The Spider
Page 21
Either way, I didn’t get a chance to question him further, because we’d arrived at the estate. Xavier dropped me off at the front of the mansion, then drove the car around to the back.
Sebastian was waiting for me at the top of the steps outside the mansion. Like Xavier, he wore a classic tuxedo that fit him perfectly. The black jacket and pants showed off the sleek lines of his body, while the white shirt hinted at the hard muscles underneath. His black hair was slicked back in an artful style. His face split into a wide smile when he saw me, one that made his eyes light up like dark, polished gems.
He was the epitome of suave and sexy, but even more than that, the good, kind man underneath the suit made my heart speed up.
He sauntered down the steps and offered me his hand. “You look amazing,” he said in a husky voice. “Although seeing you like this makes me want to take you inside and peel that dress off you—slowly.”
I couldn’t help the blush that blossomed in my cheeks and the heat that thrummed through my body. So far, Sebastian and I hadn’t gone beyond kissing and some heavy petting, but I was no virgin, and neither was he. I could tell how much he wanted me whenever we were together, but he’d respected my wishes not to take that next step.
Tonight, though . . . I felt like anything could happen.
“Thanks,” I murmured back. “I might take you up on that later.”
He kept his eyes on mine as he raised my hand to his lips. The chaste kiss he brushed across my knuckles sent another hot spike of anticipation through me. “It’s a date, Gin.”
Yes, it was—and a promise of pleasure to come.
His lips lingered on my skin a moment before he straightened up and tucked my arm through his. “Are you ready for tonight?”
“It’s your night,” I said, smiling up at him. “I’m just your sidekick, remember?”
He let out a low, throaty laugh. “Yes, I suppose tonight is my night in many ways. I’ve worked hard to get here, and now it’s finally happening.”
I frowned, wondering what he meant, but Sebastian gave me another winning smile.
“Actually, if things go well, I thought that we might sneak out of the party a little early. Have a quiet drink and talk—about us.”
“Us?”
My heart hammered in my chest, so loud that I thought he would hear it. I’d been so happy being with Sebastian these last two weeks that I hadn’t thought much about the future, other than my stupid daydreams. I hadn’t let myself think about it, because I knew that as soon as I found Vaughn’s file or Fletcher figured out what was bothering him about the job, I wouldn’t have an excuse to see Sebastian anymore. Fletcher would insist that I break things off with him, and rightfully so. But Sebastian’s serious tone indicated that he’d given a lot of thought to the future and that he wanted me to be a part of his.
“Gin? Are you okay?”
“Of course,” I said in a smooth voice, hiding the turbulent emotions racing through me. “But don’t you think that it’s a little soon to be talking about the future? We’ve only been seeing each other a couple of weeks.”
“I know it’s soon, but I also know exactly how I feel about you. And I think I know how you feel about me too. So what do you say? Let’s slip away from the party later, have a drink, and talk. Okay?”
He smiled again, and I was simply . . . lost.
The same way that I’d been lost ever since that first night when I’d talked to him outside the library at Dawson’s mansion. And again when he’d kissed me inside the Pork Pit. And yet again when he’d arranged that romantic dinner for us. And all of the sweet, wonderful, thoughtful things that he’d done for me since then.
“Gin?”
I stared into his eyes, letting myself drown in them, in him, yet again. “I’d love that.”
Just like I love you.
The words rose unbidden in my mind. For a moment, everything just stopped. Then my brain kicked back into gear, and I realized that my heart was hammering even harder than before.
Because the words were true—so very true.
Assassins weren’t supposed to fall in love. Oh, it wasn’t one of Fletcher’s hard-and-fast rules, but it was one of those things that simply went without saying. Because how could someone ever really know you, much less ever truly love you, when you spent your life in the shadows? When you went from one dirty job and violent confrontation to the next? When being an assassin was what made you, well, you, for better or worse?
It was bad enough that I’d been foolish enough to fall for someone, but the unavoidable thing, the really terrible thing, the truly insurmountable thing, was the fact that I was in love with the son of the man I’d killed and that Sebastian would hate me if he ever found out the truth.
