Spider's Bite

Page 38

It was another gorgeous fall day. Cerulean blue sky, bright sun, clouds that were smoother than marshmallow creme. The cemetery stood on a plateau on top of one of the mountains that ringed Ashland and offered a spectacular view of the sprawling city and countryside below. The grass gleamed like gold underfoot, while the burnt sienna and scarlet leaves painted the landscape with even more color. The mountaintops around us were smoky blue smudges against the sky.
We ringed a plain wooden casket burnished to a high gloss. Fletcher hadn't wanted anything fancy, he hadn't been that kind of man, and Finn had respected his father's wishes. The preacher had just started the graveside service, and people were already weepy. Several of the waitstaff and cooks snuffled into tissues. The old men dabbed their eyes with white handkerchiefs. Finn did the same. Jo-Jo Deveraux bawled like a baby, unashamed of her many tears, even though they were ruining her makeup.
Sophia stood over her older sister, patting her back. The younger dwarf was dry-eyed, just like me. I'd cried my tears the night I'd found Fletcher's body. Now, I just felt ... empty. Hollow. Another piece of my heart was gone, and it was never coming back.
Just like all the other bits I'd lost over the years.
As the preacher spoke the traditional words of comfort, my mind drifted back to the day Fletcher had taken me in ...
My family had been gone nine weeks now. Maybe ten. Time had little meaning to me anymore. All that mattered was finding enough food for one more day and someplace that wasn't too cold to sleep at night. Something that was getting more difficult as winter approached. My favorite spot was next to this barbecue restaurant called the Pork Pit. A crack in the alley across from the back of the restaurant was just big enough for me to squeeze into. I liked the small, tight space and the muted contentment of the stones in the surrounding buildings. Both of them made me feel safe, even though I knew it was only an illusion.
Then there was the tall guy who ran the restaurant. Barbecue Man. That's what I called him. He knew I hung around out back, but he didn't yell or chase me away like the folks at the Italian and Chinese restaurants did. He even let me do odd jobs for him, like sweep out the stockroom. Last week I'd helped him defrost the freezers and clean these weird pink stains out of them.
He'd given me fifty bucks for a day's work. I'd used the money to buy a black fleece jacket, a turtleneck, and the thickest pair of gloves they had at the Goodwill store.
Barbecue Man was a lot nicer than the nuns over at the soup kitchen. They wanted to save your soul before they offered you so much as a glass of water. Hypocrites.
Barbecue Man had given me a hamburger a little over an hour ago for cleaning the gum off the tables in the front of the restaurant. I licked the last of the crumbs from my fingers, trying to make every single bite last. But Barbecue Man didn't skimp with the meat, and this was one night I wouldn't go hungry-one of a very few. The sandwich made me sleepy, and I curled into a tight ball and dozed off in my little crack, having survived another day on the streets of Ashland.
Sometime later, the stones woke me, their murmurs rising to a low, steady wail, thanks to the protection curls I'd set into the brick. My own sort of alarm, to keep me safe from the drugged-out bums, vampire prostitutes, and pimps. Something I'd seen one of the street elementals do, although she'd used fireballs to trigger her alarm instead of something else. Fire elementals had it so easy. They could use their magic to keep warm at night, and if somebody messed with them, they would get a face full of flames. Not for the first time, I wished I'd been born a Fire instead of a Stone.
I rubbed my eyes and sat up, clutching the loose brick in my lap. I'd used my magic to pry it out of one of the alley walls a few days ago. A pitiful weapon, but it was better than nothing. It only took me a moment to find the source of the alarm. A man stood in the shadows to my left. I stilled, hoping he wouldn't see me. I was very good at staying still and quiet. Being invisible was a necessary skill I'd perfected these past few weeks.
The back door of the restaurant opened, and Barbecue Man came out, carrying the last of the day's garbage. He whistled a cheery tune as he slung the refuse in the Dumpster.
The man stepped out of the shadows. He raised a gun and pointed it at Barbecue Man's back. And I realized he was going to kill him. He was going to shoot Barbecue Man.
"Watch out!" I screamed.
Barbecue Man turned. He saw the gun and jerked to one side. The shot went wide.
