Salina kept staring at Owen. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Please,” I scoffed. “Phillip Kincaid never tried to rape you, and we both know it.”
The water elemental’s eyes narrowed, and she finally deigned to look at me again. “Why would you say that?”
Better to let Salina think I’d seen through her lies and focus her attention on me, rather than realize that Eva was finally ready to tell Owen how the water elemental had snowballed him. I didn’t want Eva in any more danger than she already was.
“Because your story? The one you just got all teary-eyed over? It’s complete and utter fiction. I’ve met a lot of liars in my time, but I have to say that you are one of the best. Very impressive. Really.”
Once again, that calculating look flickered across Salina’s face, as she debated whether she wanted to try to work her charm on me. I could have told her not to bother, that I knew anything coming out of her mouth was more than likely either an outright lie or a truth she’d conveniently twisted.
Salina Dubois was every inch the sly, dangerous elemental Eva and Kincaid claimed she was. I wondered if she’d always been this way, as Roslyn seemed to think, or if she’d changed because of her father’s murder, like Owen claimed.
Daddy! No! Daddy! Daddy—
For a moment, Salina’s screams rang in my ears, and I had to breathe in several times to get the phantom, acrid stench of singed skin out of my nose.
It didn’t really matter why or when Salina had become the person she was. The real question was, why hadn’t Owen seen it? Had he been that in love with her? So devoted to her that it had blinded him to what she was really like and how she was manipulating him? The thought made my heart twist once more.
Still, despite my reasons for disliking the water elemental, I couldn’t quite banish the faint echo of her screams. So I decided to give Salina a chance—more of one than she’d given Antonio and Kincaid.
“I don’t know what game you’re playing—with Owen, with Kincaid, with McAllister—but forget it,” I said. “Pack up and leave Ashland while you still can.”
Salina smiled yet again. “Why, Gin, if I didn’t know better, I would say it sounds like you’re threatened by little ole me.”
I snorted. “Hardly. I eat haughty, arrogant, manipulative, self-important bitches like you for breakfast, sugar. And then I go back for seconds.”
The serene smile flickered for a moment then dropped completely off Salina’s face, and the coldness seeped into her eyes, making them glitter like ice.
“And I would suggest you watch your tone with me,” she snapped. “I’m a Dubois. That name means in something in Ashland.”
“Correction,” I snapped back. “That name used to mean something in Ashland. Not anymore. Not for a long time now. And my mother was Eira Snow, one of the strongest Ice elementals this city has ever seen. So I’ve got just as much right to claim this grand old family legacy as you do.”
This time, Salina snorted. “Keep telling yourself that. Just like you’ve apparently convinced yourself that Owen cares about you. Maybe he does, but that won’t last long. He always comes back to me in the end because he loves me—nobody else. I’m Owen’s, and he’s mine. That’s the way it’s always been since the moment we first saw each other, and that’s the way it’s always going to be. You’re deluding yourself to think otherwise.”
I wasn’t the one here with delusions, but once again, I was struck by the utter sincerity in her voice. Despite the fact that Owen couldn’t hear us and she didn’t have to keep up any pretense with me, Salina still radiated wounded honesty. It was almost like she actually believed all the lies she was spouting, that she had rearranged events in her head to create whatever story she liked best, and everything else, including what had really happened, was just plain unimportant.
Or maybe these were truths about her and Owen that I just didn’t want to hear.
At that moment, I couldn’t decide if she was crazy—or if maybe I was.
But I didn’t let her see my doubts. “You really think Owen won’t figure out that you lied about Kincaid? He might not have listened to Kincaid back then, but I’ll make sure that he listens to me now.”
Salina shrugged. “If Owen can bed down with an assassin like you, then I’m sure he can forgive me for anything I’ve done—or will do.”
“I might be an assassin, but I’ve never framed anyone for murder. I’ve never blamed anyone for a crime I committed just to get my way or make things easier on myself. Never tried to, never needed to, never wanted to, but apparently that sort of thing doesn’t bother you.”
Salina shrugged again. “Your opinion doesn’t matter to me in the slightest. The only one I care about is Owen’s, and we all know how . . . forgiving men can be when they see something they want.”
To that, I didn’t have an answer—and we both knew it.
Salina smiled again, gracefully slid out of the booth, and got to her feet. “As lovely as our conversation has been, I’m afraid I’ve got to run. I have a meeting with Jonah and some final preparations to make for my dinner party. I’m so looking forward to reintroducing myself to everyone who matters in Ashland.”
It took a lot to get to me, but there was something ominous about the way she said dinner party that made my skin crawl. I made a mental note to get Finn to check into this shindig Salina was throwing, and to see if he could find out anything about her mental health. It seemed like there was a disconnect going on with Salina, who talked as if framing Kincaid for rape had been of no big consequence and that Owen would just forgive her for doing something so horrible to his best friend, and for killing others.
Once again, I couldn’t decide if she was a master manipulator who was supremely confident in her skills or if she just rearranged things in her own mind to suit the situation. Either way, she knew exactly what she was doing when it came to pushing every single one of Owen’s buttons. But how could she think that he would come back to her after everything she’d done, especially to Eva? If Salina really did have that twisted a view of reality, if she really believed that what she did didn’t matter, then she was even more dangerous than anyone had realized—even me.
“It’s been a pleasure talking to you, Gin. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again soon,” Salina said. “Do be a dear and give my regards to Owen, will you? Tell him I’ve been thinking about him for ages now, and I’m looking forward to finally getting reacquainted again after all these long, lonely years apart.”
Her voice was calm, pleasant, as if she’d asked me to say good-bye to Owen instead of let him know that she had set her sights on him again. I wanted to palm one of my knives and drive it straight into her heart, but I restrained myself, especially since the other customers had picked up on the tension between us and were staring at me like they expected me to take her out in the middle of the restaurant.
I entertained the thought but quickly discarded it. I didn’t want to upset my diners.
Not to mention how Owen would react to me murdering his ex-fiancée right in front of him with seemingly no provocation.
Salina was unconcerned by my lack of response. Instead, she waggled her fingers good-bye at Owen, blew him a suggestive kiss, and then sashayed over to the front door and out of the restaurant.
And all I could do was just sit there, watch her go, and wonder how I was going to unravel all the lies this black widow had told Owen—as well as the ones it looked like she was telling herself too.