Elemental Assassin 04 - Tangled Threads

with my Ice and Stone magic, just like I had before when I’d been tied down to the chair.
    One by one, I blasted the rocks out of my way, not even caring that the flying shards stung my face like bees. Blood ran down my hands and cheeks, mixing with my own hot tears.
    Finally, I found the thing that I was dreading most. Because instead of Bria, instead of my baby sister smiling up at me out of the rocks, all I saw was blood.
    So much blood.
    Too much blood for anyone to lose and still live.
    Bria was dead. I’d brought her out here and hidden her so that she would be safe from the Fire elemental and her men. She probably had been—until I’d used my Ice and Stone magic. Until I’d lost control and lashed out with it without thinking. I’d caused our whole house to crumble—right on top of my baby sister.
    I’d killed my own sister with my magic.
    My knees buckled, and I crumpled in the rubble, screaming once more, this time with grief. Bria was dead … dead … and I’d killed her—
    I woke up with my mouth open in a silent scream and cold sweat dripping down my face. For a moment I was back there again, trapped in the rubble of my own house, slowly realizing that I’d killed my younger sister even while I’d been so desperately trying to save her. It was as fresh and raw to me as if it had just happened.
    Then I remembered who I was. Where I was. And that I was safe now. And so was Bria.
    I flopped back against the pillow and turned my head, my eyes going to the phone resting on the nightstand beside me. I reached for it. I thought that I’d lost Bria once back then, and I’d carried the guilt of her supposed death with me ever since. I wasn’t letting her go a second time, no matter what it took for her to accept me. No matter how long it took.
    The phone rang three times before she picked it up.
    “Hello?” She sounded as wide awake as I was right now, despite the late hour.
    For a moment, I found myself searching for words, the way I always did whenever I called her. I drew in a breath and forced myself to speak.
    “It’s Gin,” I finally said. “Can we talk?”

30
     
    The next day was Christmas Eve. The Pork Pit wasn’t officially open for business, so I’d given all of the waitstaff the day off with pay, but Sophia and I had a few last-minute orders to see to before we closed down for the holiday. And I had some last-minute shopping to do, because I still hadn’t decided on a present for Owen, and time was running out.
    In between cooking and giving people their party orders, I kept one eye on the clock on the wall, counting down the hours until my visitor arrived. Finally, three o’clock rolled around. At one minute after, the front door opened, causing the bell to chime, and she stepped into my restaurant.
    Detective Bria Coolidge. My baby sister.
    She looked as cool and professional as ever in her long coat, sweater, jeans, and boots. Her badge glinted a warm gold on her leather belt next to her gun. She stood in thedoorway, as if she wasn’t quite sure what she was doing here. That made two of us.
    Sophia and I both looked over at her. Then the dwarf turned her flat, black eyes to mine and gave me a small, encouraging nod.
    “Back,” Sophia grunted in her broken voice, disappearing through the swinging doors to give us some privacy.
    I wiped my hands on a dishrag, stepped around the counter, and approached my sister. “I’m glad you came.”
    Bria just shrugged, as though she didn’t trust herself to speak yet.
    I locked the front door behind her so we wouldn’t be interrupted. We settled ourselves at one of the booths next to the storefront windows—the same booth that Jonah McAllister and Elektra LaFleur had sat in when they’d come into the restaurant a few days ago. This time, though, the irony didn’t bother me. Because LaFleur was dead, and I wasn’t.
    “Do you want anything to eat? Something to drink?” I asked.
    Bria shook her head and looked at me, clearly wanting me to go ahead and say whatever was on my mind. Okay. I could do that. I hoped.
    I drew in a deep breath and slowly let it out. And then, I started, telling her all the things I’d longed to for so long now.
    “I called you so late last night because I had a dream about you—about the night that Mab murdered our mother and Annabella,” I said in a low voice.
    Bria frowned, as though she didn’t quite believe me. “You had a dream? About me? About that night?”
    I nodded. “I’ve been