Jennifer Estep - Widow's Web

Kincaid blinked in surprise. Apparently, he hadn’t thought I’d be able to find all the skeletons in his closet as easily as he had the ones in mine, but I had, thanks to Finn. Sometimes I thought my foster brother must be part bloodhound, the way he could track down leads and run them to ground with only a whiff of information to go on.

“You got those burns when you were thirteen, right?” I said. “And a whole lot of other injuries. Cuts, bruises, a few broken bones. At that foster home where the man of the house drank like a fish and liked to smack around his wife and the kids in his care when he’d had a few too many. Funny thing about that guy. Shortly after child services noted the burns on your arms, a robber broke into the house and almost beat that man to death with a metal pipe. That’s what the wife claimed in the police report, anyway. But you know what I think, Philly? That thirteen wasn’t an important year for just me.”

His blue eyes glittered with a cold light, but he didn’t respond.

“Don’t get me wrong,” I said. “I think the bastard got exactly what he deserved. Actually, I’d say he got off easy. I would have stabbed him to death.”

Kincaid snorted, but he didn’t say anything, so I continued.

“Maybe you were scared the cops would put you in juvie for what you did to that guy, maybe you were scared of him beating on you again when he got out of the hospital, or maybe you just decided you’d rather fend for yourself. Either way, there’s no record of you in any foster home after that. In fact, you dropped off the map entirely for a few years there, which leads me to believe you were living on the Southtown streets and scrounging for whatever food, clothes, and money you could find, cheat, beg, borrow, or steal. Eventually, you joined some of the lower-level crews in Ashland, working your way up through the ranks until you decided to branch out on your own. Somewhere along the way, you dreamed up the idea for the Delta Queen and made it a reality. Even more impressive is the fact that you’ve managed to hang on to it all these years despite Mab and other folks trying to wrestle it away from you. So bravo to you.”

I stopped twirling my knife long enough to walk over and pick up the gin and tonic from the bar. I toasted him with the drink, then used the glass to gesture at all the action figures and movie posters. “Now, seeing your office, I assume you growing up as poor and shitty as you did is the reason for all of this. The posters, the movies, the popcorn machine. That you’re indulging yourself now with all the things you didn’t have as a kid. I also assume that’s the reason you gulped down your food at the Pork Pit the other day like you were afraid I was going to take it away from you. Because you have had your food taken away in the past. Because you’ve gone to sleep hungry more times than you’d care to remember.”

Kincaid looked around the office as if he was seeing all the things inside it for the very first time—and, more important, what they revealed about him. His mouth twisted with disgust, but I couldn’t tell if it was with himself for being so easy to read or with me for dredging up so many bad memories. Then his gaze dropped to the drink still in his hand, and he tossed it back as easily as he had the whiskey before. He put the empty glass down on the bar.

“Well, it seems like you’ve got me all figured out, Gin. Want to tell me what my favorite color is? Although, for the record, I wanted a kitten, not a puppy, when I was a kid.”

“Not quite,” I said. “As interesting as our life stories are, they don’t explain what happened to Antonio tonight. So why don’t we save the reminiscing and one-upmanship for some other time, and get down to business, with me asking the questions and you giving me the answers just as quick as you can.”

“And if I don’t want to answer your questions?”

I put my gin down on the bar and bared my teeth at him in a predatory smile. “Then I hope you enjoyed that drink, because it’s the last fucking one you’ll ever have.”

Kincaid eyed the knife I’d started flipping over and over in my hand again. “You’d kill me just for not answering your questions?”

I shook my head. “No. Like you said, everyone in the underworld knows who I am, or at least who they think I am. I expected you to come after me sooner or later, just like everyone else has. Targeting me is one thing, but you put my friends, my family, in danger tonight—Eva, Violet, and Sophia. And that is what is unacceptable to me. That’s what I’d kill you for and not think twice about it.”

For a moment, I almost thought I saw a glint of respect in his eyes, but he kept his face as cold, remote, and impassive as mine was.

“First question?” he finally asked.

“Who’s the water elemental who killed Antonio?”

Kincaid eyed the empty glass on the bar like he wished it was still full. “What makes you think I know who it is?”

“Because your second-in-command was murdered right in front of you, and you didn’t bat an eye. Water elementals aren’t uncommon, but the way this one used her magic was especially creative and vicious. But you just looked at Antonio, or what was left of him, and you weren’t surprised in the least. So that makes me think you know exactly who this elemental is and what she’s capable of. Not to mention the fact that you asked me to go after her . Not the elemental, not whoever had done this, but her .”

Kincaid kept his gaze on the glass, so I decided to push him even more.

“And then there’s Eva, who said that she wasn’t leaving you behind again . Which, naturally, implies that she did leave you behind at some point before. Add that to everything else, and it seems that you know a hell of a lot more about what’s going on than I do. I don’t like to be kept in the dark, Philly—or worse: used. Believe me when I tell you that a person only ever does that once to me.”

A muscle twitched in his cheek, but that was his only reaction. I thought Kincaid wouldn’t answer me or that perhaps he was thinking of some lie or some way he could spin what had happened to Antonio. But after a few seconds, he shrugged again and gave me the answer I’d been expecting all along, although he did add a caveat that took me by surprise.

“Her name is Salina Dubois,” he said, lifting his head and looking at me. “And I want you to kill the bitch for me.”

So my suspicions were correct, and Salina Dubois was a water elemental—one who could use her magic to kill as easily as I could with my own Ice and Stone power.

I’d thought as much, given the distinctive feel of the water elemental’s magic—magic that had felt exactly like the power that Salina had subtly given off when I’d shaken her hand at Underwood’s. At the restaurant, I’d thought that perhaps Salina was a weak Ice elemental or gifted in some subset, like water. Now, I knew exactly what kind of magic she had—and that she wasn’t weak at all.

But Kincaid’s confirmation raised even more questions. Did Owen know about Salina’s magic? Did he know what she could do with it? Could my lover be in danger from her? And how did Eva and Kincaid fit into all of this? What tied them all together?

Kincaid watched me closely, waiting to see what effect his bombshell and subsequent request would have on me, but I didn’t give him the satisfaction of reacting.

“Didn’t you hear me?” he asked. “I want you to kill her for me. I want you, the Spider, to kill Salina Dubois.”