Tangled Threads (Elemental Assassin #4) - Page 23/36

Owen leaned against the doorway and took a sip from his mug. The smell of sugary-sweet hot chocolate made my mouth water. "No, but I called Finn, and he told me where you were and what the two of you had been doing. When you called me, you said that you'd jumped into the river and were downstream. I told Finn that, and he was able to guess where you might have washed up. So I got in the car and went looking."

"And Eva was with you too, wasn't she? I remember hearing her voice."

Owen nodded. "She wouldn't let me go without her, and I thought that the two of us searching would be better than just me."

I shook my head. "But even if you had a general idea of where I was, it would still take hours to search the riverbank, especially in the dark. So how did you find me?"

Owen walked into the room and picked up something from the nightstand on the other side of the bed. Sunlight streaming in through the window glinted off the edge of one of my silverstone knives.

"These," he said. "I knew that you had to have at least a couple of them left on you, not to mention the metal melted into your hands. So I just concentrated and focused on finding any silverstone in the area. They led me right to you."

Of course. Owen had what he considered to be a small elemental talent for metal, which was an offshoot of Stone, although I knew that his magic was anything but weak. The bottom line was that Owen could sense, control, and manipulate metal just the way that I could Ice and Stone. Still, it must have taken every bit of magic he had to specifically sense the silverstone in such a big area, especially with all the cans and other metal debris that littered the riverbanks.

"That's why you look so tired, isn't it?" I murmured. "You used up all your magic to find me last night."

Owen shrugged as though it was nothing. But it wasn't nothing to me. Besides Finn and the Deveraux sisters, I couldn't even remember the last time someone had cared enough to come looking for me when I was in trouble. I was so used to being on my own for so long, always being the tough, strong, capable one, that I'd forgotten how nice it felt to have someone else look out for me.

To have someone else care about me.

And just like that, the fragile strings of my feelings for Owen joined together, all the tangled threads wrapping around and weaving their way through my heart. Scary and painful in some ways, but necessary in others too.

Ignoring the needles still tingling in my legs, I managed to walk around the bed. Owen put his mug down and opened his arms. I stepped into his embrace. For a moment, I just laid my head against his chest, breathing in his rich, earthy aroma. Then, when I felt steady enough, I stood up and pressed my lips to Owen's.

Maybe it was my frame of mind or the fact that I'd almost frozen to death last night, but I felt so much in our kiss. Owen's lips against mine, his body flush with my own, his tongue slowly stroking against mine. The familiar passion sparked to life deep inside me. The feel of Owen, the smell, the taste of him, heated me in a way that all the wool socks in the world just couldn't.

But it wasn't just my body he'd affected. As much as I'd tried to fight it, warmth had blossomed in my heart for him too, unfurling one small, fragile petal at a time. And the emotion had only been strengthened by what he'd done for me last night. For coming to my rescue when I needed him the most, for helping me when I couldn't help myself, for saving me when I couldn't save myself.

Some time later the kiss ended. We stood there in the middle of the bedroom, our arms wrapped around each other, breathless. For the first time, I didn't try to ignore what I was feeling or pretend that things were only physical between us. They were much more than that now.

"Well, now," Owen murmured against my lips. "That makes it all worthwhile."

I drew back and arched an eyebrow. "Really? I wouldn't have figured you for a man who could be so easily bought off with a mere kiss. Even if there was a good deal of tongue action involved."

A wicked grin spread across Owen's face, softening the scar on his chin and making his violet eyes sparkle with a sly light. "Well, if you have something else in mind, I'm open to suggestions."

I jerked my thumb over my shoulder. "There is a bed in this room."

"Yes, I had noticed that," Owen said. "I also happened to notice that you have on about a closet's worth of clothes."

"You don't like the marshmallow look?" I quipped. "Or perhaps you're just not up to the challenge of getting through all my many layers of woolen chastity?"

Owen's eyes narrowed, and his lips quirked up into a sly, sexy smirk. "Oh, baby. You have no idea what I'd do to get through those layers and down to the good stuff."

