Slater hit me again and stepped back. By this point, I hung limp between the two giants, all pretense of being tough and strong long gone. I just wanted this to be over with.

A hand grabbed my chin and forced my face up. I stared into Slater's hazel eyes. At least, I tried to. White starbursts kept exploding over and over in my field of vision, making it hard to focus. The light show was better than fireworks on the Fourth of July.

"Now," Elliot rumbled. "Do you want to reconsider what you know about Jake McAllister's death? Maybe you have something new to add?"

"I don't know anything about Jake's death," I mumbled through a mouthful of loose teeth. Blood spewed out of my split lips and cascaded down my navy fleece jacket. "I swear." I made my voice as low, weak, and whipped as I could.

Jonah McAllister stepped forward and peered at me. Malicious glee shimmered in his brown gaze. "Keep hitting her. I want the bitch to suffer."

Elliot Slater nodded and stepped back.

The giant spent another two minutes hitting me. More pain, more blood, more cracked ribs. As I coughed up another mouthful of coppery blood, it dawned on me that Slater just might beat me to death, right here in the middle of the campus quad. Jonah McAllister certainly wouldn't have any objections to that. Damn. Looked like I was going to have to go for my knives, blast them with my elemental magic, and blow my cover after all, if I still had the strength to do that-

"Enough."

A low voice floated out from somewhere deeper in the shadows. A soft, breathy sound that reminded me of pieces of silk wisping together. I knew that tone, that sultry cadence, knew exactly whom it belonged to. So did my inner psyche. Enemy, enemy, enemy, a little voice muttered in the back of my head. A strange, primal, elemental urge flooded my body, the desire to use my Stone and Ice magic to lash out and kill whoever and whatever was within striking distance.

Elliot Slater ignored the command and hit me again, adding to the pain that racked my body.

"I said enough." The voice dropped to a low hiss that crackled with power, menace, and the promise of death.

Elliot froze, his hand pulled halfway back to hit me again.

"Let her go. Now."

The two giants who'd had their hands clamped around my upper arms dropped me like I had the plague. I lay on the ground, my blood soaking into the frosty grass. Despite the pain, I managed to roll over onto my side. I also slid one of my silverstone knives out of my jacket pocket and palmed it. The weapon felt cold and comforting against the thick scar embedded in my palm.

Something rustled, and Mab Monroe stepped out of the shadows to my left.

The Fire elemental wore a long wool coat done in a dark forest green. Her red hair gleamed like polished copper, but her eyes were even blacker than the night sky. A bit of gold flashed around her pale throat in between the folds of her expensive coat.

I couldn't see that well, given the stars still exploding in my vision, but I knew what the gold flash was. Mab Monroe never went anywhere without wearing her signature rune necklace. A large, circular ruby surrounded by several dozen wavy rays. From previous sightings, I knew the intricate diamond cutting on the gold would catch the meager light and make it seem as though the rays were actually flickering. Or perhaps my vision was just that screwed up at the moment.

Still, I knew what the rune was. A sunburst. The symbol for fire. Mab Monroe's personal rune, used by her alone.

At the sight, the silverstone scars on my own palms started to itch and burn. Mab wasn't the only one here with a rune. I had one too. A small circle surrounded by eight thin rays. A spider rune. The symbol for patience. The rune had once been a medallion I'd worn on a chain around my neck, until Mab had used her Fire elemental magic to superheat and burn the silverstone metal into my palms like it was a cattle brand. That's how she'd tortured me the night she'd murdered my family. I was looking forward to returning the favor-someday soon.

Enemy, enemy, enemy; the little voice in the back of my head kept up its muttered chorus.

Mab Monroe walked over and stood beside Elliot Slater and Jonah McAllister. She glanced down at me with all the interest she might give a cockroach before she crushed it under the toe of her boot. Her dark eyes swallowed up the available light, the way a black hole might. I lay very, very still and tried to look like I was a mere inch away from death. Not much of a stretch tonight.

"I said enough, Jonah," Mab said. "Or have you forgotten that you and Elliot work for me?"

After a moment, Elliot Slater stepped back and bowed his head in deference. The other two giants did the same. But Jonah McAllister was too angry to heed the hard edge in Mab's breathy tone.

