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Heart of Venom

Page 8

   



She reached out and gently put a hand on the kid's scrawny shoulder. He was so thin that his collarbone jutted up against the top of his ratty T-shirt. The kid flinched at
Sophia's touch, and her mouth turned down, as though she were suddenly sad for some reason.
"Gin, get a cloth. Clean up."
I knew that it was for the kid, to wash the blood off his face, but I eyed the dwarf, wondering at the sudden change in her. I'd never seen Sophia go from being so gruff to so angry to so sad before, all in the matter of a minute.
But I went into the back, got a clean dish rag, and wet it with warm water. By the time I returned, Sophia had sat the kid down at one of the tables and had put the rest of the sugar cookies on a plate for him to eat, and he was gulping them down as fast as he could. Annoyance spurted through me, but he looked like he could use the calories more than I could, so I shrugged it off. Besides, I knew exactly what it felt like to be that hungry.
I handed Sophia the rag, and she managed to get the kid to stop eating cookies long enough for her to start wiping off his face. Once again, I stared at Sophia, amazed at how tender she was being and the care she took in dealing with him. She certainly wasn't that gentle with me whenever she picked me up and moved me out of her way. Then again, I didn't look like I'd just had my face run through the bottom of a blender either.
"More," she said a minute later, holding the dirty rag to me.
The kid used the lull to stuff another cookie into his mouth.
I rolled my eyes at her command, but I took the dirty rag, went into the back, exchanged it for a new, clean one, and soaked it with warm water. I had started to push through the double doors to step back out into the storefront when the bell over the front door chimed - and two giants burst into the restaurant.
"There he is!" one of the men screamed, stabbing his finger at the boy. "You dirty little thief!"
Sophia surged up onto her feet, stepping in front of the kid and trying to protect him, but the first giant was in a rage, and he rammed right into her, driving her all the way across the restaurant and back up against the counter.
I gasped, my hand strangling the warm rag that I was still holding.
The boy let out a frightened squeak. He got up to run, but the second giant snatched him by the back of his neck and drove a fist into his ribs. The boy dropped like a stone to the floor.
Sophia let out a bellow of rage at the sight. She snapped first one fist, then the other, up into the giant's chin, driving him back. And she didn't stop there. She threw punch after punch at the giant, driving her fists, fingers, and even her elbows into his chest, throat, and groin.
My mouth fell open a little more at her quick, brutal, efficient assault. I knew that Sophia was strong - she was a dwarf, after all - but I had no idea that she was such a total badass too. I wondered if this was a result of the training that Jo-Jo said that Fletcher had given her.
Sophia threw another punch at the giant, but this time, he managed to catch her hand in his. He squeezed her fingers, and I heard her bones pop from the brutal pressure. Sophia grunted with pain, and the giant slammed his fist into her face. She staggered back, her legs going out from under her and her head snapping against the counter. She too fell to the floor, unconscious.
The giant loomed over her, but when a minute passed and she didn't stir, he glanced over his shoulder at his buddy.
"What do we do now, Mason?" he asked.
The giant who'd hit the boy, Mason, grinned back at him.
"I say we see how much is in the cash register, grab everything we can from the back of the restaurant, and then dump their bodies outside on our way out the back door. What do you say, Zeke?"
The other giant returned his friend's evil grin with one of his own. "Sounds like a plan to me."
Mason grabbed the kid's leg and dragged him over to where Sophia lay, while Zeke went around the counter and started messing with the cash register.
I held my position behind the door and tried to think how I could stop them.
Because I was going to stop them.
Sure, Sophia might not be my favorite person, but she was Jo-Jo's sister, and Jo-Jo dearly loved her. Besides, I couldn't let the men kill her, much less a kid they'd already beaten and tortured, without trying to stop them. That would go against everything that Fletcher was teaching me about how to protect myself and especially the people that I cared about.
Through the door window, I risked another glance into the storefront, but the men were still busy with the cash register. My gaze kept going back to their massive fists. There was no way that I was a match for their strength. No, I needed a weapon if I had any chance of taking them down - I needed a knife.
