Venom (Page 62)

While the dwarf turned off the french fryer and shut everything else down for the night, I called Finn and told him the situation.

"Fuck," he said.

"Fuck, indeed." Then, I asked Finn the most important question-of Roslyn Phillips’s life. "Where would Elliot Slater take Roslyn for one last hurrah before he kills her?"

"You don’t think she’s dead already?" he asked. "He’s had her at least an hour by now."

I thought of the hot rage that I’d seen flashing in Slater’s hazel eyes last night on the riverboat. Of the embarrassment that Roslyn had caused him with her screamed accusations. Of the way that the giant had started after her, only to be called back by Mab Monroe. Of all the incessant calls that he’d bombarded Roslyn with during the long night.

"No," I replied. "Slater will want to play with her first, punish her for what she did to him. At least for a couple of hours. That’s what he did to all those other women in his file. Which means I still have time to get to Roslyn-if I can find her. So where do you think Slater would go? You’re the one who compiled that file on him, who dug up all of Fletcher’s old information on him. You would know better than me."

Asking for direction, for guidance, for a target to strike out at. It was something that I would have asked of Fletcher Lane, if he’d still been alive. But the old man had taught Finn everything he knew about how to gather information on a member of the opposition, analyze it, and predict how he would react in a certain situation. In some ways, Finn was even better at it than Fletcher had been, because Finn innately understood things like greed and desire and avarice. He saw them every day at the bank where he worked, and again at night, while he hobnobbed with his rich, deadly clients.

Through the cell phone, a slow, slurping sound filled my ear. Finn, drinking yet another cup of coffee and thinking about my question. I could picture him leaning back in his expensive office chair, his green eyes bright with thought, the warm scent of his chicory coffee adding to his caffeine high. I let him think. Roslyn’s life depended on his coming up with the right answer. After about a minute, the slurping stopped, and I knew that Finn had come to a conclusion.

"Elliot Slater has a mansion up in the mountains north of the city," Finn said. "He calls it Valhalla, if you can believe that. It’s large, remote, secluded. Dad used to speculate that Valhalla was where Slater disposed of certain bodies for Mab Monroe. I bet he’s gotten rid of some of his own victims up there as well. The Aneirin River cuts through the area. Lots of gorges, lots of hollows, lots of places to dump a body where it’ll never be found. If Slater wanted to spend one more night with Roslyn before he killed her, that’s where he’d take her. I’d bet my life on it."

"You’re not betting your life," I replied. "Just Roslyn’s."

"I know that, Gin." Finn’s voice was as dark and somber as mine. "Believe me, I know."

We didn’t speak for a moment.

"Everything you need to know about Valhalla is in that file I compiled on Slater. Maps, roads, blueprints of the mansion and outbuildings," Finn said. "Do you have it with you?"

I looked at the papers that I’d spread out on top of the counter. "I’m looking through it right now."

"Where do you want me to meet you? Because I’m coming with you, and that’s not up for discussion." There was no hesitation or give in Finn’s voice. Just the determination to finish this and save Roslyn. No matter what.

I eyed the clock on the wall. Creeping up on six thirty now. Roslyn had been gone an hour. By the time I got to Valhalla, close to another hour would have passed. If I waited for Finn here at the Pork Pit, it would be closer to ninety minutes. I didn’t know how long Slater would keep Roslyn alive, but every minute, every second I waited, was another one that the vamp would be in pure agony-and another one closer to her eventual death.

"All right, but we’re running out of time. I’m leaving right now to drive up there." I looked at the maps of the area. "Looks like there’s some sort of gas station at the bottom of the mountain where the mansion sits. Grab your gear and meet me there as soon as you can."

"You got it," Finn said and hung up.

I gathered up all the papers on Elliot Slater and his mountain hideaway and stuffed them back into Finn’s manila folder. While I’d been talking to Finn, Sophia Deveraux had slipped into the back of the restaurant. The dwarf came out through the swinging doors carrying an anonymous black duffel bag. She handed it to me without a word.

"Thanks, Sophia."

I took the bag from her, listening to the comforting clink-clink-clink of weapons rattling around inside. The bag contained just about everything I needed to do a quick, dirty job-silverstone knives, money, dark clothes, fake IDs, credit cards, tins of Jo-Jo’s healing salve. There was only one more thing that I needed to stop and get on my way to Elliot Slater’s mansion. I unzipped the bag and put the folder of information in on top of my other supplies. Then I hefted the bag over my shoulder and headed for the swinging doors that led to the alley behind the restaurant.

Sophia moved to one side to let me pass. The dwarf reached out and put her pale hand on my arm. For a moment, I thought she meant to stop me from going on what basically amounted to a suicide mission. If anyone could do it, the dwarf could. I wasn’t stupid enough to think that I could take Sophia in anything resembling a fair fight. She’d seen all my tricks before, and she was tough as hell. And now I knew that she had Air elemental magic too-powerful magic that she could use to dissolve me into nothingness.

The dwarf stared at me for several seconds. Her eyes were black and flat as usual, but I caught the flash of some emotion swimming in the dark depths. It might have been approval or even pride, but it was gone too quick for me to pin it down.

"Luck," Sophia rasped in her broken voice. She dropped her arm and gestured for me to go on through the swinging doors. The dwarf wasn’t going to stop me.

I nodded. "Thanks, Sophia. Tonight, I think I’m really going to need it."

Chapter Twenty-Four

Twenty minutes later, my Mercedes Benz skidded to a halt in front of Owen Grayson’s mansion. I climbed out of the car, ran up to the front door, and banged the hammer rune knocker as hard as I could against the thick wood. About thirty seconds passed before I heard the scuffle of footsteps inside. A moment later, Eva Grayson cracked open the door. When she saw that it was me, she swung the door back even more.

"Gin?" Eva asked. "What are you doing here? Do you and Owen have another date or something?"

I didn’t answer, instead shouldering my way past her inside the mansion.