Spider's Bite Page 30


"Mab Monroe," I said, picking up on his train of thought. Finn nodded. "Mab Monroe."


"I still don't understand how that helps us," Donovan said.


"Blackmail," I replied. "We threaten to turn the information over to Mab unless Alexis James backs off and stops trying to kill us."


"We can also get her to withdraw the reward money on you and convince Wayne Stephenson to take an early retirement," Finn said. "You have to admit, it's neat, all the way around."


He grinned, extremely pleased with himself. I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't disagree with him. Finn had occasional flashes of brilliance and coming up with this kind of compromise was one of them.


"Alexis James is still going to die for what she did to my handler. There will be no argument about that. No threats and no hunting me down after the fact," I said. "Can you live with that, detective? If so, I can live with the rest of what Finn's proposing.


The bounty on me goes away, you bounce Stephenson out of the department, and we all get on with our lives."


Donovan Caine's hazel gaze darkened, and he stared into my gray eyes. After a moment, he nodded his head. "I can live with that. The question is how are we going to do it?"


"Easy," Finn said. "We sidle up to Alexis in a public place, drop the bomb on her, and wait for her to give in to our demands."


I shook my head. "Not Alexis, Haley. We go through Haley James." Donovan frowned.


"Why?"


"Because if she is involved, I get to add her to my list of things to do," I said. "And if she's not, well, she can start ducking for cover. That's what you let innocent people do, right?"


The detective didn't answer.


"So now all we have to do is find out where the sisters are going to be," Finn said.


"One step ahead of you." I pulled out my cell phone and hit another one of the speed dial numbers. The phone rang four times before she picked it up.


"Do y'all know what time it is?" Jo-Jo Deveraux muttered in my ear, although her slow, syrupy drawl took some of the bite out of her words.


I glanced at the clock on the wall. "It's Gin, and it's 3:07. I need some information and possibly a couple of invitations. Think you can handle it?"


Jo-Jo laughed. "For you, darling? Anything."


Chapter Twenty-Four


At four o'clock the next afternoon, I found myself in the elegant confines of Five Oaks, the snobbiest, most exclusive, and most highfalutin country club in Ashland.


Jo-Jo Deveraux had called earlier in the day with the info I'd needed-the next event on the James sisters' social calendar. Haley and Alexis, along with five hundred other invited guests, were due to attend an afternoon fund- raiser for a battered-women's shelter that was being held at the country club. Jo-Jo had pulled a few of her drama mama strings and managed to secure invitations for Donovan Caine and me. Finn had already been invited, given the fact he moved money around for most of those in attendance.


Now I stood in the club's spacious main ballroom, watching the flow of people and waiting for the James sisters to arrive. Five Oaks was a massive complex of five circular buildings, and the ballroom was in keeping with the grand scale of things.


The round room itself was several thousand feet wide and soared four stories into the air. A glass dome formed the ceiling, letting natural light stream down onto the club's members. Multiple sets of stairs led up to the upper levels, each of which featured a balcony that ringed the entire ballroom.


Floor-to-ceiling glass windows lined the curve of the back wall, along with two large doors that led out onto a wide stone patio. The impressive view showed off the club's smaller outbuildings, a series of acorn-shaped pools, tennis courts, and the smooth, green expanse, beige sand traps, and tall, colorful flags of the golf course.


People, clustered in small groups, talked, laughed, and sipped mint juleps on the main floor. Some had wandered up to have more private conversations on the second floor balcony. Others had taken their drinks and planted themselves at tables covered with pale peach linens. The country club's rune-an acorn-was stitched in gold thread in the center of each tablecloth. The event was going to feature a sit-down dinner later, but the booze and bullshit were already flowing.


I spotted several prominent vampires, elementals, dwarves, and giants in the crowd, each one doing their best to make their importance known to everyone else in attendance. But no one shone brighter than Mab Monroe. The Fire elemental looked polished and glamorous in a floor-length canary yellow gown. A fringed shawl covered her bare arms, and the ruby in her sunburst rune necklace flashed against her cleavage. Mab had planted herself in the exact center of the ballroom. People stood three deep around her, jockeying to get a moment of her attention. But Mab's giant guards for the evening kept the unwanted commoners from getting too close.


