Thread of Death (Page 4)

Several dozen wavy golden rays glimmered on the side of the ebony casket, clustered around a large red gem. A real ruby, and not just expensive glass. My Stone magic let me hear the gemstone’s proud whispers of its own elegance. The sound mixed in with the similar, boastful murmurs of the jewels the other mourners wore. I could just make out a matching gem sticking up from the top of the coffin and another one down from the bottom, and I was willing to bet there was a rune on the far side, too, although I couldn’t see it from where I was standing.

The sight of the sunburst, along with Mab’s smiling portrait, made my hands start to itch and burn. Mab had melted my own silverstone rune necklace into my hands when I was a kid, branding my palms with a small circle surrounded by eight thin rays. A spider rune, the symbol for patience.

"Are you okay?" Owen whispered, noticing me rubbing first one hand, then the other.

"Yeah. I’m fine," I said in a low voice. "I should have realized they’d have a picture of her set up. It’s just a little . . . eerie, seeing her face again. And all those runes on her coffin aren’t helping."

He reached over and squeezed my hand, the warmth of his touch banishing the phantom pains in my palms. I flashed him a grateful smile and threaded my fingers through his.

A minister holding a Bible separated himself from the chattering crowd and walked over to a wooden podium that had been set up on one side of the coffin. He opened his Bible, took out some white index cards, and cleared his throat a few times, telling everyone that it was time to begin the service.

The crowd shuffled a little closer together, closing ranks so that everyone could see and hear the minister. My family and I stood to the left of the minister and coffin, at the nine o’clock position in the group of mourners who’d gathered here today.

Slowly, the crowd quieted down and gave the minister their full attention. Everyone might be relieved that Mab was gone, but this was still a funeral, an occasion deserving of respect. All the underworld figures might be here mixing with their mortal enemies, plotting against them with a passion, and gleeful Mab was dead, but we’d all behave ourselves at her funeral. More or less. We Southerners were a little funny that way.

As the minister began the service, I looked around, my eyes going from one face to another. I knew more than a few folks. Some I’d done jobs for as the Spider, taking out their enemies, their business partners, or whomever else they’d wanted out of their lives. Others were the friends and family of those I’d killed. And then there were people like Phillip Kincaid who I knew only by reputation. Altogether, more than five hundred people had shown up at the funeral, not counting the news crews who were stationed at the entrance to the cemetery. The media hadn’t been allowed inside to cover the service, no doubt because of all the crime bosses here today. Ashland might be a corrupt city, but folks still wanted to keep up the appearance of being legitimate, respectable businessmen and -women.

I kept looking at all the faces around me, and more than a few folks stared back at me, curiosity and wariness gleaming in their eyes, their lips pulled back into toothy, predatory smiles. Finn had told me there were rumors going around the underworld about me and how I was really the Spider, the assassin who’d killed Mab. It looked like the rumors were a little more widespread than Finn had led me to believe, given all the calculating glances coming my way. But there was nothing I could do about that right now, so I kept scanning the crowd.

Eventually, I noticed a woman standing alone just beyond the semicircle of supposed mourners. She wore a simple but elegant black dress and looked to be about my age, although I couldn’t really tell, because of the black pillbox hat and lacy veil that covered her face. All I could really see of her features were her crimson lips, but she wasn’t smiling like everyone else here was. If anything, she seemed . . . thoughtful.

I frowned, wondering who the mystery woman might be. Another business associate of Mab’s? Someone the Fire elemental had hurt? Or someone else entirely? I had no way of knowing, but her calm, relaxed stance and distance from everyone else roused my interest and suspicion. I doubted she could even see the coffin from where she stood, but she seemed content to watch from her position. I made a note to ask Finn if he knew who she was after the service was over. My curiosity almost always got the best of me like that.

Finally, my gaze met Jonah McAllister’s. The lawyer glared at me, even though the minister was standing in front of him, talking about Mab and what an impact she’d had on Ashland. Well, that was one way of putting it.

The lawyer’s brown eyes were as cold as mine were, and his wrinkle-free face tightened that much more as he glared at me. McAllister hated me for killing his son, Jake, who’d been stupid enough to try to rob the Pork Pit and then had threatened to rape and murder me. As far as I was concerned, Jake had gotten exactly what he deserved – better than what he deserved, actually, since his death had been relatively quick. He wouldn’t have shown me the same courtesy if he’d had me at his mercy. No, I didn’t have any regrets about stabbing Jake to death, despite the fact that Jonah had tried to have me killed more than once for that and all the other insults I’d hurled his way over the past several months.

I wondered what Jonah was thinking about as he sat at his boss’s funeral . . . what he was feeling right now. I imagined it couldn’t be anything good, especially not about me. . . .

Chapter Three

Jonah McAllister

I couldn’t believe the bitch was still alive – and that she’d dared to show her face here today. Some people just had no class, no manners, and no respect, and Gin Blanco was one of them.

Gin Blanco. The assassin the Spider. It was still difficult for me to reconcile they were one and the same. The bitch had seemed so small and dull and ordinary the first time I met her in that run-down rattrap of a barbecue restaurant she ran downtown. Just another business owner I had to pay off because of Jake’s stupidity in trying to rob her. I should have known there was more to her than met the eye when she refused my generous offer to compensate her if she dropped the charges against my son – and then smashed a plate of food into Jake’s face when he’d charged at her. It wasn’t anything I hadn’t done myself – more than once, truth be told – but the action still surprised me. It seemed so violent, so vicious, so at odds with the calm mask she’d worn up until that point.

Oh, yes. I should have known there were hidden depths to Ms. Blanco from that very first day.

I warned Blanco what would happen if she decided to do the foolish thing and stand up against me, but she seemed almost delighted by the prospect of taking me on. Another clue I should have seen back then. Still, I wasn’t too worried about her – until Jake’s body was discovered in a bathtub at Mab’s mansion.