Barbecue Man threw himself on top of the other guy, and they fell to the alley floor.
Kicking, punching, cursing. The man with the gun crawled on top of Barbecue Man and wrapped his hands around his throat. Strangling him. He was going to kill Barbecue Man.
Unless I did something to stop it.
I'd seen plenty of horrible things on the street. People shot, stabbed, beaten. Bums strung out on drugs and jonesing for more. Elementals driven crazy by their own magic. Vampire hookers sucking the life out of folks who didn't pay their tab. I'd learned not to get involved in anyone else's problems. That was a quick way to die.
But Barbecue Man had been nice to me when no one else had. He didn't deserve to get robbed behind his own restaurant. Besides, if he died, I'd have to move on to somewhere else. And I didn't want to do that.
So I reached for my magic. I let the Stone power fill my veins, and I stared at the back of the Pork Pit, focusing my attention on the rust-colored bricks. One brick that was already loose began to move and vibrate, working itself free of the wall. The men continued to struggle. I sat there, holding my magic, waiting for my chance.
Barbecue Man clawed at the other guy's eyes, and the stranger pulled back, putting some space between them. All the opportunity I needed. I focused, and the vibrating brick flew out of the wall. The heavy stone struck the man in the temple, and his neck snapped to one side. I heard the crack all the way across the alley. A sound I'd heard before. The one that made me want to throw up. I'd broken his neck. I'd used my magic to kill yet again. What kind of monster was I?
Barbecue Man gasped in a deep breath. Then he shoved the other man off him and stood up. I huddled in my crack, wondering if Barbecue Man would call the cops. If he did, I'd use another brick. But just to stun him. I wasn't going to kill Barbecue Man. Not him.
Barbecue Man reached down and picked up the loose brick. He stared at me a moment, then turned and knelt beside the other man. Barbecue Man smashed the brick against the stranger's head three more times. Blood spurted everywhere. I clapped my hands over my mouth to keep from screaming.
"Fucking clients," Barbecue Man muttered. "Always wanting to double-cross you just so they can save a little money."
He dropped the brick and wiped his bloody hands on his blue apron, further staining the greasy material. Then he turned and walked over to me. I shrank back into my crack, my hands tightening around the brick in my lap.
Barbecue Man leaned down until his eyes were level with mine. Not for the first time, I noticed how bright and green his gaze was. Like the lights on a Christmas tree. It would be Christmas soon, but I wouldn't have a tree this year. No presents, no family, nothing. All of it gone, burned to ash by the Fire elemental.
"Thanks, kid," Barbecue Man said. "You helped me out of a tight spot there. What's your name?"
Barbecue Man wasn't doing anything threatening, but I could still sense the strength in his body. He was a dangerous man. I didn't want to do anything to upset him.
"Gen Gen " It was all I could get out. My full name was too much to say right now.
"Gin?" he asked. "Like the liquor?"
I nodded, too afraid to do anything else. Barbecue Man studied me, taking in my ripped jeans and the too-big shoes I'd dug out of the trash.
"Where's your family?" he asked in a not-unkind voice, considering the blood on his hands and apron. "Dead," I whispered. "Everyone's dead and gone."
Barbecue Man studied me for a moment longer, then nodded, as if he'd decided something. "You look hungry, Gin. Would you like to come inside and get something else to eat? Maybe clean up a bit? It's warm inside the restaurant." Oh, to be warm, if only for a little while. But I wasn't stupid. I didn't trust Barbecue Man. Not after what I'd just seen him do. But I had my magic and my will to survive.
If he tried anything, well, I supposed one more death on my conscience didn't much matter at this point. How much hotter could they make hell?
I nodded. "Yes, sir."
Barbecue Man straightened and held out his hand. I took it, and he pulled me to my feet, leading me inside ... "Gin?"
A pair of fingers snapped in front of my face, breaking through my memories. I jerked back and looked at Finn.
"Are you still with us?" Finn asked.
I shook away the rest of the old memory. "I'm sorry, what did you say?" He nodded his head at the casket. "I was asking if you wanted to throw your flower in now. Before they start covering up the casket."
Sometime during my trip down memory lane, the preacher had finished speaking, and the service had ended. A couple of guys in dirt-stained coveralls leaned on shovels in the distance, impatient to get on with their grungy work.
