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I nodded. “I do. Jonah McAllister wants me dead in the worst way. He just doesn’t want to get his hands dirty doing it. LaFleur will be all too happy to do the job for him.”

We sat in the kitchen in silence. In the den, Natasha’s cartoon played on, the high jinks and yuk-yuk laughter sounding cheerily obscene next to the grim reality facing me — kill or be killed. But like it or not, it was the story of my life. It had been ever since I was thirteen. So far, I’d been the one who’d done the killing, and it was a tradition I planned to continue.

“Say that she does come for you, that she comes to the Pork Pit to murder Gin Blanco,” Owen said. “What are you going to do?”

I stared at him with my flat gray eyes, letting him see the cold violence that always lurked there in the depths, just below the calm surface. “My plan is simple really. Kill the bitch before she kills me.”

21

We stayed in the kitchen for another ten minutes, hashing out how things might go down when LaFleur came to the Pork Pit to murder me. Not much to hash out really. I’d kill her, then Sophia would help me dispose of her body. Simple, efficient, deadly. Those were always the best kinds of plans.

Finn and Owen offered to watch the restaurant, to be lurking in the shadows waiting to provide backup when LaFleur called, but I turned them down. I did my best work alone, when I didn’t have other people to think about, when I didn’t have other people to worry about. If I had one second of distraction, one second of hesitation with LaFleur, I’d be the one who ended up dead instead of the other assassin.

Finn and Owen didn’t like it, but they understood my reasoning. When they realized that I wasn’t budging or changing my mind, the two of them reluctantly relented to my decision and left the kitchen. Finn went off to call Roslyn and Xavier and tell them to lie low and watch their backs for the next few days, while Owen checked in with Eva to give her an update on how I was doing.

I stayed behind in the kitchen with Jo-Jo. The middle-aged dwarf had remained silent during most of Finn’s debriefing, but now she turned her pale, colorless eyes in my direction.

“What’s bothering you, darling?” Jo-Jo said.

I sighed. In addition to her healing skills, Jo-Jo also had a bit of precognition. Most Airs did, since their magic let them listen to and interpret all the feelings and emotions that swirled along with the wind. It was just another way in which the dwarf’s power was the opposite of mine. Jo-Jo’s elemental Air magic gave her glimpses of the future, while my Stone power let me see into the past and what had happened in a particular place.

Thanks to Jo-Jo’s precognition, I never could really hide anything from the dwarf, so this time I didn’t even bother to try.

“Elektra LaFleur and her electrical magic,” I said. “She’s strong, Jo-Jo. So strong. Maybe even stronger than I am. LaFleur almost got me last night, almost broke through my Stone magic and fried me alive right there in the rail yard with her electricity. And even though she didn’t kill me, her magic — it hurt so much. It took every bit of strength that I had to keep going after she blasted me with it that first time.”

“You’re worried she might kill you,” Jo-Jo said in a soft voice.

I shrugged. “It’s a distinct possibility. She almost got me last night. Hell, I would have frozen to death anyway if Owen hadn’t found me and brought me here.”

Jo-Jo gave me a thoughtful look. “I don’t know about all that, Gin.”

I stared at her. “What are you talking about?”

The dwarf took a sip of the hot chocolate that she’d made while I was arguing with Finn and Owen. “You don’t really remember much about last night, do you?”

I shook my head.

“I didn’t think so,” Jo-Jo replied. “Sure, you were in bad shape when Owen brought you in, but you weren’t nowhere near close to dying.”

I frowned. It had certainly felt like I was dying, especially since I hadn’t been able to feel any part of my body, there at the end. “What do you mean? I was half-frozen to death, from what I remember.”

“Oh, you were definitely that,” Jo-Jo agreed. “But not because of the river or LaFleur weakening you with her electrical magic. The frozen thing? You did that to yourself, Gin.”

Unease curled up in my stomach. “What do you mean?”

Jo-Jo tilted her head to one side and stared at me with her clear eyes. “I mean that when Owen brought you into my beauty salon last night, you were holding on to enough magic to turn this whole house into a block of solid elemental Ice.”

I blinked. I didn’t remember doing anything like that. I didn’t remember doing much of anything except drifting in and out of consciousness. “But I couldn’t have done that. I couldn’t feel anything, anything at all, not my fingers, not my toes, and certainly not my Ice magic.”

Jo-Jo shook her head. “Maybe that’s what you think, maybe that’s how it felt to you. But somehow, you were using your Ice magic. A lot of it. More than I’ve ever seen you use before.”

This time I shook my head. “I don’t think so. If anything, I should have made myself move, should have made myself get up and start running and stay warm until I could get somewhere safe. Not turn myself into a human Popsicle.”

That’s what I’d done the last time I’d taken a late-night plunge into the cold depths of the Aneirin River after leaping off one of the balconies of the Ashland Opera House. That had been a few months ago when Brutus, aka the assassin Viper, had tried to kill me before I’d stiffed him instead. Brutus had managed to sneak up on me and put a gun to the base of my skull. All the other assassin had to do to kill me was just pull the trigger, but Brutus had wanted to gloat first about getting the drop on me. I’d kept him talking and had managed to turn things around. In the end, I’d left Brutus’s body in the opera house and made my getaway.

For a second, Brutus’s face flashed in front of my eyes. A short, stocky, Asian man with a black ponytail, a rune tattoo of a viper curling up his neck, and a scar slashing down his face to meet it.

I frowned. Thinking about the other assassin reminded me of something, of some small memory, of something that had to do with Elektra LaFleur—

“No,” Jo-Jo said, making me lose my train of thought. “You were too wet, too cold, for that, and you instinctively knew it. So you did the only thing that you could. You grabbed hold of your Ice magic and used it to insulate your body, to wrap yourself in the cold until someone could come and find you and get you warm again. You’ve heard stories about kids up north falling into frozen lakes, getting fished out, and then miraculously being resuscitated a few hours later, right? With almost no damage whatsoever?”

I nodded.

“Well, that’s what you did. You used your Ice magic to lower your body temperature enough to preserve yourself,” the dwarf explained. “Those spider rune scars on your hands were glowing as bright as cold stars with your elemental power. I had a hell of time getting you to let go of it enough so that I could start healing you. Gin, you plumb wore me out last night.”

Jo-Jo Deveraux was one of the strongest elementals I’d ever met, certainly the strongest Air healer. She was the kind of elemental that even someone like Mab Monroe would think twice about taking on. And somehow I’d tired the dwarf last night fighting her Air magic with my own Ice power?

I just didn’t believe it. More importantly, I just didn’t want to believe it. But Jo-Jo had always claimed I had more raw elemental magic than anyone she’d ever seen before — including Mab. I’d never been comfortable with that thought, and once more it made me shiver, even in the bright, cheery warmth of the dwarf’s kitchen.