Deadly Sting (15 page)

15

As I raced toward my destination, I counted off the seconds in my head.

Ten
. . . Reach the end of the rotunda section . . .

Twenty
. . . Start sprinting toward the vault . . .

Thirty
. . . Reach the hallway that leads to the vault . . .

Forty-five
. . . Slow my steps, quick, quick, quiet, quiet now . . .

Sixty
. . . Look for a place to hide out of sight of the vault entrance . . .

Seventy
. . . There, behind that doorway will do, giants have already looted this room . . .

Eighty
. . . Knife in my hand, the spider rune stamped into the hilt pressing against the larger scar on my palm, familiar, comforting . . .

Ninety
. . . Take a breath . . . get ready . . .

BOOM!

For a moment, there was just—noise. I couldn’t see the explosion, but I heard it, this great, thunderous roar, like a dragon belching fire, which rocked the whole museum. All around me, the stones screamed as the bomb blasted through the gate and into them, scorching the marble with heat and smoke and force and fire. I winced and shut the anguished wails out of my mind. I didn’t like destroying stone, especially something as beautiful as the museum’s gray marble, but it was a necessary evil—just like all the other horrible things I planned to do before the night was through.

More like before the next three minutes were through.

As soon as the last rumble from the blast faded away, I started counting off the seconds in my head once again.

Ten . . . twenty . . . thirty . . . forty-five . . .

The door that led toward the vault area flew open, banging into the wall so hard that it cracked the stone there. Clementine raced out, a gun in one hand and her walkie-talkie in the other. Dixon rushed along behind her, his gun also drawn. Given what I’d seen on the security camera earlier, that meant that there were at least three men still in the vault with Owen, maybe more.

“What the hell was that?!” Clementine screamed into her walkie-talkie as she ran.

Crackles and hisses burped back to her, but I couldn’t make out the sounds or what the other giants were saying. It was all just background noise anyway. The only thing that mattered right now was reaching Owen and getting him to safety.

I waited until the two giants had disappeared down the hallway, then grabbed a second knife and sprinted for the open door. It led into a short hallway that opened up into an enormous chamber, with the vault sitting at the very back of that room. I raced forward, not even bothering to be quiet or cautious. The time for that was long over, along with hiding in the shadows.

Too bad the giants were waiting for me.

There were three of them in the chamber, just as I’d seen earlier through the security-camera feed. All three had their guns drawn and were facing the door, forming a solid line of mass, muscle, and malice. For a moment, my gaze flicked past the giants to Owen, but I couldn’t see him clearly, so all I got was the sense that he was standing behind them, nothing more. One of the giants stood at more of an angle to the door than the others, his weapon trained on Owen instead of me. Still, the sight lifted my heart, because if Owen was still standing, then he was still breathing, still alive—which meant that I still had a chance to save him.

As soon as they saw me running toward them, two of the giants lifted their guns and fired. Not able to avoid getting hit, I reached for my Stone magic and used it to harden my skin.

Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!

Bullets zipped through the air all around me, and the stench of gunpowder mixed with the haze of smoke and fumes from the elemental Fire and the welders’ torches that had been used on the vault. A couple of the bullets hit my chest and bounced off, adding more holes to my already ruined dress, not to mention ugly black spider-web cracks to the walls.

I threw myself forward onto the giant on the far right, since he was holding a gun in one hand and a ball of elemental Fire in the other.

My knives punched into his chest in a quick one-two combination. The giant screamed, rammed his gun against my chest, and pulled the trigger, but the bullet hit my hardened skin and bounced off like all the others had. With his other hand, he shoved the ball of Fire into my chest, but I stepped forward and plastered my body to his, smothering the flames before they could do much more than singe my dress.

I stepped to one side so that the giant was between me and his friends, pulled my knives free, and then plunged them back into his chest once more in that same brutal one-two combo, like a boxer working his opponent on the ropes. Only instead of going in for another quick jab, I yanked the knives out a second time and sliced one of the blades across his throat.

I’d just repositioned the knives in my hands when the giant in the middle cursed and shoved his dying comrade out of the way. He dropped his gun, realizing that it wouldn’t do him any good, and slammed into me, driving me across the chamber and into the far wall, right next to a table filled with art supplies. The force of the blow ripped my knives out of my hands and forced the air from my lungs with an evil hiss. My head snapped back against the marble, and I blinked and blinked, trying to fight off the sudden daze. My hold on my magic slipped, and my skin reverted to its normal soft texture. The giant noticed and grinned, drawing his fist back for a killing blow.

