Black Widow (Page 26)

It was just after three in the afternoon, plenty of time to get me processed and out on bail, but we all knew that wasn’t going to happen. Now that Dobson had his hooks into me, he wasn’t going to let go until one of us was dead.

Silvio’s gray eyes glittered with anger, and he straightened up to his full height, which was still more than twelve inches shorter than Dobson’s massive, seven-foot frame. “What I understand is that if Ms. Blanco gets so much as a hangnail while she is in your custody, then she will sue you, the department, and every other person in this station.”

“So many empty threats,” another voice called out. “It’s a good thing that I happen to be an expert on legal matters like these.”

Jonah McAllister wove his way through the crowd, his shiny black wing tips tap-tap-tapping out on the floor the drumbeat of my approaching doom.

“Oh, look,” I drawled. “Another cockroach out in the middle of broad daylight. Will wonders never cease.”

Jonah’s jaw clenched, but the rest of his too-tight skin didn’t move with the sour expression. “Oh, Gin.” He let out a hearty, merry chuckle. “You don’t know how happy it makes me to finally see you here, where you belong.”

“Well,” I drawled back, “I’m sure that you can give me some tips on how to navigate the big house. Especially when it comes to bending over for everyone. Tell me, how is that pesky court case against you progressing? You know, the one with all those disturbing counts of murder, robbery, and conspiracy? Hmm?”

Jonah’s brown eyes narrowed, and his mouth flattened out as much as it could, but he didn’t respond to my taunt. Didn’t much matter. I knew the real reason he was here. In fact, I’d been waiting for him or even Madeline herself to show up ever since I entered the station. But I supposed that she was still too busy with the library dedication to her dead mama to come and see about me—yet.

Jonah looked over at Dobson. “Rest assured, Captain, that if this woman assaulted you, then you have every right to arrest her. The law will back you up on that, in my expert opinion.”

“The only thing you’re an expert at is being a weasel,” I cut in, ignoring his flimsy justifications. “We all know that Madeline sent you here to be her eyes and ears. Glad to see she’s found some use for you. It won’t last, though. You know that better than anyone. As soon as she’s done with you, Madeline will use her acid magic to dissolve that smooth face of yours into a puddle of melted skin. I bet it happens soon too. Like, say, right after that party she’s planning?”

It was a calculated jab, and I had the satisfaction of seeing Jonah blink in surprise. “How do you know about the coronation—”

He clamped his lips shut, realizing that he’d already said too much. This time, my eyes were the ones that narrowed. Coronation? Perhaps it wasn’t so much a party as it was Madeline asserting herself and taking control of the underworld, just like Mab had done so many years ago.

And I finally realized what Madeline’s crowning achievement was going to be—my murder.

This was it. This was her endgame. This was what all the underworld bosses had been so desperately trying to accomplish these last several months. Madeline had just been smarter, slyer, and more motivated to make it happen than anyone else. She had realized that sending her minions after me head-on like all the other bosses had was a stupid waste of time and resources. So she’d waited, and she’d plotted and planned, and she’d decided to hit me where it would hurt the most—by going after my friends. Roslyn. Owen. Eva. Finn. Jo-Jo. And now Sophia, Bria, and Xavier were caught up in the mess too.

Silvio had once told me that Madeline wanted to burn my world to the ground before she killed me. Well, so far, she was doing a bang-up job of it, and all I saw were flames every which way I turned. Hurt my friends, murder me, and take control of the underworld all at the same time. Even I had to admit that it was a neat, ambitious hat trick, and she was pulling it off beautifully so far.

“Enough talk,” Dobson growled. “She assaulted me, and she’s been arrested. So put that bitch in a cell. Now.”

Silvio, Bria, Xavier, and Sophia protested, shouting in louder and louder voices that I was innocent, that I hadn’t done anything wrong, that this was the worst sort of frame-up. But it was no use. Dobson was in charge, and all the other cops were either too crooked or too afraid of him to do anything but follow his barked orders.

So the fine boys in blue of the Ashland Police Department did what most of them had probably been dreaming about for a long time now—they carted my ass off to jail.

10

More and more cops surrounded me, creating an unbreakable ring, before the two officers still holding on to me shoved me forward.

I looked over my shoulder. Silvio, Bria, Xavier, and Sophia surged forward, but Dobson dropped his hand to his gun, a clear warning that he would start shooting if they tried to interfere or help me in any way. So my friends were forced to pull up short. Even if they’d gotten past Dobson, there was no way they could have fought their way through the rest of the cops flanking me.

“Gin! Gin!” Bria started yelling, standing on her tiptoes to see through the crowd that separated us.

“It’s okay!” I yelled back. “I’ll be all right!”

Her panicked gaze met mine for a split-second before the cops pushed me through an archway set into the back wall, and she disappeared from sight.

*  *  *

The archway opened up into a long hallway, with more wooden benches lining the walls, and rooms and jail cells branching off either side. But instead of stopping, opening one of the cells, and shoving me inside, the two cops tightened their hold on me and marched me to the far end of the hallway and through another archway.

Deeper and deeper we went into the station, twisting and turning through one corridor after another, with more and more members of the po-po coming out from their posts to join my parade. They didn’t want to risk my making a break for it. Hence all the muscle. Couldn’t blame them for that, since that’s exactly what I was thinking about. Slamming my fist into the face of one of my handlers, grabbing somebody’s gun, and shooting, fighting, and magicking my way out of here.

But it wouldn’t work. There were too many cops with too many guns and far too many itchy trigger fingers. No, right now, I needed to bide my time and see exactly what sort of game this was. Because I had a sneaking suspicion that Madeline wasn’t through playing with me yet. Otherwise, Dobson would have shot me in the middle of the station right after I’d tripped him, not ordered his men to cart me off to places unknown. So I would be patient and endure whatever torture was coming until I could figure out a way to turn the tables on Dobson and the rest of the cops.