I pressed a soft kiss to the side of his mouth then put my lips up against his ear. "Then why don't you show me?"

Owen's hands slid down my back before coming around to the front of my body. Our eyes met and held as he undid the top button on the topmost flannel shirt I was wearing-

Someone let out a not-so-discreet cough. I looked over Owen's shoulder to see Finnegan Lane standing in the doorway, a cup of chicory coffee in his hand and a knowing grin on his handsome face.

"Well, it looks like someone's feeling better," Finn drawled.

Chapter 20

I sighed and looked back at Owen. "Rain check?"

He leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to my lips. "I'll hold you to that."

And I would have been holding him, if I'd had my way. But Finn was here now, no doubt to check on me, and I knew that the others would be wondering how I was doing as well. The romantic reunion and thank-you-for-saving-my-life sex would have to wait until later. I sighed and stepped out of Owen's embrace.

By this point, most of the pins and needles had vanished from my legs, but I still wasn't rock steady on my feet, which is why I held on to the polished banister as the three of us went downstairs.

Since it was Sunday, Jo-Jo's beauty salon was closed, but that's still where I found the middle-aged dwarf, painting Natasha's fingernails a sweet little-girl pink. Vinnie held his daughter on his lap, his hands around her waist, his head perched on her shoulder, as if he couldn't quite believe she was back here with him instead of dead and buried. Rosco, Jo-Jo's basset hound, was snoozing in his basket in the corner as usual, his fat, stubby legs twitching with some sort of dream.

The three of them looked up at the sight of me standing in the doorway. Vinnie got to his feet and set his daughter back down in the cherry red salon chair. Natasha gave me a tiny smile, then held out her other hand so Jo-Jo could paint the rest of her nails. She seemed to be doing well, all things considered. At least she was safe now and back with her father, where she belonged.

Vinnie came over and stood in front of me. He looked just as tired as I felt, although his seemed to be more of a happy relief than anything else. The Ice elemental hesitated, then held out his hand. I took it, and we shook. His palm felt cool against mine.

"Gin, the Spider, whatever you call yourself, anything you ever need, anything I have, it's yours," Vinnie said in a low voice. "All you have to do is ask."

The bartender didn't owe me a thing for saving his daughter, not one damn thing. Rescuing the little girl from the horrors and death that had awaited her at the train yard had been my pleasure. But even more than that, I thought that Fletcher Lane, my murdered mentor, would have been proud of me for doing it. The old man had had a bit of an altruistic streak, helping people with certain messy problems. Pro fucking bono, as it were. Of course, I hadn't known about Fletcher's side business until after he'd died, but I still thought the old man would have approved of my actions last night.

"Whatever you want," Vinnie said again. "It's yours."

I would have told Vinnie that we were square, but I knew his fatherly pride dictated that he find some way to pay me back. And as much as I was starting to enjoy following in Fletcher's pro bono footsteps, I was never one to turn down a favor.

"I just might hold you to that."

He returned my stare. "I hope you do. I really hope you do."

"Daddy?" Natasha said in a soft voice, interrupting us. "Aren't my nails pretty?"

The little girl held out her hands for us to inspect. Vinnie gave me another smile, then turned, went back to his daughter, and hugged her close once more.

"They're beautiful, honey. Just beautiful," he whispered against her hair.

And they were.

Jo-Jo settled Natasha in the downstairs den with some chocolate chip cookies that I'd baked yesterday at the Pork Pit, a glass of milk, and some old Scooby Doo reruns on one of the cable networks. Vinnie sat on the couch with his daughter, giggling right along with her at the slapstick antics on television.

The rest of us-Jo-Jo, Finn, Owen, and I-retreated to the next room over, the kitchen, which was one of my favorite rooms in the house. A rectangular butcher's block table surrounded by several tall stools took up most of the area, while appliances done in a variety of pastel shades ringed three of the walls. Runelike clouds, Jo-Jo's symbol, could be found everywhere in the room, from the place mats on the table to the dish towels piled next to the sink to the fresco that covered the ceiling.