The other two members of the triangle of trouble were in attendance as well-Mab's lawyer, Jonah McAllister, and her enforcer, Elliot Slater. With his silver hair, snazzy suit, and capped teeth, McAllister looked every bit like the smooth talker he was.


Slater's seven-foot figure loomed large over the crowd. A diamond bigger than an eye winked on the giant's pinkie.


I stood near the back wall, just on the fringes of a group of businessmen dressed in dark suits. A few of them shot me appreciative looks, but the frigid chill in my gray eyes kept them from approaching me. At least until they'd had a few more drinks.


To blend in with the rich folks, I'd donned a simple but elegant black wrap dress Jo-Jo had given me for Christmas last year. The garment was made of a loose-knit material and featured long, billowing sleeves that hid my knives. The material fell to my knees, allowing me to strap two more blades to my thighs. My purse held another knife. Black stilettos covered my feet, and I'd twisted my hair into a high ponytail, complete with two razor-sharp chopsticks.


My cell phone rang, and I plucked it out of my purse. One of the businessmen eyed me.


"My husband," I said in a pleasant voice. "The giant. Such a protective man. Likes to know where I am all the time-and who I'm with."


He gulped and turned his attention back to his drink. Evidently I didn't look fuckable enough to risk tangling with a jealous giant.


I stepped a few feet away from the group of men and opened my phone. "Any sign of them?" "Not yet," Donovan Caine replied. "Although Finn seems to be enjoying himself at the bar."


I looked across the ballroom. After we'd entered the country club, we'd split up.


Together, we were too noticeable, too much of a target. It was easier and safer to get lost in the crowd. Finnegan Lane had ensconced himself at the bar just inside the main entrance. Like every other man on the premises, he wore a tailored suit. The classic cut of the navy fabric highlighted Finn's broad shoulders, while the light filtering through the glass roof made his brown hair gleam. He was currently chatting up a dwarf dripping with diamonds. The woman had to be over four hundred by the looks of her wrinkled skin, rheumy eyes, and snow-white hair. Probably some client of his.


Finn saw me staring. He winked, raised his glass in salute, and went back to his conversation. Very little could distract him when he was working or entertaining a lady-no matter how old she was. Finn might not sleep with the old ones, but he enjoyed charming them as much as he did the young stuff.


"Finn always has a good time at these things," I murmured. "Sometimes I think he should have been born a woman so he could be a true debutante."


Donovan chuckled through the phone. A low sound that warmed me from the inside out.


My eyes drifted up to the second floor. Donovan Caine leaned over the balcony above my head, his phone against his ear. The detective wore one of Finn's suits in a blue color so pale it was almost silver. Caine's shoulders weren't quite as wide as Finn's, so the jacket didn't drape perfectly. But I'd felt the strength in his lean muscles at the nightclub. He'd forgone a tie in favor of undoing the top button of his white dress shirt, which let more of his bronze skin peek through. Classic, rugged, sexy. Donovan Caine looked good enough to eat. Mmm.


Our eyes met, gold on gray. Not for the first time, I fantasized about having my way with the detective. About feeling his mouth on mine, his hands on my body, the hard length of him moving inside me. Just the idea made me ache.


Donovan Caine stared down at me. His hazel eyes darkened to the color of smoked whiskey as his gaze went from my breasts to my legs and back up again. His gaze met mine, but this time he didn't look away. Emotions flashed in his eyes like lightning.


Desire. Want. Need. Guilt. The detective was thinking about how much he wanted me.


About how our time together was coming to an end, and soon he'd officially have to go back to hating me. Donovan was thinking about how much he'd like to take what he could get today and hate himself for it tomorrow.


Me too. In that moment, I made my decision. The detective was going to be mine.


Before the evening was through.


Something caught Donovan's attention, and he glanced down. "There's Haley James. Just coming into the ballroom."


I moved to my right, farther away from the businessmen, so I could see Haley. She wore a short gold cocktail dress that set off her pale skin and blue-green eyes. The garment was a little risque for this early in the day, cut almost to her belly button in the front, with her cleavage swelling on either side of the severe V. Her strawberry-blonde hair was swept up into a chignon, and large diamond studs winked in her ears.