Desperate, I reached down, searching for something, anything, that I could use to fend off the giant. My hand closed around a handle on a small bucket of paint. I brought it up and slammed it into the side of the giant’s face. Scarlet paint erupted out of the bucket and splattered all over him. The giant grunted and shook his head, trying to clear the fog from his mind and the paint out of his eyes.

I tossed the bucket aside and reached down again. This time, my hand closed around a paintbrush with a thick handle. I snapped the brush down at an angle on the edge of the table, causing the wood to crack on a diagonal and giving me a sharp point to work with instead of just a blunt block of wood.

The giant reached for me again, and I buried the daggerlike tip of the paintbrush in his throat. The wood wasn’t nearly as sharp as one of my knives, but I kept sawing it in deeper and deeper, and the giant quickly started backing away from me instead of surging forward.

I didn’t let him.

I held on to the end of the paintbrush and followed him, still twisting the wooden point into his body. When his legs finally started to buckle, I ripped the wood out of his throat and drove the point through his right eye, causing him to topple to one side.

He was dead before he hit the floor, but I was already moving, moving, moving toward the third and final man.

“You bitch!” he growled.

The last man had a gun too, which he immediately turned in my direction. But the giant had forgotten that Owen was also still in the vault—and holding a burning welder’s torch. Owen reached up, grabbed the giant’s shoulder, and shoved the concentrated flame into the back of the giant’s head. His hair went up in a
whoosh
of smoke, and the acrid smell of charred flesh flooded the vault. The giant forgot all about shooting me. Instead, he screamed and batted at Owen, trying to push him away. I grabbed my knives from the floor, and a blade to the giant’s heart ended his struggles and misery.

I stood there, a knife in either hand, breathing hard and trying to suck down as much oxygen as I could and push away the dull, pulsing pain of the fight. Owen slowly lowered the torch and turned it off.

We stared at each other, blood everywhere, three dead giants at our feet, the air hot, thick, and caustic with the stench of melted metal, burnt hair, and singed skin. Not exactly a romantic reunion, but I’d take what I could get, especially since we’d both survived the fight.

“Gin?” Owen whispered, his face white and tight with shock. “Is that really you?”

I grinned. “Isn’t all the blood a dead giveaway?”

“But I thought . . . in the rotunda . . . the body . . .” His voice trailed off, as if the words choked him.

I shook my head.

He looked at my ruined dress, and understanding flashed in his violet eyes. I kept staring at him, wondering what he was thinking, what he was feeling now that he knew I was still alive.

Without a word, Owen stepped forward, dragged me into his arms, bloody knives and all, and crushed his mouth to mine.

16

I sighed, welcoming the sensation, welcoming the embrace, welcoming
him
.

For a moment, our bodies melded together, even as our tongues dueled back and forth in a hot, furious kiss. His fingers pressed into my back, and I stepped even closer to him, desperate for more, aching for every single part of me to be touching him. Owen’s mouth slid off mine, and he buried his lips in my hair, his arms tightening around me even more, even as we both trembled and tried to catch our breath.

I closed my eyes, brought my hands up to his muscled back, and returned his hug, careful not to cut him with my knives. Then I just enjoyed the moment—the solid strength of his arms circling me again, the warmth of his skin pressing into mine, the hot whisper of his breath in my hair. I drank it all in, imprinting it on my mind, holding it close to my heart, and savoring every last second of it.

Then I dropped my arms and slowly pulled away from him, because we weren’t safe yet, and the danger was far from over.

“How are you?” I asked. “Did they hurt you?”

Owen shook his head. “No. They just wanted me to open the vault, which I finally managed to do, right before that explosion ripped through the air. Your handiwork?”

I grinned again. “Of course.”

Owen grinned back at me. Once again I savored the moment, then headed over to the vault door. Except for the wheel and hinges, which both had a smushed, melted look to them, the once-sturdy door was still intact—it just wasn’t standing in front of the vault anymore. The door had been moved to one side, creating a five-foot-wide opening into the vault.

Owen noticed me staring at the door. “Once the giants and I got through the lock and hinges, Clementine picked up the door and lifted it out of the way all by herself. It was impressive. I had no idea she was that strong.”

He was right. It
was
impressive—and worrisome. Because Clementine being that strong meant that I’d have to be even stronger to kill her. And I simply wasn’t. Not now.

Oh, I was a powerful elemental, but I’d already used up part of my magic fighting her crew. I had some power stored in the spider rune ring on my index finger and the knives I was carrying, but I didn’t know if it would be enough. Now I was starting to wonder if the power, magic, and energy I’d already expended would mean the difference between Clementine dying—or me.