"This bitch made problems for my son, and I think she knows something about his death," McAllister barked. "I want her to pay for that. I want her to die for that."

Mab stared down at me again. "You're letting your emotions cloud your judgment, Jonah. Ignoring the facts. It's most unbecoming."

"And what would those facts be?" McAllister demanded.

"That Ms. Blanco is just a woman, a mere, weak woman with no elemental magic or other notable strength or skills. Otherwise, I'm sure she would have used everything at her disposal to keep from being so viciously beaten tonight. She's not the person you're looking for, Jonah. More importantly, she's not the woman I'm looking for."

McAllister's brown eyes glittered. "You and your obsession with that blond whore. Why can't you accept the fact that she's dead? Buried somewhere in that coal mine, just like Tobias Dawson and his two men were?"

Mab's eyes grew even blacker. She reached for her Fire elemental magic, holding the power close to her like she might a lover. As an elemental myself, I could feel her magic, especially since she was consciously embracing it. Just the way Mab might have been able to sense my Stone and Ice magic, if I'd been stupid enough to actually reach for any of it.

Of course, I would have felt Mab's magic anyway, since she was one of the elementals who constantly gave off waves of power. The Fire elemental literally leaked magic, the way water would drip from a faucet. Unlike me. As long as I didn't draw upon my own elemental strength, didn't use it in any offensive way, others couldn't sense my power. A trait that had saved me more than once over the years.

Mab's magic pricked my skin like hot, invisible needles, adding to my misery, but I stayed still, giving no indication I could sense it-or that I knew what they were talking about.

"I doubt that hooker was a real hooker, and they never found her body in the rubble of the collapsed mine," Mab replied in a cold voice. "Until I see her body, she's not dead. I'm going to find her, Jonah, and then we can both have our revenge. She killed Dawson, and she's the one who killed your son. Not Ms. Blanco."

They were talking about the night of Mab's party, when I'd dressed up as a hooker to get close to Tobias Dawson, a greedy mine owner who was threatening some innocent people. Dawson was the one I was supposed to kill that night, but Jake McAllister had spotted me before I'd had a chance to do the hit. Mab had caught me in the bathroom a few minutes after I'd stabbed Jake to death. Evidently, the Fire elemental had put two and two together and realized that I'd stiffed Jake, then done the same to Tobias Dawson later on in his own mine. Not good.

"I agreed to this little test with the understanding that Ms. Blanco would live through it, should she prove herself to be innocent of your son's murder," Mab continued. "She's done so, at least to my satisfaction. Nobody would willingly let herself be beaten the way she has."

So Mab didn't understand the concept of self-sacrifice. Not surprising. I might have laughed, if it wouldn't have hurt so much. Still, I was doubly glad that I'd let Elliot Slater hit me. Otherwise, I would have been dead by now, ambushed from the sidelines by Mab and her elemental Fire magic.

"Who cares if the bitch lives or dies?" Jonah McAllister scoffed. "She's nobody."

"That might be true, but unfortunately, Ms. Blanco is not without friends," Mab replied. "Most notably the Deveraux sisters."

"I don't care about those two dwarves," Jonah snapped. "You could easily kill both of them."

Mab gave a delicate shrug of her shoulders. "Perhaps. But Jo-Jo Deveraux is quite popular. It might be entertaining, but killing her wouldn't win me any favors. Besides, I have other concerns at the moment, most notably Coolidge."

My dazed mind latched onto the unfamiliar name. Coolidge? Who was Coolidge? And what had he done to piss off Mab Monroe?

"You've had your fun, Jonah. Face it, Ms. Blanco isn't the one who killed Jake. And she's suffered plenty tonight for whatever insults she laid on him previously. Now, are you going to come quietly so we can talk business? Or should I start looking for a new attorney?" Malice dripped from Mab's voice like acid rain.

Jonah McAllister finally realized he wasn't going to win this one. And that if he kept arguing with his boss, she was likely to use her Fire magic to fry him where he stood. So the lawyer clamped his lips together and nodded his head, acquiescing to his boss's wishes. At least for tonight.