I turned away from the door and ran back toward the storage room where Fletcher kept the extra vegetable knives, wondering if I could really do it, if I could really save Sophia, or if I'd end up being beaten to death along with her and the kid -
A soft thunk snapped me out of my memories.
One second, I was running through the restaurant on that night so long ago. The next, I was back in cooper's kitchen, the stench of Jo-Jo's blood saturating the air like the foulest sort of perfume.
cooper reached down and picked up something small and metal off the table. He held it up so we could all see the bloody bullet that he'd fished out of Jo-Jo's chest.
"One down," he murmured, setting it back down on the table. "One to go."
A few minutes later, another thunk sounded as cooper used his magic to pull the second bullet out of Jo-Jo.
"Now comes the hard part," he muttered.
cooper reached for even more of his Air magic, so much of it that a strong, steady breeze gusted through the kitchen, whipping up the sketches that he'd shoved onto the floor and whirling them around and around like a tornado. cooper let go of Jo-Jo's hand and held his palm up over her chest, right above the two bullet holes, his hand and fingers glowing a rich, warm bronze.
Slowly, very, very slowly, he started moving his hand back and forth over the wounds. And slowly, very, very slowly, the ugly black holes in Jo-Jo's skin started to pucker up and draw in on themselves. Several minutes later, her injuries had sealed up completely.
If Jo-Jo had been healing someone, his or her skin would have smoothed out, as though that person had never been shot in the first place. But the marks on Jo-Jo's chest remained red and puffy, like two large, angry blisters on her skin. cooper strained and strained with his magic, causing more and more Air currents to whip through the kitchen, but he couldn't get the wounds to fade out. Maybe he couldn't figure out how to do it, or maybe that level of finesse was simply beyond him.
Finally, cooper let go of his magic.
"There," he said, letting out a breath and wiping a sheen of sweat off his forehead. "That's the best that I can do."
"Will she live?" I asked in a low voice.
He kept staring at her, exhaustion and uncertainty etching deep lines into his face. "I got the bullets out, but she lost a lot of blood, and there was a lot of damage inside her that I didn't know how to fix. That I was afraid to try to fix, in case I ended up making everything worse instead. So I don't know. I just . . . I don't know."
He stepped back and staggered as his feet went out from under him. He would have fallen to the floor if Phillip hadn't stepped forward and grabbed him. Roslyn hurried to take cooper's other arm, and together they led him into the den so he could sit down and rest. He'd used up all of his Air magic, all of his great dwarven strength, trying to heal Jo-Jo - and it still might not have been enough to save her.
Bria moved over and gave my arm a sympathetic
squeeze before following the others into the den, leaving me alone with Jo-Jo. Well, Rosco and me. The basset hound got to his feet, walked over, and plopped down
beside the table, guarding his mistress once again. Normally, the dog spent most of his time snoozing in his basket in the salon, only deigning to get up for treats and tummy rubs. I couldn't ever remember seeing him this active. Then again, this was anything but an ordinary day. In the den, the low murmur of voices sounded. No doubt Bria was filling cooper and Phillip in on what had happened at the salon.
I carefully took Jo-Jo's hand in mine. Normally, she had the softest, warmest, gentlest hands of any person I knew, but right now, her skin was cool and clammy to the touch. Still, her breathing came easily enough, her chest rising and falling in a slow but steady rhythm. I slid my fingers down against her wrist, searching for her pulse. It too was slow but steady. The tight, tense pain that had pinched her brow had vanished, and her features were slack and relaxed.
I leaned down and put my mouth close to her ear.
"You rest easy, sweetheart. Because now that you're safe, I'm going to go get Sophia back - and put Harley Grimes in the ground for good."
I didn't know if Jo-Jo could hear me or not, but I'd made my promise to her, and I was going to keep it, no matter what.
But I couldn't do it standing there waiting for her to wake up. She wouldn't want that anyway. No, she'd want me to go after Sophia as soon as I could.
So I leaned down and kissed Jo-Jo's bloody cheek, then left her behind.
