Salina seemed a little put out that I wasn’t more upset—or perhaps awed—by her appearance, but she got down to business. “Tell me, how is Phillip feeling? I was going to stop by the riverboat this afternoon, but I was in such a hurry to get over here that I just didn’t have the time.”
I didn’t know what she meant by that, or why she had come here in the first place, but I kept my face just as smooth as hers was. Salina wasn’t the only one who could play this sort of game.
“Kincaid is doing just fine,” I replied in an even tone. “Despite your attempt to kill him.”
Salina shrugged again, as if the fact that I’d just accused her of attempted murder was no more worrisome than a piece of lint sticking to her clothes. Given the obvious time, trouble, and energy she’d put into her appearance, I imagined the lint would bother her more.
“I knew I’d sent Phillip a clear message with Katarina’s death, but I didn’t expect him to be so desperate as to hire an assassin to protect him,” Salina said. “I didn’t think Phillip was that smart. Katarina certainly wasn’t.”
“And what was your problem with Katarina?”
Salina smiled. “Nothing in particular, other than I knew she was friends with Phillip. People should be more careful about the company they keep. It can get them into trouble. Just ask Antonio.”
So I’d been right, and she’d killed the others mostly to hurt Kincaid. Cold and cruel.
“I let Katarina know in advance I was coming for her,” Salina continued, as if that excused murdering the other woman in so gruesome a fashion. “Not that it did her any good. It never does, in the end, when I’m around.”
That sounded exactly like something I would say when talking about my prowess as the Spider. She was cocky, I’d give her that. But then again, given what I’d seen her do to Antonio, she had every right to be.
To my surprise, Salina didn’t radiate magic as strongly as many elementals did. Whenever I’d been around Mab, I’d always felt like there were hundreds of tiny, invisible, red-hot needles stabbing into my skin. But it wasn’t like that with Salina at all. In fact, the only feeling I got from being close to her was a vague sense of cool wetness, like if I reached out and touched her skin, it would feel damp and slick. You didn’t have to radiate magic to be a strong elemental, and Salina had more than enough power to be dangerous—even to me.
Besides, like Jo-Jo always told me, it didn’t matter how much elemental power you had—just what you did with it. Even the weakest elemental could kill the strongest, if the circumstances were right.
“Is that why you’ve come back to Ashland?” I asked. “To settle old scores? Like the one you have with Kincaid?”
Salina let out a small, pealing laugh. “Hardly. I’ll admit it’s been . . . amusing seeing my old . . . friends, but the thrill of that has quickly worn off. I’m here on more serious business. Although make no mistake, I’ll get back to Phillip soon enough.”
“And what business would that be? I assume it’s something that weasel Jonah McAllister is helping you with, since you were with him at Underwood’s.”
Salina smiled, but the expression didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Why, Jonah has just been an absolute dream to work with so far. In fact, we had quite an interesting conversation about you, Gin, after you and Owen left the restaurant. Jonah filled me in on all your many . . . exploits.”
Once again, I cursed McAllister and the day his path had ever crossed mine. It was bad enough the lawyer wanted me dead, but he was determined to make as much trouble for me as he could in the meantime. If he hadn’t known about Salina and Owen before, I was sure he did now—and was delighted by their connection and how it might screw up my relationship. That was just the kind of sneaky, underhanded thing McAllister enjoyed, and he’d have been more than happy to see me suffer on my way to getting dead.
Salina straightened up in her side of the booth. “As to what I’m up to, I see no reason to hide it, not from someone like you, Gin. What I want is simple: to take my rightful place in the Ashland underworld. The place my father held before his unfortunate . . . accident.”
“You mean before Mab Monroe staked him out and barbecued him like a pork chop for all his friends to see,” I replied. “And you too. Pity, dear old dad getting roasted like that right in front of you.”
My words were cruel, heartless even, but I’d meant them to be. So far, nothing I’d said or done had bothered Salina in the slightest, and I wanted to rattle her. I wanted to see the real her and not just the polite mask she’d shown me so far. I needed to see the real her—for all sorts of reasons.
Salina’s left hand went to her silverstone cuff bracelet, and her fingers traced over the mermaid rune almost as if she was thinking about reaching for the water magic stored in the metal and using it against me. Something flashed in her eyes then, some hint of emotion I hadn’t seen her show before. I knew it for what it was, though—rage. Absolute, complete, murderous rage. I wondered who it was directed at. Me, for goading her? Mab, for killing her father? Or maybe even daddy himself for not being strong enough to oust the Fire elemental from her position?
Either way, Salina regained her composure in an instant. The rage slid out of her eyes, she dropped her hand from her bracelet, and that cold, remote smile decorated her face once more.
“Yes, well, that’s all in the past now. What matters is the present and, most important, the future. And both of those are all thanks to you, Gin. In fact, that’s why I came here today. To thank you.”
“For what?”
Her smile widened. “Why, for killing Mab, of course. Naturally, I wanted to do it myself and was even planning my long-awaited return to Ashland when I heard the news that you’d done it for me. And I’m not the only one who’s grateful to you for eliminating her. To hear the whispers, it seems that Ashland is wide open to new . . . business interests now that that horrible Fire elemental isn’t around. I’ve heard several folks talk about expanding their investments here. Why, you practically performed a public service, killing her the way you did.”
I’d jokingly said that sort of thing myself more than once, and I wondered if she was mocking me. But she actually seemed sincere, as though I really had done her a favor. Her and everyone else. It was bad enough every low-life and his higher-ups in Ashland were already gunning for me. I didn’t need out-of-towners adding to the mess too—but that was exactly what Salina was describing. I bit back another curse, wondering just how many more people I was going to have to kill before everyone got the message to leave me alone. Before I could enjoy the retirement and the quiet life Fletcher had wanted for me.
“In fact, I’m going to be hosting a little soiree for my father’s old . . . associates tomorrow night at my estate,” Salina said. “A business dinner, if you will. Consider yourself invited as well. After all, as an assassin, you have as much right to be there as anyone else in Ashland these days.”
I might have inadvertently put myself in the underworld limelight by killing Mab, but I’d rather have eaten raw rattlesnake than attend any sort of event Salina had in mind. Still, I matched her fake politeness smile for smile.
“So I take it you’re back in Ashland for good then?” I asked. “Since you plan on picking up your father’s . . . business interests?”
“It’s my home. And I plan to reclaim what’s mine—everything that’s mine.”
I knew exactly what she was referring to, and she confirmed it a second later without saying a word. Instead, Salina lifted her hand. I tensed, wondering if she was reaching for her water magic to use against me, but all she did was wave at someone through the storefront windows.