I’d never thought much about irony before, but I couldn’t escape it, not now, when it felt as sharp as one of my own knives buried in my heart and twisting in deeper and deeper. Oh, yes, irony was a capricious bitch, just like luck.
“Gin?”
I gave him another smile, hiding my inner turmoil, then stood on my tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “I would love to talk about our future—later. Right now, though, we’ve got a party to attend.”
Sebastian grinned, tightened his grip on my arm, and led me up the stairs and into the mansion. For a moment, I felt a sinking sense of déjà vu. I’d jokingly told Fletcher that I wasn’t some character out of a fairy tale, doomed to heartbreak, that I wasn’t Cinderella, but that’s exactly who and what I was tonight, because my time with Sebastian was rapidly running out.
And there was nothing that I could do to keep the clock from striking midnight.
Sebastian led me to the grand ballroom on the second floor of the mansion.
It looked like a scene out of one of those old Hollywood movies that Sophia loved to watch. The wooden parquet floor had been waxed until it glinted like gold underfoot, while the crystal chandeliers dripped down from the ceiling like clusters of diamonds, throwing out rainbow sprays of color in every direction. Vases full of those dark blue roses perched in alcoves in the walls, adding more color to the scene. Food tables had been set up around the perimeter of the room, along with several elemental Ice bars, the frosty surfaces steaming slightly underneath the heat from the lights. Members of an orchestra were checking their instruments and warming up in the back corner of the room. Sebastian had had people working around the clock the last few days to get ready for the party, and it had more than paid off. The ballroom had been transformed from a simple open space into a place of lush, opulent elegance.
“What do you think?” Sebastian asked.
“It’s beautiful.”
“I’m glad you think so, miss,” another voice cut in.
A dwarven woman strode into the ballroom behind us. She held a clipboard in her hand, while a black plastic headset was clamped down over her frizzy black hair. I blinked. Meredith Ruiz. The same event planner who’d put together the dinner at Tobias Dawson’s mansion.
Meredith’s gaze took in my silver dress, shoes, and purse. I waited for her eyes to narrow and sharpen, but all she did was turn up the wattage on her bland, polite smile. She didn’t recognize me. Why would she? I wasn’t one of the waitresses she could bully around, so I was of no use to her.
She turned to Sebastian. “Now, sir, if you’ll step over to the patio doors with me, there’s something that I need to discuss with you . . .”
Meredith grabbed his arm and led him away, but I stayed where I was, looking at first one thing, then another. The glistening chandeliers, the silver platters of gourmet food, the golden champagne that the bartenders were pouring into delicate crystal flutes. I was so focused on the sights that it took me a few moments to realize that the stone walls of the ballroom were whispering. But not with pride at how the room had been transformed.
No, the stones muttered with malice and ill intent.
I frowned, reaching out with my magic, wondering why the stones were so upset. Now that Vaughn was dead, I’d thought that the harsh whispers would slowly start to fade away, but instead, it seemed as if they’d only intensified since I’d last been in the mansion a few days ago—
“Sorry about that,” Sebastian said, coming back over to me. “Apparently, there’s a last-minute problem with the new fountain that I ordered for the lawn. I wanted the jets hidden inside it to put on a water show to the orchestra music, but the event planner says that Mr. Stills, the blacksmith installing the fountain, tells her that it’s not possible on such short notice.” He shrugged, as though it were a minor inconvenience. “In the meantime, shall we?”
Sebastian held out his arm to me. I shut the sounds of the muttering stones out of my mind, took it, and let him lead me deeper into the ballroom.
Sebastian’s guests started arriving shortly after that. I stood by his side inside the ballroom doors. He shook hands with every single person, thanking them all for coming and offering them all a hearty smile. Sometimes he would engage them in brief conversation. Other times, the guests would wander off in search of food and drink. But more than a few folks lingered around the door, wanting some face time with the man of the hour. In fact, so many people clustered around him that I soon had to stand against the wall so I wouldn’t be swept away from him entirely.