Then the silver-haired bastard turned and kicked me in the stomach as hard as he could.

The blow wasn't entirely unexpected, but it still made me retch up even more blood. Something hot and hard twisted in my stomach. I needed to get to Jo-Jo Deveraux soon so the dwarven Air elemental could heal me. Otherwise, I wouldn't be breathing much longer.

"Fine. We'll move on to the next person, then." Jonah McAllister leaned down and grabbed my brown ponytail, pulling my face up to his. "You talk to the cops about this, bitch, and you will die. Understand me?"

Cops? Oh, I had no intention of going to the cops. No siree. I was going to handle this matter all by my lonesome. But to keep up the act, I let out a low groan and nodded my head. Satisfied that I was suitably cowed this time, McAllister let go. I flopped back onto the ground.

"Let's get out of here," the lawyer growled. "The bitch dripped blood all over my coat."

Jonah McAllister stepped over my prone body and disappeared into the darkness. Elliot Slater and the other two giants followed him. But Mab Monroe stayed where she was and studied me with her dark gaze. Her power washed over me again, the invisible, fiery needles pricking my bloody skin. I bit back another groan.

"I do hope you've learned your lesson this time, Ms. Blanco," Mab said in a pleasant voice. "Because Jonah's right. Next time you cross one of us-any of us-you will die. And I promise you that it will be far more excruciating than what you've experienced here tonight."

A bit of black fire flashed in her eyes, backing up her deadly promise. Mab Monroe smiled at me a moment longer, then turned on her boot heel and vanished into the cold night.

Chapter Two

After Mab left, I must have passed out from the pain. Because the next thing I knew, a pair of scuffed black boots were planted on the ground in front of me. Whether they belonged to friend or foe, well, I didn't much care at the moment. I just lay there, too beaten, bloody, and bruised to move. The cold blades of grass dug into my throbbing cheek like miniature icicles. The frosty chill felt good against my feverish skin.

A walkie-talkie squawked above my head, and someone started speaking. It took me a moment to focus on the clipped words.

"... a body on the southwest quad between the English and history buildings..."

A body? Didn't he realize I wasn't dead yet? He probably hadn't even checked for a pulse. Probably hadn't wanted to touch me, given all the blood. Couldn't blame him for that. Besides, this quad was close to Southtown, the part of Ashland where the homeless bums, junkies, vampire prostitutes, and other rough types lived. Mine wouldn't have been the first body to bleed out on the community college campus. Still, if I'd felt like it, I would have rolled my eyes. I wasn't dead-dead. Just halfway there.

I craned up my neck so I could see my would-be rescuer. One of the community college's rent-a-cops stood above me, a black walkie-talkie clipped to his shoulder like he was a real officer. He let go of a red button on the device, and another squawk sounded. I couldn't make out the first few garbled words, but I caught the gist of the conversation.

"... cops on their way..."

Jonah McAllister had warned me not to call the police, and I'd been planning on following his wishes. Not because I was afraid of the lawyer and what he might do to me, but because I intended to take care of McAllister myself-with no help and no outside interference. But it looked like the po-po were coming whether I wanted them to or not. Nothing I could do about it now.

So I put my head back down on the grass and closed my eyes. I already looked the part. Might as well play dead and rest up until the cops got here.

I wasn't sure how long I lay there on the ground, drifting in and out of consciousness, but the lights pulled me up out of the soft blackness I was swimming in. Red and blue lights swirled around and around far above my head. I squinted into the glare. Someone had parked a dark SUV on the grass a few feet away from me. The vehicle doors opened, and two pairs of boots hit the ground. One set definitely belonged to a man, a giant judging from the size. The shoes were almost as long as my arm. The other pair of boots were decidedly feminine, smaller and smartly cut with a low, sensible heel.

The boots crunched on the frosty grass and headed in my direction, joining the ones of the security guard. I got the sense the three of them were staring down at me.

"Is this how you found her? Just lying there like that?" The woman spoke in a voice that was as light and high and delicate as a set of wind chimes. It would have been a pure, lovely sound if not for the cold, flat resignation in her tone. Mine wasn't the first body she'd seen. Maybe not even the first one today.