more than ninety minutes since he was shot. Phillip doesn't have much time left. We need to take out the giants in the rotunda now, or he dies."

I gave her a crooked grin.

"Besides, I don't plan on meeting Clementine so much as leaping out of the shadows, driving my knife into her back, and cutting her throat."

I didn't mention that such a sneak attack was probably the only way I could kill the giant now, given her incredible strength and all the licks I'd already taken tonight.

Bria looked at me, her mouth pinched with frustration. After a moment, she let out a tense breath. My sister didn't like it, but she knew I was right. "At least, promise me that you'll be careful."

I slung my arm around her shoulder and hugged her tight. "Don't worry, baby sister. I can take care of myself. You know that."

Bria nodded, but her face remained grim. We all knew what I was up against - what we were all up against.

Finally, Owen spoke. "You don't have to risk yourself for everyone else, Gin. Not for any reason."

I knew he was talking about Jillian and the guilt I felt over her death, but I just shook my head. "That's where you're wrong. I have to do this. You know I do."

Jillian was dead because of me. It was stupid and cruel and random, just like Owen had said, and there was no way I could go back and fix things, no way for me to bring her back. But I could make sure her murderers paid the same price they'd forced upon her. It wouldn't make up for what Jillian had suffered, and it wouldn't lessen my guilt. But it needed to be done, and I was the only one capable of doing it.

Instead of arguing, Owen just looked at me, his gaze slowly going over me from top to bottom, just like Bria's had a few minutes before. Ruined dress. Black boots. Blood on all the spaces in between.

It wasn't a pretty picture, I knew it wasn't, and I waited for Owen to turn away from me. He was still struggling with his feelings about Salina's death, including the conflicting ones he had for me, and I knew that how I looked right now wouldn't help my cause any. It would only reinforce what I did as the Spider - and what I'd done to Salina.

Owen kept staring at me, his violet eyes on my gray ones. I wondered what he saw there and what he thought about it all.

Bria and Xavier glanced back and forth between us, but they remained quiet. All around us, the hums of the crickets continued, punctuated every now and then by the haunting hoot of an owl hidden in one of the trees.

"Yes," Owen finally said. "I suppose you do."

Instead of the uncertainty and disgust I'd expected, his gaze softened with understanding - and respect. It was the first time he'd looked at me like that in weeks. It was the first time he'd looked at me without pain in his eyes since Salina's death.

"But you're not going alone," he continued. "I'm coming with you."

"But you're hurt. Your arm - "

He shook his head. "Doesn't matter right now. You do. You said that Clementine would have Opal and Dixon for backup. Well, you need somebody too. You don't know what tricks the giants might pull. Bria and Xavier can handle things in the rotunda. They're both better shots than I am. Besides, I have my own score to settle with Clementine and Dixon. I know you understand that."

He smiled at me, and I found myself grinning back. Once again, a tiny bit of hope sparked to life in the cold, black ashes of my heart, hope that maybe Owen and I could get through this after all. That we could eventually move past this, together.

I embraced that hope for a moment, grabbed onto it with both hands, and held it close like the rare treasure it was. Then I let go of it, let it float away like a butterfly on a bright day, because the darkest part of the night was yet to come, and there was no place for it here.

Chapter 21

Bria, Xavier, Owen, and I left the gardens and went back to the museum. We didn't see or hear anyone as we scurried from the edge of the flowerbeds over to the side entrance I'd used before. I gestured for the others to stay hidden behind the bushes, while I sidled up to the door and peered through the cracked glass.

Once again, the hallway was dark and empty. I hadn't heard Clementine issue any more orders over the radio, but I was sure she'd told all of her remaining giants to either hightail it back to the rotunda or go outside and guard the trucks. Only one way to find out. The giants had busted the lock in their haste to chase after Owen and me, so I didn't have to use my stolen key card to open the door this time.

I winced as a bit of glass fell out of one of the doorframes and plinked against the stone, but the noise didn't keep me from ducking inside. I stood by the entrance, a knife in hand, looking and listening, but I didn't see or hear any guards. I turned and waved for the others to come on in.

We headed toward the rotunda. During my earlier wanderings, bumps and thumps and shouts had echoed from one room to the next as the robbers had looted all the art. But now everything was still and quiet, and the only sounds were my friends moving beside me and the tense mutters of the marble. The stone could sense all of my dark intentions. It knew that the violence was far from over.

We made it back to the stairs I'd used before without incident. We climbed up them to the second floor, then got down on our bellies and slid over to the edge of the balcony, staring down.

The scene hadn't changed much since I was here last. The hostages were all sitting together in the middle of the rotunda, surrounded by giants with guns. Good. They didn't realize it, but the giants had made themselves easy targets by standing over the hostages. Bria and Xavier could easily pick off the guards without worrying about a hostage getting in the line of fire. Once the shooting started, I imagined everyone on the ground would duck farther down for cover anyway.

Another thing working in our favor was the fact that there were only about a dozen giants left standing guard in the rotunda. All the others must be out by the moving trucks. They probably thought protecting the art was their number one priority now. Poor fools. They didn't realize that Clementine planned to blow them sky-high just as soon as she could.

It took me a few seconds, but I finally spotted my friends in the crowd. Roslyn and Finn were hovering over Phillip, still applying pressure to his gunshot wound. Roslyn would press down on his chest for a minute before Finn moved forward to relieve her. Then, after another minute had passed, they'd switch places again. Eva cradled Phillip's head in her lap, stroking his golden hair and whispering to him, even though he was unconscious. Phillip's skin looked pale and sweaty, but his chest moved up and down with a slow, steady rhythm.