Sebastian didn’t introduce me to anyone, but I didn’t mind. This was his night, and I preferred to stay in the background, anyway. I was thinking about slipping away to get a drink when Mab Monroe walked through the open doors.
The Fire elemental was dressed in a strapless velvet gown in a deep, bloody crimson that somehow set off her creamy skin and coppery hair at the same time. Her makeup was expertly applied, her eyes made even blacker by the heavy liner and shadow that rimmed them. In contrast, her sunburst necklace flashed like a ring of wavy golden fire around her throat, the ruby in the middle sparking like an ember about to ignite.
The crowd around Sebastian quieted and fell away at Mab’s slow approach, and suddenly, I was the only one standing next to him. He reached out and gripped my hand, his palm sweaty against mine. Surprised, I looked at him. He hadn’t had any problems greeting any of the other power players. But then again, this was Mab, queen of them all, the person most likely to burn you to death on the spot for the smallest perceived slight.
Sebastian bowed his head as Mab stopped in front of him. “Ms. Monroe. What an honor to welcome you to my estate tonight.” He held out his hand.
She gave him a slow once-over, then took his hand in hers. “Being the man of the manor seems to suit you, Sebastian,” Mab murmured, her crimson lips curving up into a small smile, as though she’d made some sort of joke.
He nodded at her in return, but Mab didn’t notice. Instead, she looked past him at me. Her black gaze flicked over me, far less interested than she’d been in Sebastian, but she did the polite thing and held out her hand.
I had no choice but to take it.
Tiny, invisible needles started stabbing into my body the second her warm fingers closed over my cool ones. I’d thought that Mab’s Fire magic had felt intense when I’d been spying on her through the windows at Dawson’s mansion, but the sensation was worse now that I was face-to-face with her—so much worse. My skin felt hot enough to spontaneously combust and the bones underneath liquefy just by touching her. No wonder so many people feared her. All it would take would be the merest wave of her hand to reduce all but the strongest elemental to charred ash. More than once, I’d wondered if Mab could be the Fire elemental who’d murdered my family. She certainly had the magic for it, although I couldn’t imagine why she would have targeted any of us.
I had to grind my teeth to keep the pleasant, bland smile fixed on my face as I held her hand, but I managed it. Because if there was one thing that I could not afford to do, it was to draw attention to myself from the likes of Mab Monroe or let her know that I could feel her magic.
Mab quickly dropped my hand and moved farther out into the ballroom, trailed by Elliot Slater, who’d apparently come along as her bodyguard tonight. I looked around, wondering if someone else might be with her, since Fletcher had mentioned that there was another Monroe on the guest list, someone with initials instead of a first name. But I didn’t see anyone following along behind Mab or Slater, so I focused on Sebastian again.
He grinned at me. “Well, I guess that went about as well as could be expected.”
I shrugged. Anything that didn’t involve Mab Monroe killing you outright should be considered a victory.
But the next person through the doors surprised me even more than the Fire elemental did: Harry Coolidge.
Like everyone else, he’d dressed up in a black tuxedo, although he kept fiddling with his bow tie, as if he wasn’t used to wearing one. Probably not, given that horrible rose-patterned shirt that I’d seen him sporting at the construction compound. Still, the cop cut a handsome figure, and he wasn’t alone.
A woman and a young girl stepped into the ballroom behind him. The woman’s strawberry-blond hair was swept up into a bun, and her blue eyes were kind in her round face. She wore a modest blue evening gown that clung to what curves she had, and a simple string of small pearls gleamed around her throat. Matching pearl studs adorned her ears.
But it was the girl who captured my attention and made my heart squeeze painfully in my chest—she looked just like Bria.
Long blond hair, rosy cheeks, big blue eyes. The girl couldn’t be more than fourteen or fifteen, but she was already stunningly pretty, like a perfect porcelain doll come to life. She wore a simple white dress with a blue ribbon cinched around the waist. A matching blue ribbon circled her throat, although she kept rubbing the blue cameo that dangled off the end between her fingers, as though it annoyed her in the same way that Coolidge’s bow tie bothered him.
