Jennifer Estep - Spider's Bite

“Nobody did notice the embezzling or anything else, until Gordon started digging around,” Carlyle replied.

My eyes narrowed. So that’s what this was all about. The Air elemental had been stealing money from Halo Industries to try to wrest control of the city away from Mab Monroe. To build a crew and fund a war against the Fire elemental. Gordon Giles had known about her embezzling and was going to blow the whistle on her to the cops. That’s why he’d had to die. The Air elemental couldn’t afford to let Mab get wind of her plans, not before she was ready to make her move. But since killing Giles outright herself would have drawn Mab’s unwanted attention to Halo Industries, the Air elemental had hired me to take the fall — to come in and be Giles’s conveniently dead killer.

But Stephenson was right. Bitch really was crazy if she thought she could take control of the city away from Mab Monroe. Because before the Air elemental could even get to Mab, she’d have to take out her flunkies first. The lawyer, Jonah McAllister, might not present much of a problem, although he had his own guards. But Mab’s giant enforcer, Elliot Slater, he’d be a hard weed to mow down. And then there was Mab herself, the toughest task of all. David had had a better chance against Goliath than the Air elemental did of knocking off Mab Monroe.

But the revelation also told me something else — the Air elemental almost certainly had to be Haley or Alexis James. Nobody else was high enough up in the company to manage something like this. Carlyle was going to tell me later exactly which one of the sisters it was — no matter how bloody I had to get in the process.

Instead of arguing further with the giant, Carlyle sat back in his seat. He ran his finger around the lip of his glass, then gave Stephenson a sly look. Considering something.

“Perhaps you and I could come to an agreement,” Carlyle said in a smooth tone. “Since you seem to be rather tired of working for the elemental.”

Stephenson eyed him. “What kind of agreement?”

“We both agree it’s only a matter of time before the elemental implodes,” Carlyle said. “Who’s to say after that happens you and I can’t pick up the pieces?”

“What exactly are you proposing?”

Carlyle shrugged. “Nothing right now. Except you watch out for me, and I’ll watch out for you until things settle down. After that, well, we’ll just see what happens.”

“What about the elemental?” Fear crept back into the giant’s voice. “If she even thinks we’re plotting—”

“Don’t worry about the elemental.” A smirk filled Carlyle’s blocky face. “I’ve got a little insurance policy in place to keep her in line.”

Insurance policy? There was only one thing Carlyle could have that the elemental wanted — Gordon Giles’s secret flash drive with all of her dirty deeds on it. The vampire was going to be more useful than I’d anticipated.

Stephenson didn’t respond to the other man’s offer. But I could see the desperate hope in his eyes. The police captain would do anything to get out from under the elemental’s thumb, even fall into bed with a hood like Carlyle. He didn’t realize the vampire would treat him exactly the same, in the end.

“Just think about it,” Carlyle said. “But not too long.”

He finished his drink and jerked his head toward the door. “Now leave. I’ve got other things to do tonight before I see the elemental again.”

Stephenson didn’t need to be told twice. The giant mopped a final bit of sweat from his forehead, got to his feet, and walked out the door. Carlyle waited a few moments before putting the bottle of booze back in the bar and slapping his fedora on top of his head. He was leaving too.

Beside me, Donovan Caine pulled away from the peephole. I did the same and pulled the knob, covering the slit.

“That bastard,” Caine muttered in a low voice. “That fucking bastard set me up.”

The detective started to charge past me down the hallway, but I grabbed his arm.

“No,” I said. “We’re not here for your boss. We see what Carlyle has to say first, then you can go after Stephenson. That was our agreement, remember?”

Anger simmered in Caine’s eyes, and the muscles in his arm bunched under my hand.

“You get Stephenson,” I repeated. “You can deal with him any way you like — but not tonight. Carlyle’s leaving. We need to grab him. I’m tired of running around and hiding in the shadows, detective. I want a fucking name. And Carlyle can give it to me. Now, are you coming with me? Or do I knock you out and leave you back here for Roslyn’s giant bouncer to find?”

After a moment, Caine let out a tense breath. “All right. We’ll do it your way.”

I nodded. “Good. Let’s go get the bastard before he leaves.”

When we stepped back out on the main floor, I pulled out my cell phone and dialed Finn.

“Yeah?” he said over the din.

“Carlyle’s leaving,” I said.

“I know,” Finn replied. “Stephenson’s already out the front door. Chuckie C.’s settling up his tab for the evening with the giant next to the VIP entrance. Seems to be arguing about the price of something. While you two were eavesdropping, I took the liberty of wandering out to the parking lot to see if I could spot the vamp’s car. Carlyle’s driving a sweet little red BMW that’s parked on the west side of the building. Three rows up from our car.”

A hard smile curved my lips. “Perfect. Keep him in sight. The detective and I are heading for the Beamer.”

We both hung up. I wove my way through the crowd, sliding from opening to opening. Donovan Caine was right on my heels. It took almost a minute for us to step outside Northern Aggression. The night air was a cool, welcome kiss on my face after the crush of bodies inside the nightclub.

“This way,” I said.

The detective fell in step beside me. He’d dampened down his earlier anger at Stephenson, although his mouth was set into a hard, determined line. He reached behind him, drew his gun from the small of his back, and held the weapon down by his side. “How do you want to do this?”

“No need for a gun yet, detective. You and Finn hang back,” I replied. “I’ll approach Carlyle and subdue him. That way, he only sees me if something untoward should happen.”

Donovan nodded. “All right.”

The BMW was parked right where Finn said it would be. Hard to miss, really, since the vanity plate on the front read CHUCKEC. Donovan ducked down in the shadows behind a car a few feet over. I slid behind an SUV on the other side of the BMW and peered through the driver’s side window.

Getting close to midnight now, and the air had taken on the sharp chill of fall. The music of the club pulsated outside, and I could hear the vibrations whispering in the concrete under my boots. Classic murmurs of sex, drugs, and rock and roll. A few smokers stood in a cluster two hundred feet away, puffing on who knew what. But other than that, the parking lot was deserted. Everybody was still inside, getting their groove on for the evening.

I palmed one of my knives, hilt out, and started counting off seconds in my head. Ten … twenty … forty-five …

Two minutes later, Charles Carlyle strolled around the side of the building. He walked with quick, purposeful steps. The confident stride of a man who thinks he’s got everything figured out. That the world was his cherry to pop. Still, he cast a cursory look around, the way anyone would when walking through a dark area at night.

But he didn’t see me. They never did, until it was too late. I smiled. Poor Chuck. I almost felt sorry for him. Until I thought about Fletcher.

I looked, but I didn’t see Finn trailing the vampire. Finn could blend in with the shadows too, when he put his mind to it.