Thread of Death (Page 11)

I shifted back and forth on my feet, not ready to leave just yet. There was one more thing I had to do – something I didn’t want an audience for.

Owen picked up on my mood. "I’ll be by the car if you need me," he said in a soft voice. "Take as long as you need."

I nodded, grateful that I didn’t have to put my feelings into words for him. Owen always gave me the space I needed, which was one of the many things I loved about him. He knew I needed to say my final good-bye to Mab, and he was going to give me the time to do it on my own terms.

Owen headed across the grass, going back to his car, vanishing from sight, and leaving me alone in the cemetery. Even the dwarves with the shovels had gotten bored and disappeared, probably digging another grave while they waited for the cops to finish up here at Mab’s.

When I was sure I was alone, I drew in a breath and walked over to her casket.

The coffin had been spared from the hail of gunfire that had erupted earlier, and its ebony surface was so smooth and shiny that I could see my reflection in the expensive, polished wood – and in the large golden rays that made up the sunburst runes on the sides.

Up close, the rune was bigger than I’d realized, even larger than the necklace Mab had always worn. I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised that the Fire elemental’s rune was featured so prominently on her coffin. More than a few of the grave markers sported the symbols of the elementals, vampires, and others who were buried beneath them. I looked at the sunburst runes a moment longer before wandering over and examining the flowers that had been set up at the foot of the casket, right next to Mab’s portrait.

There were only two sprays of flowers: a very big and showy arrangement of white roses that bore Jonah McAllister’s name, and another, smaller one that featured crimson-colored orchids. A card said the orchids had come from some floral shop over in Cypress Mountain, but I didn’t see the name of the person who had sent them. For a moment I thought about the mysterious woman in black who I’d seen standing outside the ring of mourners. Maybe they were from her, whoever she was. I’d told Finn about the mystery woman, and he’d promised to look into it for me; but with everything that had happened here today, I wasn’t holding my breath that he’d find out anything about her.

Once I’d examined the flowers, there was nothing left to do but what I’d come here for: to say my final farewell to Mab.

I approached the coffin once more, staring down at its smooth surface, peering at my slightly warped reflection in the wood.

"Well," I said. "Now that I’m here, I have to admit that I don’t quite know what to say. All along, I thought it would be you standing here in the end instead of me. I know you thought that too: that you would be the one who finally came out on top in our battle. You probably would have if Fletcher hadn’t trained me, if he hadn’t spent all those years preparing me to face you."

Nothing happened. The wind didn’t pick up, the flowers didn’t flutter, the tree branches didn’t ominously creak overhead, thunder didn’t rumble, jagged streaks of lightning didn’t zigzag across the sky. I hadn’t really expected any of those things to occur, but that still didn’t keep me from pausing a moment to wonder if they might. The lightning certainly wouldn’t have been out of the realm of possibility, given my terrible luck and all the bad things I’d done over the years.

I knew it was probably foolish of me, talking to the closed coffin of my mortal enemy, and if anyone else had heard me, they would have thought that Mab had fried my brain along with the rest of me. But I did it anyway, just like I always talked to Fletcher whenever I went to put fresh flowers on his grave. I needed to say the words, if only for myself.

"I know this is when I’m supposed to say that part of me is sorry that you’re gone," I said. "But I’m not sorry – not one damn bit. And you wouldn’t be, either, if it was you standing here instead of me. Hell, you probably would have used your magic to burn my coffin to ashes during the funeral and roasted some marshmallows over the flames while you were at it. At least I’m sparing you that final indignity."

I drew in a breath. "But it’s not really about you and me. Not anymore. I’m glad you’re dead because that means Bria and the rest of my friends and family are finally safe from you. At least, as safe as they can be in Ashland. Still, I have to admit that I’ve felt a little bit at loose ends lately. I guess I’m wondering what happens now that you’re gone, just like everyone else in Ashland. They’re all scrambling, you know, and killing each other off as fast as they can. I’m mildly surprised they all played nice long enough to get through your funeral. I think you would at least enjoy that, knowing what a tizzy your death has left everyone else in."

I didn’t know what else to say, and now came the hardest part: trying to decide whether or not I wanted to open the coffin.

It had been closed throughout the service, and no one had approached it, much less opened it, after the sniper attack. Maybe I was being morbid again, but I was curious about what was inside – if anything. I knew Mab had been just as badly burned by our magic as I’d been, and I wondered if the funeral home had just gone ahead and incinerated the rest of her or if someone had carefully arranged what was left of her skin and bones on top of the silk lining.

The curiosity was killing me.

I reached for the coffin lid, determined to open it and see for myself, but I stopped the second my fingers touched the smooth wood. After a moment I dropped my hand to my side. No, I didn’t want to see what was inside. I didn’t need to. I’d never forget the memory of shoving my silverstone knife into Mab’s heart, hearing her scream of rage and pain, and realizing that I’d finally killed her. The image had been burned into my brain, just like her magic had melted my bones. Even though the Fire elemental had been my most bitter enemy, I wasn’t going to insult her by peering at her remains like a vulture looking for one last bit of flesh to peck at.

Even Mab deserved to rest in peace now, here, at the end.

So, instead of opening the coffin, I bowed my head in respect, my hands clasped together in front of me, the two spider rune scars on my palms pressing together, just like they had the night the Fire elemental had put the marks there. Despite everything she’d done to me, I had to admit that Mab had been a worthy opponent, a nemesis who had kept me on my toes and made me work and work just to stay alive. Part of me knew I wouldn’t be me without her. Maybe it was wrong, but being the Spider was who and what I was. In a way, I had Mab to thank for that and everything I had today.

I was still standing there, head bowed, when something whispered off to my right, like clothes rubbing together, and I noticed someone creeping up behind me in the reflection in the wooden coffin.