Finn had spotted Haley James too. He turned more toward the dwarf he was talking to, presenting his back to the rest of the room, although he cocked his head to one side so he could still see Haley. Unless things got out of hand, Finn's job was to sit at the bar and keep an eye on the sisters. I wanted to know how Haley and Alexis reacted after I dropped the flash drive bomb on them.


"I see Haley," I told Donovan. "Where's Alexis?" "Right behind her." I looked past Haley to see Alexis James stepping into the ballroom. Like me, Alexis wore a little black dress with matching pumps. The usual strand of pearls circled her throat and wrist, although she'd added a couple more ropes around her neck. My free hand curled into a tight fist. I'd like to choke the bitch with her own pearls, but that would be too good for her. Too easy a way for her to die. I might kill people quickly on jobs, but this went beyond business-this was personal. Alexis James was going to suffer every bit as much as Fletcher had.


And then some.


But the James sisters weren't alone. Captain Wayne Stephenson shuffled in the door behind them. The pudgy giant wore a white suit that made him look even wider than he really was. Even though the room was air- conditioned, Stephenson dabbed at the sheen of sweat on his forehead with one of his white handkerchiefs. Just being within sight of Alexis probably made him nervous. Two more men wearing dark suits stepped inside the ballroom behind the giant. One of them was Charles Carlyle's friend from the Cake Walk. The other man had been with Alexis the night she'd gone to Donovan Caine's cabin. They both stuck close to Stephenson, like ducks waddling after their mother. More of Alexis James's flunkies. So now she was taking her entourage out in public with her. Interesting.


Stephenson and the two goons were unimportant at this point, so I stayed on the phone with Donovan and watched the women, waiting for my chance to get Haley alone. It took the sisters about five minutes to maneuver past the bottleneck of people in front of the entrance. But once they did, they split up. Alexis waved at someone and headed in that direction. Stephenson and the two men also drifted that way. Haley grabbed a mint julep from one of the passing waiters and moved to sit at an unoccupied table near the center of the room. Perfect.


"Here I go," I said, glancing up at Donovan Caine. Caine nodded. "Good luck." I smiled. "I don't need luck, detective. I have something better-leverage." Cell phone in hand, I headed for Haley James. It took me the better part of two minutes to stalk across the ballroom carpet. My stilettos poked holes into the plush fabric, killing it one step at a time. Just like I was going to do to Alexis James in the near future. But I reached Haley without incident and dropped into the seat next to her. Alexis stood about fifty feet away, firmly entrenched in a group of people. She didn't notice me cozying up to her sister. Neither did Wayne Stephenson or the other two men, who stood behind Alexis. Good.


My sudden appearance startled Haley James, and she jerked back in her seat, almost knocking over her mint julep. Her wide blue-green eyes met my narrowed gray ones.


The cold knot of rage twitched in my chest, and for a moment, my emotions threatened to overwhelm me. Anger, rage, disgust. Part of me wanted to palm one of my knives, stab Haley, and melt away in the bloody, screaming confusion. Let Alexis feel the loss of her sister as keenly as I did Fletcher's death, if the Air elemental bitch could feel anything besides glee at torturing people.


But I'd promised Donovan Caine that I'd give the other woman a chance to prove her innocence. And I didn't go back on my word. No matter how much I might want to.


So I laid my cell phone on the table and smiled at the other woman. "Hello, Haley." She frowned. "Do I know you?"


I amped up my smile. "Well, sugar, we haven't officially met, but I'm sort of on your payroll. Your sister, Alexis, hired me to kill Gordon Giles."


It took a couple of seconds for my words to sink in. Haley frowned again, replaying what I'd said in her mind. An innocent woman, one who knew nothing about anything, would have vehemently denied the allegation. Been shocked and outraged by the accusation. Would have already been screaming bloody murder about sitting next to a self-proclaimed assassin. Instead, Haley's face shuttered, and her eyes narrowed to slits. Oh yeah, she was in this all right-up to her fucking neck.