Black Widow (Page 64)

Everyone turned to look at the person who’d just committed suicide by speaking to the acid elemental in such a mocking, derisive way. Puzzled frowns filled their faces, and whispers sprang up, as people tried to figure out who I was.

I stepped out of the shadows and strode across the dance floor, stopping in the middle of the ballroom, about ten feet away from Madeline and Emery. Still holding on to my champagne flute, I planted a hand on my hip and turned to one side, so that I could stare out at all the people gathered around. No one had recognized me yet, so I decided to end their confusion.

I reached up, plucked the black glasses off my face, and tossed them aside. Then I did the same thing with the red wig, making my dark brown hair spill around my shoulders.

It took the bosses several seconds to recognize me, but when they did, the entire ballroom went absolutely, completely, deathly quiet, even more so than when Madeline had been killing Montoya with her magic. Faces paled, sweat beaded on temples, and people almost swooned. Folks hurried to back away from me, and I gave them all a cold, thin smile before I turned to face Madeline, Emery, and Jonah, who had finally realized who I was—and that I was still alive.

Jonah’s mouth gaped open, and he reached for the handle of the terrace door behind him, as if that was all that was keeping him from toppling over in a dead faint.

Emery jerked up to her full, seven-foot height, her hands curling into fists and her body bristling with a mixture of surprise and anger.

But Madeline had the most interesting reaction. Her face whitened with shock, and she blinked and blinked and blinked, her eyes snapping open and shut faster than a camera lens, as if I were some ghost that she could will away if only she focused hard enough.

Despite all her initial suspicions and speculations that I might have survived the fire, she’d lowered her guard and let herself finally, fully believe in the illusion of my supposed death. She’d been so smug, satisfied, and secure in her triumph—a triumph that I had just ripped away during the most important moment of her life.

My grin widened.

“Why, it’s so very nice to see y’all again,” I said, addressing the crowd. “I thought that my funeral yesterday was festive, but this—this is something else.”

People shifted on their feet, mouths still gaping open, but everyone kept staring at me, wondering how I could possibly be alive and what I was going to do next.

Finally, when everyone had gotten a good, long look at me, I faced Madeline again. Her shock was rapidly fading, and I could almost see the wheels spinning in her mind as she tried to figure out what I had planned.

“Oh, yes,” I said in another loud, sneering drawl, “I say that we all raise a glass and toast to the new queen of Ashland.”

25

I raised my champagne glass high, but no one in the crowd followed suit. I glanced around, then shook my head and clucked my tongue, as if I were saddened by the sudden lack of support for Madeline.

“Actually, Maddie,” I drawled again, “I wouldn’t celebrate your victory just yet. It looks to me like there’s still some question as to who the biggest, baddest bitch in Ashland actually is. After all, you told everyone that you’d orchestrated my murder. But here I am, just like usual, just like always, so I think we can all see that that’s simply not the case. I don’t want to call you a liar but . . .” I gave a delicate shrug of my shoulders.

Madeline’s eyes narrowed to slits. “How the hell did you survive that fire?”

“Frozen peas,” I quipped. “Who knew they were so good for you?”

Her face creased into a frown, and confused whispers trickled through the crowd. No one got the joke but me. Maybe someday I’d explain it to them. Maybe not. A girl should always keep a few secrets to herself.

Madeline kept staring at me, so I decided to answer at least some of her questions.

“I survived because I’m a badass bitch. That’s all you need to know.”

“But—but—but there was a body!” she sputtered, finally losing her composure.

“There was, wasn’t there? And I have you to thank for that, Maddie. Remember your maid? That poor woman you sent into my restaurant to kill me knowing full well that I would take her out instead? The one whose body you sent Dobson into the Pork Pit to find, but that he never did? Well, she was on ice in one of my freezers. She came in handy when you started tossing Molotov cocktails into my restaurant.”

Madeline’s frown deepened. “But the coroner confirmed that it was you. And your friends, your family, your funeral . . .” Her voice trailed off as her mind began to whirl at how thoroughly I’d fooled her and everyone else.

“Did you really think that you were the only one who could plan, set, and execute a trap?” I snorted. “Please. You were so sure that you’d won that you never even thought that I could be playing you, that I could be setting you up the same way that you had me. Sloppy, sloppy, sloppy, Maddie. Your mama would certainly have never made such a mistake. Oh, wait. Actually, Mab did make the same exact mistake back when she tried to kill me and my sister when we were kids. She assumed that we were dead, but we escaped her, and we made her pay for what she’d done to our family. And now I’m here to do the same to you. Like mother, like daughter, after all.”

I cluck-cluck-clucked my tongue, mocking her even more. A few laughs sounded at the edges of the crowd, but they dried up when Madeline turned her gaze in that direction. Two red spots bloomed on her pale cheeks, her body trembled with barely restrained fury, and her hands clenched into fists. A drop of green acid squeezed out from between her tight fingers and fell to the floor, causing the white marble to shriek, wail, and start smoking.

But she quickly regained control of herself. She couldn’t afford not to. Not with this crowd of sharks gathered around her. She might be the strongest among them, but they could still sense weakness, and weakness would get you killed quicker than anything else in Ashland.

So Madeline unclenched her fists and favored me with a dazzling smile. “Well, Gin, it’s all well and good that you survived the fire. Actually, it rather pleases me.”

“Really?”

“Really.” Her smile widened. “Because it will make killing you now all the better.”

She looked past me at the crowd that had now formed a circle around us. “Some of you were questioning my strength. Well, what better way than to kill Blanco right now? Surely, there would be no more unpleasant disputes then. Are we agreed?”