Sebastian was waiting for me at the top of the steps outside the mansion. Like Xavier, he wore a classic tuxedo that fit him perfectly. The black jacket and pants showed off the sleek lines of his body, while the white shirt hinted at the hard muscles underneath. His black hair was slicked back in an artful style. His face split into a wide smile when he saw me, one that made his eyes light up like dark, polished gems.
He was the epitome of suave and sexy, but even more than that, the good, kind man underneath the suit made my heart speed up.
He sauntered down the steps and offered me his hand. “You look amazing,” he said in a husky voice. “Although seeing you like this makes me want to take you inside and peel that dress off you—slowly.”
I couldn’t help the blush that blossomed in my cheeks and the heat that thrummed through my body. So far, Sebastian and I hadn’t gone beyond kissing and some heavy petting, but I was no virgin, and neither was he. I could tell how much he wanted me whenever we were together, but he’d respected my wishes not to take that next step.
Tonight, though . . . I felt like anything could happen.
“Thanks,” I murmured back. “I might take you up on that later.”
He kept his eyes on mine as he raised my hand to his lips. The chaste kiss he brushed across my knuckles sent another hot spike of anticipation through me. “It’s a date, Gin.”
Yes, it was—and a promise of pleasure to come.
His lips lingered on my skin a moment before he straightened up and tucked my arm through his. “Are you ready for tonight?”
“It’s your night,” I said, smiling up at him. “I’m just your sidekick, remember?”
He let out a low, throaty laugh. “Yes, I suppose tonight is my night in many ways. I’ve worked hard to get here, and now it’s finally happening.”
I frowned, wondering what he meant, but Sebastian gave me another winning smile.
“Actually, if things go well, I thought that we might sneak out of the party a little early. Have a quiet drink and talk—about us.”
“Us?”
My heart hammered in my chest, so loud that I thought he would hear it. I’d been so happy being with Sebastian these last two weeks that I hadn’t thought much about the future, other than my stupid daydreams. I hadn’t let myself think about it, because I knew that as soon as I found Vaughn’s file or Fletcher figured out what was bothering him about the job, I wouldn’t have an excuse to see Sebastian anymore. Fletcher would insist that I break things off with him, and rightfully so. But Sebastian’s serious tone indicated that he’d given a lot of thought to the future and that he wanted me to be a part of his.
“Gin? Are you okay?”
“Of course,” I said in a smooth voice, hiding the turbulent emotions racing through me. “But don’t you think that it’s a little soon to be talking about the future? We’ve only been seeing each other a couple of weeks.”
“I know it’s soon, but I also know exactly how I feel about you. And I think I know how you feel about me too. So what do you say? Let’s slip away from the party later, have a drink, and talk. Okay?”
He smiled again, and I was simply . . . lost.
The same way that I’d been lost ever since that first night when I’d talked to him outside the library at Dawson’s mansion. And again when he’d kissed me inside the Pork Pit. And yet again when he’d arranged that romantic dinner for us. And all of the sweet, wonderful, thoughtful things that he’d done for me since then.
“Gin?”
I stared into his eyes, letting myself drown in them, in him, yet again. “I’d love that.”
Just like I love you.
The words rose unbidden in my mind. For a moment, everything just stopped. Then my brain kicked back into gear, and I realized that my heart was hammering even harder than before.
Because the words were true—so very true.
Assassins weren’t supposed to fall in love. Oh, it wasn’t one of Fletcher’s hard-and-fast rules, but it was one of those things that simply went without saying. Because how could someone ever really know you, much less ever truly love you, when you spent your life in the shadows? When you went from one dirty job and violent confrontation to the next? When being an assassin was what made you, well, you, for better or worse?
It was bad enough that I’d been foolish enough to fall for someone, but the unavoidable thing, the really terrible thing, the truly insurmountable thing, was the fact that I was in love with the son of the man I’d killed and that Sebastian would hate me if he ever found out the truth.