"Of course," I murmured.
I stepped forward. Finn had already tossed his flower in, and a white rose rested on top of the golden wood. So did two others, a pink rose from Jo-Jo and a black one from Sophia. I clutched my red rose. The thorns dug into the spider rune scar on my right palm, pricking my skin, drawing my blood, but I didn't care. I let out a deep breath and threw my rose on top of the others.
The petals spread out when they hit the surface of the casket, kissing it like I had the old man's face just before they'd shut the lid on him.
"Good-bye, Fletcher," I whispered.
Chapter Thirty-Two
One by one, the other mourners came over to Finn to pay him their respects and tell him how sorry they were about the old man. A few offered me their condolences as well, but most of the attention focused on Fletcher's son, not the stray girl he'd taken in off the streets. As it should be, I supposed.
During a lull, I wandered over to Roslyn Phillips. The vampire wore a somber black suit, but the subdued fabric did little to disguise the lush curves of her body. A matching pillbox hat perched on top of her head, and a faint breeze made the lacy veil flutter against her cheeks. I moved to stand beside her, and we both watched Finn talk to a dwarf bent double with rheumatism, arthritis, and old age.
"Good of you to come," I said in a soft voice. "I know it means a lot to Finn." Roslyn nodded. "I wanted to be here for him. The least I could do."
"You mean since you inadvertently got his father killed?"
The vampire stiffened like I'd just stabbed her with one of my knives. Her shocked eyes met mine. "How did you-"
"How did I figure it out?" I shrugged. "I'll admit it took me awhile. The whole time Alexis James was chasing me, I couldn't figure out why she'd picked me to set up or even how she'd found Fletcher in the first place. But she told me that night in the rock quarry. You heard her. She got the information from one of Gordon Giles's hooker friends, the one whose daughter was raped, the one I killed Cliff Ingles for." I stared at Roslyn. "Gordon had a whole stack of photos of himself with prostitutes, most of whom wore the heart-and-arrow necklace that's the signature for your club.
The hooker Alexis squeezed for information, she was one of your girls, wasn't she?" After a moment, Roslyn jerked her head in confirmation. No use denying it now.
"I imagine the hooker came to you, wanting time off to take care of her daughter, who'd been so brutally raped and beaten. You told her about Fletcher and Finn. That they could arrange certain ... accidents for people. When Alexis James had Stephenson pick her up, the hooker had to give them something to save her own skin-and she picked Fletcher and Finn."
"I thought I was doing her a favor. I never dreamed this would happen. If I'd known how it was going to turn out-" Roslyn started.
"Save it," I snapped. "It's done now. There's no changing it."
We stood there, side by side, and watched another mourner come up to Finn.
Tension radiated off Roslyn's body like cold did mine.
"Are you going to tell Finn?" she finally asked.
I waited a few seconds, letting her sweat. "No. There's no reason for him to know, and it would only sour things between the two of you."
"I really do care for him," Roslyn murmured.
I stared at her with my cold, gray eyes. "I know you do. And he cares for you, which is why I'm letting you live. That, and Catherine."
Roslyn frowned. "Catherine?"
"She needs you. I know what it's like to be without your family. That little girl deserves better." I turned so Roslyn felt the full force of my hard stare. "But if you ever mention what Finn and I do to anyone else, I will slice you up and burn the leftovers. And anything, anything, Finn or I need that you can provide, you will from now on until I say otherwise. No questions asked. Understood?"
After a moment, Roslyn slowly nodded. Relief shimmered in her eyes. She knew she'd made a mistake-and that I was letting her off easy.
"Good," I snapped. "Now go pay your respects to Finn, before I change my fucking mind."
I drifted away from the crowd and headed toward the very top of the cemetery.
Fletcher Lane wasn't the only person buried here that I'd known.
A series of five graves lay atop the ridge, shaded by a massive maple that seemed to pierce the sky with its arcing limbs. A stone statue had been mounted above the five plots, marking them. Even though thick curls of kudzu covered the stone and the rest of it had been pitted by the rain and wind, the shape was unmistakable. A giant snowflake. The rune of the Snow family, my murdered family.