Owen sighed and slumped against the side of the vault. For the first time, I noticed the sweat and soot on his face, the tired slant of his mouth, the slight sag of his shoulders. Sparks from the torches had landed on his tuxedo, leaving holes in his jacket, shirt, and pants, and his black hair was plastered to his forehead. Still, I thought he’d never looked more handsome or appealing.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

He nodded and straightened up. “Yeah, just tired. Using my magic on the door was hard—one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.” He jerked his head at the opening. “But it worked just like Clementine said it would.”

“Well, then,” I said. “Let’s finish the job for her and see what’s inside.”

* * *

The inside of the vault resembled something you’d see in a bank rather than a museum. A series of metal boxes lined one of the walls, while sturdy metal shelves took up two others. Three long tables cut through the center of the area, although their surfaces were clean and empty, I supposed so that the museum staff could open the metal boxes and sort through their contents there.

“Well, I certainly don’t see any piles of gold,” I said. “Do you?”

Owen shook his head.

Oh, there were valuables in the vault, and not just the expected paintings and sculptures. A pale jade elephant adorned with gold and emeralds peeped out from one of the shelves, right next to a small onyx statue of a mythological Nemean prowler, its ruby eyes flashing with some evil inner fire. A small antique violin gleamed inside an open case, while a diamond choker perched on a blue velvet stand, the gemstones proudly singing about their own exquisite clarity. The cluster of stones in the middle and the long, swooping lines of the necklace almost made it look like a spider spinning a web of diamonds.

It looked like Mab wasn’t the only power player in Ashland who had stashed her shinies at Briartop. But there was no hoard of gold and nothing that looked like it was remotely worth the risk Clementine and her giants had taken in breaking in here, versus the art they had already swiped from the rest of the museum.

“If it wasn’t gold, then what is Clementine really after?” Owen asked, voicing my thoughts.

I shook my head. “I don’t know, but start looking. Whatever it is, we need to find it and get out of here before Clementine and her men come back.”

Owen started looking at the white labels on the metal boxes along the left wall, while I took the opposite side of the vault, scanning first one shelf, then another. All the while, I was counting off the seconds in my head. It wouldn’t be too long before Clementine realized that she’d been tricked and headed back this way. We needed to be out of the vault by then, or we were dead. But we also needed to find whatever she was after. Otherwise, we’d have no leverage to use to free the hostages.

A minute passed, then two. But all I saw were paintings, jewelry, more small statues, and a couture dress made of crimson feathers and adorned with rubies that was draped over a mannequin in the back corner. Well, Finn certainly would have considered that valuable enough to store inside the vault. And it was even in my color. Heh.

“Anything?” I asked.

Owen shook his head. “Nothing that jumps out at me. You?”

“Same.”

Owen turned toward the wall of boxes again, but I took a step back and examined the vault. We could look for an hour and not find what Clementine had been after, and the giant and her men would return any second. As my gaze flicked from one shelf to another, I realized something important, something I should have remembered before now: that the inside of the vault was made of marble, just like the rest of the museum. An idea popped into my head of a way that I could at least narrow down our search area. I leaned forward, laid my hand on the wall closest to me, and reached out with my magic, concentrating on all the whispers of the stone.

The stone walls hummed with various emotions, mostly lofty pride and haughty arrogance at all the precious things they had housed and kept safe over the years. But those feelings were also mixed with notes of sweet relief, as the museum staff had been glad when certain items had been moved elsewhere so they wouldn’t be held responsible for them anymore. I reached for more of my magic and let myself sink even deeper into the stone, straining to hear every single thing I could from the marbles walls, every harsh note, every soft whisper, every sly murmur.

And I finally found something—a suspicious mutter that was just a little louder and just a little sharper than all the others. I trailed my fingers over the smooth stone, following the echo of that mutter like notes on a roll of sheet music. The sound led me all the way over to a shelf in the back of the vault. To my surprise, there was only one item on this shelf: a tube made out of ebony.

Small, thin, lightweight. There was nothing extraordinary about the tube, except for the design inlaid in the center of the black wood, a thumbnail-size ruby surrounded by several wavy golden rays.

A sunburst. The symbol for fire. Mab Monroe’s personal rune.

“I found it,” I said.

“Are you sure?” Owen asked, coming around one of the tables to where I was.

My fingers closed over the tube, and that mutter in the marble took on an even uglier, darker, harsher note. “I’m sure.”

“What do you think it is?” he asked. “A portrait? Maybe some sort of small painting?”

I shrugged and stuffed the tube into one of the pouches on my stolen utility belt. I also took a moment to snag the diamond necklace I’d noticed earlier and dropped that inside the pouch too. “Don’t know. We can look at it later. Right now, we need to move.”