I’d never thought much about irony before, but I couldn’t escape it, not now, when it felt as sharp as one of my own knives buried in my heart and twisting in deeper and deeper. Oh, yes, irony was a capricious bitch, just like luck.
“Gin?”
I gave him another smile, hiding my inner turmoil, then stood on my tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “I would love to talk about our future—later. Right now, though, we’ve got a party to attend.”
Sebastian grinned, tightened his grip on my arm, and led me up the stairs and into the mansion. For a moment, I felt a sinking sense of déjà vu. I’d jokingly told Fletcher that I wasn’t some character out of a fairy tale, doomed to heartbreak, that I wasn’t Cinderella, but that’s exactly who and what I was tonight, because my time with Sebastian was rapidly running out.
And there was nothing that I could do to keep the clock from striking midnight.
Sebastian led me to the grand ballroom on the second floor of the mansion.
It looked like a scene out of one of those old Hollywood movies that Sophia loved to watch. The wooden parquet floor had been waxed until it glinted like gold underfoot, while the crystal chandeliers dripped down from the ceiling like clusters of diamonds, throwing out rainbow sprays of color in every direction. Vases full of those dark blue roses perched in alcoves in the walls, adding more color to the scene. Food tables had been set up around the perimeter of the room, along with several elemental Ice bars, the frosty surfaces steaming slightly underneath the heat from the lights. Members of an orchestra were checking their instruments and warming up in the back corner of the room. Sebastian had had people working around the clock the last few days to get ready for the party, and it had more than paid off. The ballroom had been transformed from a simple open space into a place of lush, opulent elegance.
“What do you think?” Sebastian asked.
“It’s beautiful.”
“I’m glad you think so, miss,” another voice cut in.
A dwarven woman strode into the ballroom behind us. She held a clipboard in her hand, while a black plastic headset was clamped down over her frizzy black hair. I blinked. Meredith Ruiz. The same event planner who’d put together the dinner at Tobias Dawson’s mansion.
Meredith’s gaze took in my silver dress, shoes, and purse. I waited for her eyes to narrow and sharpen, but all she did was turn up the wattage on her bland, polite smile. She didn’t recognize me. Why would she? I wasn’t one of the waitresses she could bully around, so I was of no use to her.
She turned to Sebastian. “Now, sir, if you’ll step over to the patio doors with me, there’s something that I need to discuss with you . . .”
Meredith grabbed his arm and led him away, but I stayed where I was, looking at first one thing, then another. The glistening chandeliers, the silver platters of gourmet food, the golden champagne that the bartenders were pouring into delicate crystal flutes. I was so focused on the sights that it took me a few moments to realize that the stone walls of the ballroom were whispering. But not with pride at how the room had been transformed.
No, the stones muttered with malice and ill intent.
I frowned, reaching out with my magic, wondering why the stones were so upset. Now that Vaughn was dead, I’d thought that the harsh whispers would slowly start to fade away, but instead, it seemed as if they’d only intensified since I’d last been in the mansion a few days ago—
“Sorry about that,” Sebastian said, coming back over to me. “Apparently, there’s a last-minute problem with the new fountain that I ordered for the lawn. I wanted the jets hidden inside it to put on a water show to the orchestra music, but the event planner says that Mr. Stills, the blacksmith installing the fountain, tells her that it’s not possible on such short notice.” He shrugged, as though it were a minor inconvenience. “In the meantime, shall we?”
Sebastian held out his arm to me. I shut the sounds of the muttering stones out of my mind, took it, and let him lead me deeper into the ballroom.
Sebastian’s guests started arriving shortly after that. I stood by his side inside the ballroom doors. He shook hands with every single person, thanking them all for coming and offering them all a hearty smile. Sometimes he would engage them in brief conversation. Other times, the guests would wander off in search of food and drink. But more than a few folks lingered around the door, wanting some face time with the man of the hour. In fact, so many people clustered around him that I soon had to stand against the wall so I wouldn’t be swept away from him entirely.