My eyes went to the cloud-shaped clock on the wall. Just after one in the afternoon, more than twelve hours since I'd taken my swan dive into the Aneirin River. My thoughts turned to all the time I'd lost-and what might have happened while I'd been unconscious.

"What about the Pork Pit?" I asked Jo-Jo.

"Sophia's covering for you," the dwarf replied, bustling around the kitchen, pulling plates, silverware, and more out of the drawers and cabinets.

I nodded. The Goth dwarf knew just as much about running the barbecue restaurant as I did. I only hoped she wouldn't have to work too hard today, prepping all the holiday orders, since I wasn't there to help her.

Jo-Jo reached for an oven mitt and opened the stove door. The mouthwatering smell of fresh-baked lasagna drifted out to me, and I scooted off my stool.

"Here," I said. "Let me help you with that."

Jo-Jo gave me a hard stare with her clear, almost colorless eyes. "You just sit back down right now, darling. I can cook for you today. I was doing it for years before you came along, Gin."

Properly chastised, I sank back onto my stool.

Jo-Jo dished up the lasagna, along with a Caesar salad and some garlic breadsticks. The others had already eaten. Good thing, since I attacked the food with unrestrained gusto, going back for three helpings. Then again, it had been the better part of day since I'd last had a meal.

When I was finished, Jo-Jo cleared everything away. In the den, Natasha had finished her cookies and milk and was now taking a nap. Vinnie snored along with his daughter. Not surprising. He'd been through just as traumatic an ordeal as she had, when he thought he'd lost her.

"So lay it out for me," I said, once everything was squared away. "What happened last night? And what's been going on while I've been out of it?"

Finn took a sip from the mug of chicory coffee that he'd set down on the counter. By my count, that was the third cup he'd had since I'd woken up. "After you ran back into the train yard, I told the kid to stay put and hung around for a few minutes, covering your back. Which was considerably easier to do once you started that fire. It lit up the whole depot like it was the Fourth of July. I popped a couple of the giants and dwarves who were headed your way. I looked for LaFleur and Mab, hoping to take them out too, but I didn't have any angles on them. So I did all the damage that I could, then grabbed the girl and got the hell out of there."

I thought that the goons had been shooting at me last night, but it had really been Finn, picking off a few more of Mab's men, trying to add even more confusion to the scene.

"I got the kid back to my car," Finn continued. "I drove around, trying to figure out where you might be, or how I could help you, but you were already gone, and I had no idea where. At least not until Owen called me. I told him where to start looking for you, while I brought Natasha over here. Jo-Jo patched her up, and Vinnie hasn't let his daughter out of his sight since then."

I looked at my foster brother. "Thank you for that."

Finn shrugged. "You're the one who did all the heavy lifting. I just killed a couple of Mab's men and drove the girl over here."

I nodded.

"As for the aftermath," Finn said. "Well, things have gotten really interesting in the last few hours."

"How so?" Owen asked.

Finn stared at him. "Well, for starters, that little fire that Gin started? It completely gutted the old train depot. Mab won't be building any kind of nightclub there anytime soon."

"It was just a little gasoline," I said. "Surely, it didn't do that much damage."

Finn raised his eyebrows. "A little gasoline mixed with paint and all that other flammable shit that was lying around the depot. You started a four-alarm fire. The whole place went up like kindling, and Mab's men freaked when they couldn't contain it. They had to call the fire department to come out and handle it. Evidently you could see the flames and the smoke a mile away."

I frowned. "Why didn't Mab just take care of it herself? Fire's her element. Surely, she could have put out the flames or at least helped contain them."

Finn shrugged. "Maybe, but apparently she was too busy screaming at Elektra LaFleur for failing to kill you and bring back your head to care that her building was burning to the ground right in front of her. Rumor has it that Mab was a wee bit upset with her hired gun."

Despite the fact that I'd almost been electrocuted and frozen to death last night, I couldn't help but grin. Maybe it was petty of me, but I loved thwarting Mab's best-laid plans.