Chapter Eight
Rosco stayed in the kitchen with Jo-Jo while I headed into the den. cooper was sprawled across a worn, sagging, brown-striped sofa that had seen better days. He must have run his hand through his hair again, because his salt-and-pepper locks were standing straight up over his forehead.
"She seems to be resting comfortably," I said. "Thank you."
cooper nodded, and some of the tension eased out of his body, making him sink even deeper into the couch cushions. He cared about Jo-Jo too. We all did.
The patio door opened, and Roslyn stepped inside, holding a glass of iced tea. She must have poured it from the pitcher that had been left on the table outside. She handed the drink to cooper, and he slugged it down in one long swallow. He set the glass on an end table next to his elbow and leaned back against the couch once more.
"Now what?" Phillip asked, standing in front of the TV.
"Now I go get Sophia back."
He nodded. "Bria said Harley Grimes and Jo-Jo know each other?"
"Yeah," I said. "He, Sophia, and Jo-Jo have a history together. If you could call it that."
"What sort of history?" cooper asked.
"Grimes kidnapped Sophia years ago. He beat her, tortured her with his Fire magic - including ruining her voice - and then did a whole lot of other unspeakable things to her before Jo-Jo hired Fletcher to rescue Sophia.
And when Fletcher did, he made sure that Grimes knew that if he ever bothered Sophia and Jo-Jo again, he would wish he hadn't."
"But Fletcher's dead," Bria pointed out.
"I know. Grimes must have found out about his death and figured that the coast was clear. That's why he came to the salon today, and that's why he took Sophia again."
No one spoke for a moment.
"I've heard of Grimes," Phillip said. "Lives up on some mountain above Ashland, along with a bunch of his men."
Phillip kincaid was more than just a pretty face. He was also the owner of the Delta Queen riverboat casino and one of the major underworld bosses in town. So Phillip knew practically everyone who was involved in anything illegal in Ashland.
I fixed my gaze on him. "Tell me everything you know about Grimes."
He shrugged. "Not much. Just that he lives out in the woods in some sort of camp up on Bone Mountain.
Grimes and his men sell guns in and around the city, hire themselves out as muscle, things like that. Someone also told me that they even make their own moonshine, get all liquored up on it, come roaring into Ashland every once in a while, and tear shit up, despite some halfhearted attempts by the police to stop them. Only Grimes doesn't run from the law so much as put bullets in anyone who gets too close to his camp and his operations."
Now that Phillip mentioned them, I realized that
I'd heard some of the same stories about a moonshine swilling, gun-running gang holed up on top of one of the mountains. I just hadn't realized that it was Grimes and his crew. The guns must have been the mysterious business that he'd been talking about earlier. The one that had been booming ever since I'd killed Mab. Yeah, I could imagine that a lot of underworld folks had bought a lot of guns in their efforts to kill one another these past few months.
Good to know, but I needed more information if I had any chance of rescuing Sophia, like exactly where this camp was. I had a feeling that I'd find all that info and more at Fletcher's house. The old man had kept files on everyone who was up to no good in Ashland, and Harley Grimes would have been sure to be at the top of Fletcher's watch list, given what he'd done to the Deveraux sisters all those years ago.
"Thanks for the info, Phillip. I appreciate it, but I'll take it from here."
I started toward the patio door, but Bria moved to block my path.
"What are you going to do now?" she asked.
I shrugged. "What I do best. kill Grimes, Hazel, and everyone else who gets between me and Sophia."
Bria lifted her chin. "Fine. But I'm coming with you."
"No, you're not."
She slapped her hands on her hips in defiance. "Yes, I am - " Bria suddenly winced and dropped her hands to her stomach, as though she'd pulled a muscle.
My eyes narrowed. "What's wrong with you? Are you hurt?"
She grimaced, but she didn't answer me.
"Bria . . ."
She sighed and pulled up her T-shirt. A large, nasty, fist-shaped bruise blackened her side to the left of her belly button. "While you were chasing after Sophia, one of the guys in the salon hit me a few times before I put a couple of bullets in his chest. It's no big deal."