Sebastian didn’t introduce me to anyone, but I didn’t mind. This was his night, and I preferred to stay in the background, anyway. I was thinking about slipping away to get a drink when Mab Monroe walked through the open doors.
The Fire elemental was dressed in a strapless velvet gown in a deep, bloody crimson that somehow set off her creamy skin and coppery hair at the same time. Her makeup was expertly applied, her eyes made even blacker by the heavy liner and shadow that rimmed them. In contrast, her sunburst necklace flashed like a ring of wavy golden fire around her throat, the ruby in the middle sparking like an ember about to ignite.
The crowd around Sebastian quieted and fell away at Mab’s slow approach, and suddenly, I was the only one standing next to him. He reached out and gripped my hand, his palm sweaty against mine. Surprised, I looked at him. He hadn’t had any problems greeting any of the other power players. But then again, this was Mab, queen of them all, the person most likely to burn you to death on the spot for the smallest perceived slight.
Sebastian bowed his head as Mab stopped in front of him. “Ms. Monroe. What an honor to welcome you to my estate tonight.” He held out his hand.
She gave him a slow once-over, then took his hand in hers. “Being the man of the manor seems to suit you, Sebastian,” Mab murmured, her crimson lips curving up into a small smile, as though she’d made some sort of joke.
He nodded at her in return, but Mab didn’t notice. Instead, she looked past him at me. Her black gaze flicked over me, far less interested than she’d been in Sebastian, but she did the polite thing and held out her hand.
I had no choice but to take it.
Tiny, invisible needles started stabbing into my body the second her warm fingers closed over my cool ones. I’d thought that Mab’s Fire magic had felt intense when I’d been spying on her through the windows at Dawson’s mansion, but the sensation was worse now that I was face-to-face with her—so much worse. My skin felt hot enough to spontaneously combust and the bones underneath liquefy just by touching her. No wonder so many people feared her. All it would take would be the merest wave of her hand to reduce all but the strongest elemental to charred ash. More than once, I’d wondered if Mab could be the Fire elemental who’d murdered my family. She certainly had the magic for it, although I couldn’t imagine why she would have targeted any of us.
I had to grind my teeth to keep the pleasant, bland smile fixed on my face as I held her hand, but I managed it. Because if there was one thing that I could not afford to do, it was to draw attention to myself from the likes of Mab Monroe or let her know that I could feel her magic.
Mab quickly dropped my hand and moved farther out into the ballroom, trailed by Elliot Slater, who’d apparently come along as her bodyguard tonight. I looked around, wondering if someone else might be with her, since Fletcher had mentioned that there was another Monroe on the guest list, someone with initials instead of a first name. But I didn’t see anyone following along behind Mab or Slater, so I focused on Sebastian again.
He grinned at me. “Well, I guess that went about as well as could be expected.”
I shrugged. Anything that didn’t involve Mab Monroe killing you outright should be considered a victory.
But the next person through the doors surprised me even more than the Fire elemental did: Harry Coolidge.
Like everyone else, he’d dressed up in a black tuxedo, although he kept fiddling with his bow tie, as if he wasn’t used to wearing one. Probably not, given that horrible rose-patterned shirt that I’d seen him sporting at the construction compound. Still, the cop cut a handsome figure, and he wasn’t alone.
A woman and a young girl stepped into the ballroom behind him. The woman’s strawberry-blond hair was swept up into a bun, and her blue eyes were kind in her round face. She wore a modest blue evening gown that clung to what curves she had, and a simple string of small pearls gleamed around her throat. Matching pearl studs adorned her ears.
But it was the girl who captured my attention and made my heart squeeze painfully in my chest—she looked just like Bria.
Long blond hair, rosy cheeks, big blue eyes. The girl couldn’t be more than fourteen or fifteen, but she was already stunningly pretty, like a perfect porcelain doll come to life. She wore a simple white dress with a blue ribbon cinched around the waist. A matching blue ribbon circled her throat, although she kept rubbing the blue cameo that dangled off the end between her fingers, as though it annoyed her in the same way that Coolidge’s bow tie bothered him.
