Widow's Web

33

I crouched there and watched Salina bleed out. Finn and Kincaid let go of Owen, who rushed over to the dying elemental. He hunkered down on the other side of her, staring at her open, sightless eyes and the deep, ugly gash I’d sliced in her slender throat.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “But it had to be done. I think you know that, deep down inside.”

Owen looked at me, old memories and grief and pain swirling in his eyes—so much pain. Over Salina, over what she’d done to the people he’d cared about—and what I’d just done to her, the woman he’d once loved.

Owen didn’t say a word as he watched Salina die. But when her blood slowed and finally stopped, he got to his feet, turned, and walked away from me—and he didn’t look back.

All I could do was just watch him go, my heart shattering into smaller and smaller pieces with every step he took.

I stayed in that one spot, feeling as cold inside as the landscape was around me. A minute passed, maybe two, and the world kept on turning just like it always did.

I sighed, and got to my feet. Then I fished my knives from where they had been buried in the Ice, grabbed the staff as well, and sat down on the edge of the fountain, right next to the almost decapitated mermaid with her missing tail. The figure seemed to fix her eyes on me, accusing me of murdering the woman whose rune she’d represented.

“What are you staring at?” I muttered.

The mermaid kept grinning at me with her crazy smile. There was nothing else she could do. Just like Salina. Just like me too. I grimaced and turned away.

Bria and Xavier must have called for reinforcements, because more and more cops started showing up on the scene. Portable lights were rigged up so the po-po could see what they were doing. Crime scene tape was strung up here and there. Evidence was gathered. At least, what could be pried out of the elemental Ice that still covered most of the lawn.

I sat there on the rim of the fountain in the middle of it all. A few of the cops gave me sideways glances, but no one dared approach me—except Finn, who once again skated over to me.

“I’m sure you’ve realized by now that it won’t be too much longer before the media arrive,” he said. “So I suggest we make our exit now—unless you want your face all over the morning news.”

I nodded.

“Good,” he said. “I made the same suggestion to Owen and Eva. They’re already waiting for us in the Escalade. Kincaid is taking his own wheels home.”

I blinked. “How the hell did you manage that? Seeing as how you were holding a gun on Owen not twenty minutes ago?”

Finn flashed me a grin. “I pointed out that Owen needs to get Jo-Jo to look at those bumps on his head and his cracked ribs. I also suggested that, unless he wanted Eva to be on camera, we should skedaddle as quickly as possible. For once, he was sensible about things.”

I shook my head. “You mean you wheedled and probably browbeat him into it until he gave in.”

“Would I do something like that?”

“Absolutely.”

Finn grinned a little wider.

I followed him over to the Escalade, which was a mess. The front had been smushed in like a tin can where he’d rammed the car through the gate and then into the koi fountain, and the windshield had splintered as a result. More scratches and scrapes could be seen on the passenger’s side where the vehicle had slammed up against the side of the fountain. It was like a group of giants had pounded on the car with their fists. Just about everything on it was either smashed, cracked, or broken.

“By the way,” he said, opening the driver’s side door. “You will be paying for every bit of the damage.”

Despite the situation, his words brought a ghost of a smile to my face. It was somehow comforting to know that Finnegan Lane was still looking out for number one—himself.

I slid into the front passenger’s seat, Owen and Eva already in the back. Eva nodded, but Owen just stared at me, a blank look on his face. As though we were strangers.

Nobody spoke on the ride over to Jo-Jo’s. Finn parked in the driveway, and we all got out of the car. Owen headed toward the house without a word, without even looking at me or giving me a hint of a smile, letting me know that everything between us was going to be okay.

“Just give him some time,” Eva whispered. “He’ll come around eventually, Gin. I know he will.”

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak, not trusting myself to give voice to all my fears that by killing Salina, I’d also killed the love between me and Owen.

She squeezed my hand, hurried after him, and slipped inside the house. Finn stepped up on the porch. He started to go inside when he realized that I hadn’t moved.

“Gin?” he asked. “Are you coming?”

I shook my head. “Not right now. Let Jo-Jo see to Owen first. He got the worst of it tonight. Tell her that I’ll be along later.”

Finn nodded and stepped inside, letting the screen door bang shut behind him.

When I was sure that he wasn’t going to double back and check on me, I walked around to the other side of the SUV, putting the vehicle in between me and the house. I kept going until I was at the edge of the yard just before it started sloping down to the street. It was full dark now, and only the fireflies glimmered in the quiet night, weaving in and out through the trees where the crickets and cicadas sang their midnight song, punctuated here and there by the bellow of a bullfrog and the low hoot of an owl.

But I didn’t really hear the noises of the night. Only one thing echoed in my head again and again.

Daddy! No! Daddy! Daddy—

I breathed in, letting the soft, humid scent of the night air roll across my tongue. I scrubbed my hands over my face, as if I could wash away the memories of tonight, especially the image of Owen turning his back on me.

But I couldn’t—and I didn’t know if I ever would.