Black Widow
Page 55
Bria ostensibly let him march her away, although she kept shooting dark looks back over her shoulder at Madeline. I had to hand it to my baby sister and the rest of my friends. They’d done an excellent job pretending that I was dead.
Still, given the small chance that Madeline hadn’t bought our charade, I slipped behind a tree about thirty feet away from my grave, bent down, and started dusting the leaves and twigs off a tombstone, as if I were also visiting that person before leaving the cemetery. But Madeline never even glanced in my direction.
The rest of my friends, family, and legions of adoring enemies headed back to their cars, but Madeline, Emery, and Jonah stayed beside my casket. Madeline stared at Finn and Bria, watching as they walked over to Sophia’s classic convertible and slid into the backseat. Sophia and Jo-Jo got into the car as well, and the four of them drove away. Xavier and Roslyn departed, and so did Owen, Eva, Violet, and Warren. Phillip and Cooper left together, and Silvio and Catalina drifted away with the rest of the staff from the Pork Pit.
“What are you going to do about Coolidge?” Emery asked. “She’s not going to give up. Now that Dobson’s dead, she’s already challenging his supposed investigation into her. She has enough friends in the department to get her job back. If that happens, she could make trouble.”
“She can try, but she’s not nearly as dangerous as Blanco was,” Madeline replied. “None of them are. So they get to live—for now. Besides, I’m not done with them yet. Just because their beloved Gin is dead is no reason for them not to suffer even more before they join her. Don’t you agree?”
Emery’s low, evil laughter matched Madeline’s.
“Besides, without Gin around to protect them, it will be all the more amusing to see how they deal with the problems we send their way.”
Jonah cleared his throat, finally getting into the conversation. “Needling Blanco’s loved ones is all well and good, but we need to focus on the matter at hand—the party tomorrow night.”
Madeline and Emery both gave him a flat look. They didn’t care to be interrupted when they were plotting someone else’s pain and suffering. Jonah took a step back and smoothed down his tie. I wondered if he could see how clearly numbered his days in Madeline’s employ were. It wouldn’t surprise me if she killed him anytime now, since I was apparently dead and out of the picture. Perhaps Emery would string him up like a piñata, and she and Madeline would take turns whacking him. Now, that would be a party.
“Well, Jonah,” Madeline drawled, “you are actually right about something—for a change. We do need to focus on the party. I assume that you’ve handled things on your end?”
Jonah’s head snapped up and down as he hurried to reassure her. “Of course. I started sending out the invitations this morning. All the underworld bosses have gotten theirs by now. They will all be too curious and afraid not to come.”
“Oh, I’m counting on it,” Madeline murmured. “Let’s go. I’m done here.”
She and Emery both turned their backs to Jonah and strolled away. The lawyer swallowed and followed them, although his steps were much slower than theirs. His obvious misery at his new, tenuous status in life filled me with dark satisfaction.
But I was going to get even more satisfaction when I crashed Madeline’s party.
* * *
The rest of the stragglers left, and a couple of guys in blue coveralls appeared, along with another one driving a small tractor with a crane attached to it. I held my position by the tombstone and eyed the men since I’d been attacked by gravediggers at Mab’s funeral as part of one of Jonah’s many plots to kill me. But the men ignored me, took a couple of swigs from the thermoses full of coffee they’d brought along, grabbed their shovels, and got to work.
An hour later, a car cruised through the cemetery, following the winding path. By that point, the gravediggers and the guy on the tractor had gone, having finished their work. What was left of the casket spray of pink and white roses rested atop the disturbed, black earth. Behind the roses, my tombstone rose up, with my spider rune carved into the center of it. The mark was the same size as the scars on my palms.
I was crouching down in front of the tombstone, staring at the words on the glossy, gray granite surface—Gin Blanco, beloved daughter, sister, and friend. Gone too soon.
That last line had been Jo-Jo’s idea. Heh. Not everyone would think that, not after what I had planned.
The car stopped, the door opened, and Owen got out. He walked over to my side and stared down at the tombstone, his violet eyes dark and unreadable. Owen hadn’t said much these past few days. Pretending that I was dead had been harder on him than anyone else. At night, when we were in bed together, he loved me with furious feeling, as if I might disappear if he didn’t hold on to me tightly enough. And I returned the favor.
Because we both knew that I could still die before this was all said and done.
But neither of us mentioned that uncomfortable fact, as if by not talking about it, that wouldn’t make it the very real possibility that it was.
“What are you thinking about?” Owen finally asked.
I stared at the tombstone that featured the day of my supposed death for a few more seconds, then rose to my feet. “I’m thinking that this is the second time that I’ve supposedly been buried in this cemetery, thanks to a Monroe.”
I looked up the ridge where the Snow family was buried. A tombstone with my real name—Genevieve Snow—squatted up there, along with one that bore Bria’s name as well. Our mother, Eira, and older sister, Annabella, were actually entombed up there, along with our father, Tristan.
“It must be strange,” Owen said. “Seeing how the world, how people, just . . . go on without you.”
I shrugged. It wasn’t strange so much as it was sad, but I wasn’t about to confess that to him. Not now, anyway.
“I don’t know if I could do that,” he said, his voice dropping to a ragged whisper. “Go on without you. I wouldn’t know how to do that.”
“You would find a way, and I would want you to.” I stepped into his arms and cradled his face in my hands. “But you don’t have to worry about that because I’m not going anywhere. You should know by now that I’m very, very good at surviving. Even when I’m up against someone as dangerous as Madeline.”
