Venom (Page 73)

"Mab wanted to kill the mother, Eira Snow, ever since they were kids. The Monroes were always part of the underworld wheeling and dealing, while the Snows were always real straight arrows. Naturally, the two families got involved in some kind of elemental feud along the way. It stretched back decades from what I understand. Hell, it goes so far back that I don’t even think Mab really knows how it started in the first place. But somebody killed someone over something, and it just kept going from there. You know how elementals are. Most of ’em can’t get along to save their lives, especially the opposing elementals, like Fire and Ice." Disgust filled Slater’s voice. Evidently, he didn’t hold his boss in quite as high regard as he led everyone to believe. "Fucking elementals. Always fighting over something."

Finn nodded his head in agreement.

"Mab and Eira Snow grew up together," Slater continued. "Even as kids, they were enemies. Mab made sure of that. And when they got older, well, they both went after the same man-a Stone elemental. Supposedly, Snow actually loved him, but Mab, well, she just wanted his Stone magic, wanted to pass it on to their kids."

The giant stared across the living room, staring back into the distant past. He hooked his thumbs through the belt loops on his pants and rocked back on his heels. Lost in his memories.

"But why?" Finn asked, breaking into Slater’s reverie. "Maybe the kids would have gotten daddy’s Stone magic. Maybe they wouldn’t. There was no guarantee of that."

Slater chuckled. "I tried telling that to Mab myself, but she wouldn’t listen to me. Magda’s the only one that Mab ever took advice from."

Finn frowned. "Who the hell is Magda?"

The silent same question I was asking myself.

Slater shrugged. "Some crazy old aunt of Mab’s who lived up in one of the hollows. Magda was an Air elemental. Seeing into the future was her thing. Writing down prophecies, casting stones, reading tea leaves, looking at moss on trees, drinking chicken’s blood. Bitch was into some really crazy shit. She told Mab that Snow would have a kid who would be an even stronger elemental than Mab was. Someone with Ice and Stone magic. Someone who would one day kill Mab."

Kill Mab? Well, the mysterious Magda had gotten one thing right. Because that was certainly my plan now.

"After Snow popped out three brats, Mab decided to make her move," Slater finished.

Finn just stood there, digesting the information. On the balcony above, I did the same, trying to swallow the cold, cold bitterness that coated my mouth and heart.

Slater smiled. "So I got some of my boys together, and we went over to the house late one night. My boys and me took care of the servants, while Mab lit up the mother and one of the brats. It was beautiful."

Finn looked at the giant. "But things got out of hand, didn’t they? Otherwise, Bria Coolidge wouldn’t be alive today."

"The middle brat managed to hide Coolidge somewhere. So I found the brat and took her to Mab to get some answers. Mab tortured the brat, but she didn’t squeak," Slater said. "So we left to look for Coolidge, but the little bitch used her Stone magic to weaken the foundation of her own house. Mab and I barely got out before the whole damn thing came crashing down."

"And you thought Bria buried herself in her own tomb," Finn deduced. "Until she came back to town a few weeks ago and Mab realized that she hadn’t died that night all those years ago. I bet Mab f**king freaked when her sources in the police department told her about Bria, that the detective was digging up dirt on her family’s murder. I bet Mab was absolutely livid when she realized who Bria really was. That’s how Mab even knew it was her in the first place, right?"

"More or less." Slater shrugged again. "But it’s all just a small setback, one I’m going to rectify after I’m finished having my fun with you-and sweet Roslyn."

Instead of getting angry again, Finn just stared at the giant, his green eyes gleaming with secrets that Slater couldn’t even begin to guess. Finn’s lips twitched, but not with pain. A small chortle sounded, then another, then another, until he was guffawing with laughter. Tears of hysterical amusement cascaded down his bruised cheeks, mixing with his scarlet blood.

Slater looked at Finn, then at his two flunkies. The other giants shrugged their shoulders. They didn’t know why he was laughing either.

"What’s so funny?" Slater rumbled, turning back to face Finn. "Most men don’t laugh when they’re about to die."

My foster brother ignored the giant and kept right on laughing. The loud, merry, confident sound grated on Slater’s nerves, because he moved closer, grabbed Finn’s chin with his massive hand, and shoved his mouth closed, cutting off his gleeful chuckles. It took some effort, but Finn’s chest finally quit shaking with chuckles. Slater stepped back and eyed the other man, still wondering at the cheerful outburst.

"You know what, Elliot?" Finn asked. "You’re a pretty smart guy yourself, to help your boss cover up such brutal murders for so long. But in the middle of telling your little bedtime story, you forgot one small thing."

"And what the f**k would that be?" Slater growled.

"You know that night that I stopped you from killing Bria Coolidge?"

The giant nodded.

Finn just smiled. "You forgot that I had a partner then-and still do now."

Chapter Twenty-Eight

That was my signal to move. So I pulled myself up onto the banister that overlooked the living room and leaped. I hung in midair for a moment before gravity took over. On my way down, I grabbed the edge of the iron chandelier. My momentum propelled me forward, like I was on a old-fashioned rope swing, and I pumped my legs to get the arc I wanted. Elliot Slater’s head snapped up at the noise, but the two giants were too focused on their boss to do the same. Slater shouted a warning. Too f**king late.

I dropped right on top of the two giants. One of them stumbled to the left and slammed into a table. My silverstone knife ripped into the other one’s back and sliced all the way down, like I was a sailor and his flesh was some sort of heavy canvas I was cutting into to slow my own fall.

He screamed with pain and bucked like a bronco, but I jumped up, grabbed his hair, and climbed on his back. The man tried to throw me off, but I had a death grip on his greasy locks. The giant paused a second to scream and gather his strength, and that’s when I reached around and slit his throat. His scream turned into a gurgle, and I felt the fight and power drain out of his body, along with his blood. The man pitched forward, and I got off the rodeo ride.

One of my knives was still stuck in the giant’s back, and the other had fallen from my grasp when he’d lurched forward. So I grabbed the two knives hidden in my boots and turned to face the other man. He’d picked himself up and was getting back into the thick of the fight. The giant roared with rage, charged, and swung at me. Sloppy, sloppy, sloppy. I slithered forward and popped up inside his nonexistent defense. One knife went into his heart. The other severed his jugular. I shoved him away and whirled, ready for Slater’s onslaught.