Venom (Page 44)

Jonah McAllister stepped aside, and Elliot Slater pushed me down the walkway toward the front of the riverboat. I didn’t make a sound. Didn’t scream, protest, or try to jerk my upper arm out of the giant’s grip. Mainly because I didn’t want Slater to move his hand any lower and find the silverstone knife nestled against my forearm. Besides, screaming would be useless. No one would come to my aid. Everyone knew Elliot Slater worked for Mab Monroe. And with the Fire elemental in attendance here tonight, no one would dare question why the giant was strong-arming me-or what he might do to me once he got me off the boat.

"It’s a shame you’re just not willing to learn, Ms. Blanco," Jonah McAllister said in a conversational tone. The lawyer walked behind me. "That you just can’t accept the way things work in Ashland."

"Learn? Accept?" I looked over my shoulder and glared at him. "What you really mean is you don’t understand why I’m not cowed by you and yours, why I don’t just roll over and let you do whatever you want to me."

McAllister shrugged. "Call it what you like. But every time you forget, you’re going to get another reminder, like the one at the community college. Until you either remember to pay us the respect we’re due, or until you’re dead. Either option is perfectly acceptable to me."

We rounded the corner and stepped back out onto the main deck. Elliot Slater was a hard man to miss, and more than a few people looked in our direction. But once they realized the giant had his hand clamped on my arm like a vise, folks quickly went back to their drinking and gambling.

Everyone except Roslyn Phillips. Even though she was fifty feet away from me, I could see the vampire’s face tighten. Roslyn thought I’d been caught trying to assassinate Slater. She didn’t realize that I’d just had the bad luck to run into Jonah McAllister, who still suspected I had something to do with his son, Jake’s, death.

Luck. Capricious bitch. She’d gotten me into trouble more times than I cared to think about.

Finn also spotted Slater holding on to me. Our eyes met for a second before I cast my gaze down and shook my head a tiny bit. No, I was telling him. Don’t interfere. Not yet. Finn’s hand tightened around the handle of the slot machine he’d been pulling down, but he didn’t move. I knew he’d be there when I needed him, though.

Slater bent down to murmur in my ear. "Do yourself a favor and don’t make a scene, Blanco. Or I’ll hit you even harder when we get off the boat. Just because." His breath reeked of onions, which made his threat that much fouler, so to speak.

Oh, yeah. I was going to enjoy stabbing the giant to death. Just because.

But I played the part of the cowed victim and let the giant push me toward the gangplank on the opposite side of the deck. Slater crooked his finger, and his two giant minions left Roslyn’s side to come over and flank me. Of course. Slater would need someone to hold me up while he beat me again. Because doing it himself would be such a bother.

Jonah McAllister nodded his head in satisfaction, then strolled to the center of the deck, where Mab Monroe was still holding court. Elliot Slater strong-arming me toward the exit had also caught the Fire elemental’s interest, and her black eyes tracked me across the deck. McAllister reached her side and whispered something in Mab’s ear. After a moment, the Fire elemental nodded her approval, rubber-stamping my impending beating and possible death. Good to know where I stood, at least.

But Mab wasn’t the only one watching us. Phillip Kincaid was interested in the drama as well. The casino owner leaned against one of the blackjack tables, staring at me with obvious curiosity, trying to figure out who I was and why Elliot Slater was dragging me off the riverboat. He looked across the deck at Mab, who gave him a flat stare, a clear warning not to interfere with the giant. After a moment, Kincaid shrugged and turned back to the table. He didn’t know me so he didn’t care what Mab’s men did to me. This might be Kincaid’s casino, but even here, he knew he was no match for the Fire elemental.

But there was one more person on the deck who wasn’t busy pretending I was invisible-Owen Grayson. He must have seen Elliot Slater out of the corner of his eye, because he glanced at the giant. Then his head snapped back again when he realized that the giant had a death grip on me. Owen’s violet eyes stayed on me as he watched Slater walk me past the gaming tables and slot machines. I didn’t look in Owen’s direction or try to signal him in any way. This was my problem, my mess, my punishment for antagonizing Jonah McAllister instead of keeping my mouth shut.

But to my surprise, instead of going back to his tonic water, Owen Grayson got to his feet, threw a couple of chips on the bar to cover his tab, and headed toward us.

Well, this was going to be interesting.

Owen met us in the middle of the deck in an open space behind one of the blackjack tables. Since Owen stood in the center of the aisle, Elliot Slater had to stop or run over the businessman. Slater decided to stop. The other man was important and rich enough for that small courtesy.

"Is there a problem?" Owen asked. His voice was low and deep, with a dangerous, aggressive edge, and his eyes flashed like dark amethysts in his face.

Elliot tightened his grip on my arm, his fingers digging into my flesh in a clear warning for me to keep my mouth shut. "No problem, Mr. Grayson. Just taking out a bit of trash that got onto the riverboat by mistake."

Trash wasn’t the worst thing I’d ever been called. Hardly enough to make me roll my eyes. But the word made Owen’s gaze simmer with violet fire. For a moment, I felt a blast of cold emanate from his body. A manifestation of his elemental talent for metal-and his anger. Owen’s face remained smooth, except for the scar under his chin. It whitened under the strain of his clenched jaw.

"Ms. Blanco is my date for the evening," Owen replied in a mild tone. "She’s hardly trash. I suggest you let go of her arm. Most ladies don’t like to be manhandled."

"Only in bed," I quipped. "And even then, I still like to be on top."

His mouth quirked at my flip remark, and our eyes met and held. Gray on violet. Desire simmered in Owen’s eyes underneath his anger, and I knew he could see the emotion reflected in my gaze. But there was something else, another emotion in his cold face that surprised me-concern. For me.

My chest tightened, and I couldn’t breathe. It had been so long since someone besides Finn, Fletcher, or the Deveraux sisters had cared about what happened to me that it took my breath away for a moment. Even if Owen Grayson was probably just playing the part of the gentleman in order to get laid tonight. Right now, it was working for him.

Owen turned his attention to Slater and smiled at the giant, letting a bit of ugly violence show through his hot gaze. The giant frowned. It was one thing to take me onshore for another beat-down when it seemed like I was here by myself or had somehow snuck in. It was quite another to accost the proclaimed date of one of Ashland’s wealthiest businessmen. Enough even to make Elliot Slater think twice.