Still, given the small chance that Madeline hadn’t bought our charade, I slipped behind a tree about thirty feet away from my grave, bent down, and started dusting the leaves and twigs off a tombstone, as if I were also visiting that person before leaving the cemetery. But Madeline never even glanced in my direction.
The rest of my friends, family, and legions of adoring enemies headed back to their cars, but Madeline, Emery, and Jonah stayed beside my casket. Madeline stared at Finn and Bria, watching as they walked over to Sophia’s classic convertible and slid into the backseat. Sophia and Jo-Jo got into the car as well, and the four of them drove away. Xavier and Roslyn departed, and so did Owen, Eva, Violet, and Warren. Phillip and Cooper left together, and Silvio and Catalina drifted away with the rest of the staff from the Pork Pit.
“What are you going to do about Coolidge?” Emery asked. “She’s not going to give up. Now that Dobson’s dead, she’s already challenging his supposed investigation into her. She has enough friends in the department to get her job back. If that happens, she could make trouble.”
“She can try, but she’s not nearly as dangerous as Blanco was,” Madeline replied. “None of them are. So they get to live—for now. Besides, I’m not done with them yet. Just because their beloved Gin is dead is no reason for them not to suffer even more before they join her. Don’t you agree?”
Emery’s low, evil laughter matched Madeline’s.
“Besides, without Gin around to protect them, it will be all the more amusing to see how they deal with the problems we send their way.”
Jonah cleared his throat, finally getting into the conversation. “Needling Blanco’s loved ones is all well and good, but we need to focus on the matter at hand—the party tomorrow night.”
Madeline and Emery both gave him a flat look. They didn’t care to be interrupted when they were plotting someone else’s pain and suffering. Jonah took a step back and smoothed down his tie. I wondered if he could see how clearly numbered his days in Madeline’s employ were. It wouldn’t surprise me if she killed him anytime now, since I was apparently dead and out of the picture. Perhaps Emery would string him up like a piñata, and she and Madeline would take turns whacking him. Now, that would be a party.
“Well, Jonah,” Madeline drawled, “you are actually right about something—for a change. We do need to focus on the party. I assume that you’ve handled things on your end?”
Jonah’s head snapped up and down as he hurried to reassure her. “Of course. I started sending out the invitations this morning. All the underworld bosses have gotten theirs by now. They will all be too curious and afraid not to come.”
“Oh, I’m counting on it,” Madeline murmured. “Let’s go. I’m done here.”
She and Emery both turned their backs to Jonah and strolled away. The lawyer swallowed and followed them, although his steps were much slower than theirs. His obvious misery at his new, tenuous status in life filled me with dark satisfaction.
But I was going to get even more satisfaction when I crashed Madeline’s party.
* * *
The rest of the stragglers left, and a couple of guys in blue coveralls appeared, along with another one driving a small tractor with a crane attached to it. I held my position by the tombstone and eyed the men since I’d been attacked by gravediggers at Mab’s funeral as part of one of Jonah’s many plots to kill me. But the men ignored me, took a couple of swigs from the thermoses full of coffee they’d brought along, grabbed their shovels, and got to work.
An hour later, a car cruised through the cemetery, following the winding path. By that point, the gravediggers and the guy on the tractor had gone, having finished their work. What was left of the casket spray of pink and white roses rested atop the disturbed, black earth. Behind the roses, my tombstone rose up, with my spider rune carved into the center of it. The mark was the same size as the scars on my palms.
I was crouching down in front of the tombstone, staring at the words on the glossy, gray granite surface—Gin Blanco, beloved daughter, sister, and friend. Gone too soon.
That last line had been Jo-Jo’s idea. Heh. Not everyone would think that, not after what I had planned.
The car stopped, the door opened, and Owen got out. He walked over to my side and stared down at the tombstone, his violet eyes dark and unreadable. Owen hadn’t said much these past few days. Pretending that I was dead had been harder on him than anyone else. At night, when we were in bed together, he loved me with furious feeling, as if I might disappear if he didn’t hold on to me tightly enough. And I returned the favor.
Because we both knew that I could still die before this was all said and done.
But neither of us mentioned that uncomfortable fact, as if by not talking about it, that wouldn’t make it the very real possibility that it was.
“What are you thinking about?” Owen finally asked.
I stared at the tombstone that featured the day of my supposed death for a few more seconds, then rose to my feet. “I’m thinking that this is the second time that I’ve supposedly been buried in this cemetery, thanks to a Monroe.”
I looked up the ridge where the Snow family was buried. A tombstone with my real name—Genevieve Snow—squatted up there, along with one that bore Bria’s name as well. Our mother, Eira, and older sister, Annabella, were actually entombed up there, along with our father, Tristan.
“It must be strange,” Owen said. “Seeing how the world, how people, just . . . go on without you.”
I shrugged. It wasn’t strange so much as it was sad, but I wasn’t about to confess that to him. Not now, anyway.
“I don’t know if I could do that,” he said, his voice dropping to a ragged whisper. “Go on without you. I wouldn’t know how to do that.”
“You would find a way, and I would want you to.” I stepped into his arms and cradled his face in my hands. “But you don’t have to worry about that because I’m not going anywhere. You should know by now that I’m very, very good at surviving. Even when I’m up against someone as dangerous as Madeline.”
