Read Widow’s Web Page 13


  And then she started torturing Dubois.

  I couldn’t see everything that was going on, but I didn’t need to. I didn’t want to. Dubois’s screams let everyone know exactly what was happening to him—and just how much it hurt.

  The stench of burning flesh filled the warm spring air, reminding me of the night that a Fire elemental had done the same thing to my mother and older sister, how she’d burned them to death. My stomach roiled, and bile coated my throat. For a moment, I thought I might vomit, but I managed to swallow down the bitter liquid that choked me. Other people in the crowd didn’t manage to do the same, turning to the side and retching up the food and drinks they’d just downed.

  Fletcher put his arm around me and held me close, trying to tell me that it was okay, that he was here with me, that we would get through this, but there was nothing he could do—for me or Dubois.

  But the worst part wasn’t the stench or the memories or Dubois’s pleas for mercy or the heat of the elemental Fire scorching my face. No, the worst part was that through it all, I could hear his daughter screaming—screaming for her family just like I had.

  “Daddy! No! Daddy! Daddy—”

  The dream abruptly faded, and my eyes snapped open, although I could still hear the faint echo of the girl’s screams in my head—Salina’s screams.

  For a moment, I wondered what had pulled me out of the vivid memory, but then a creak sounded in the corner, and I realized what had woken me up.

  Someone was in my bedroom.

  16

  My hand slid underneath my pillow and curled around the knife there. I also reached for my Stone magic, ready to use it to make my skin as hard as marble for when I leaped out of bed and—

  “Gin?” a soft voice whispered in the darkness. “Are you awake?”

  Eva. It was just Eva. Although she should have known better than to slip into my bedroom unannounced in the middle of the night.

  I let go of the knife and sat up in bed, shaking off the last bit of the dream. Eva perched on a rocking chair in the corner, her knees drawn up to her chest and her feet resting in the chair seat. She had her arms wrapped around her knees, hugging them in, as if that small motion would protect her from all the big, bad, scary things out there—things I imagined looked a lot like Salina to her tonight.

  “Eva?” I asked. “What are you doing in here? You should be in bed, trying to rest.”

  “I heard you talking in your sleep,” she replied. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  I shrugged. “I had a bad dream. I have them quite often. You know that. So why did you really come in here?”

  Eva didn’t say anything. The moonlight peeking in through the curtains illuminated the whole room, painting everything a soft silver. Even though she was curled up in the rocking chair, Eva still looked like a princess straight out of a fairy tale, her black hair gleaming, her blue eyes luminous, her porcelain skin pale and ethereal.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” I asked. “About Salina? And what you think happened back then? Because downstairs, you looked like you remembered things a lot differently than Owen did.”

  “I don’t think anything,” she said. “I know exactly what happened. It’s not a figment of my imagination or a nightmare or some story Phillip told me. It’s the truth.”

  “So tell me about it. Let me decide for myself what’s real and what isn’t.”

  Eva shivered and hugged her knees in even closer to her chest. “I don’t remember a lot from that time. I was only four. Most of my memories are just hazy flashes of Owen and Phillip, the house we lived in, some toys I had, things like that. But when it comes to Salina, everything is crystal clear, and I can still remember what happened like it was yesterday.”

  She gave me a bitter smile. “Even though I was a kid, I could always tell she never liked me, and I felt the same way about her. But I had Owen and Phillip, and I was happy enough, even if I missed Cooper when we moved out of his house.”

  “Until . . .”

  “Until one day when Salina had on a new dress or maybe a necklace, I don’t remember exactly what it was, but she wanted to show it off to Owen. But he’d promised to play dolls with me so he told Salina he’d look at whatever it was later. Salina never liked being ignored, but I remember glancing up at her at that moment and realizing that she was staring at me with this . . . look on her face. It was just . . . evil.”

  Eva’s voice dropped to a whisper, and it took a few seconds for her to regain her composure and continue.

  “That night, Owen and Phillip went out. As soon as they were gone, Salina grabbed my arm and hauled me into the bathroom. She said she wanted to give me a bath, but I knew better. She never paid me any attention she didn’t have to. I kicked and screamed and tried to get away from her, but of course I couldn’t. She stripped off my clothes, forced me into the tub, and turned the water on, filling it all the way up to the top. . . .”

  “Then what happened?” I asked.

  “She stood over me, and she had this—this smile on her face. And then I felt these invisible hands wrap around my arms and legs, like tentacles sucking at my skin. They pulled me down under the water and held me there, and I couldn’t break free of them, no matter how hard I struggled. But the worst part was that I could—I could see her through the water. Standing beside the tub watching me drown—smiling while I was drowning.”

  Eva turned her face, trying to hide the fact she was brushing away the tears rolling down her cheeks. She drew in a ragged breath.

  “Eventually, Salina got tired of her game and let me out of the tub. I was too scared to even cry by that point. All I could think about was telling Owen when he got home, but Salina must have known that was what I was planning. She got right down in front of me, looked me in the eyes, and told me that this was our new secret game. She said that if I told anyone, anyone at all, that she’d have to play the same game with Phillip—and Owen too. I knew what she meant. That she’d hurt them the same way she had me.”

  “So you kept quiet.”

  Eva nodded. “The next night when Owen and Phillip went out again, she took me into the bathroom, made me get into the tub, and did the same thing—torturing me with her water magic over and over again. And the next night, and the next night.”

  “Oh, Eva, how long did this go on?”

  “A couple of weeks,” she whispered. “It could have gone on forever . . .”

  “If Kincaid hadn’t gotten suspicious.” I finished her thought.

  She nodded again. “I don’t know how he figured it out, but he did. Maybe because I was quiet and withdrawn, and I didn’t want to play with anyone anymore, especially not Owen. I was terrified that if he paid more attention to me than he did to Salina, she would hurt me that much more. Or that she’d hurt Philly and Owen like she’d said she would.”

  “So what changed that last night? What happened?”

  Eva drew in a couple of breaths and let them out. When she spoke again, her voice was even softer than before. “I was in the tub underwater, watching Salina smile at me, and then suddenly Philly was there. He shoved her out of the way, reached down, and pulled me up and over the side of the tub so I could breathe again. She came at him, trying to shove him into the tub too, and he started hitting her. You know the rest. What she told Owen, what he did to Philly because of her lies.”

  I believed her. I believed Salina had tortured Eva with her water magic and that Kincaid had managed to save her. I couldn’t deny that I wanted to believe it, that part of me just wanted Salina to be an evil bitch so she wouldn’t be a threat to me and Owen. But as selfish as my motives were, Eva’s voice, her words, had a ring of truth to them I couldn’t deny. Even more than that, her story added up when what Salina had told Owen simply didn’t.

  “I thought my brother was going to kill Philly, but he stopped himself,” Eva said. “I tried to tell Owen the truth, but Salina was there. While Owen threw Philly out of the house, she grabbed me and told me that I?
??d better keep my mouth shut. She said that if I ever—ever—told Owen what she’d done that she’d hurt him just like she’d hurt me. I believed her, so I’ve kept quiet like a coward and a fool all these years.”

  Her fingers clenched and unclenched, like she wanted to rip the arms off the rocking chair she was sitting in. Like she wanted to scream and shout and tear something to pieces—tear Salina to pieces.

  “You were a kid, Eva,” I said in a soft voice. “There was nothing you could have done. Salina knew that—that’s why she preyed on you. It’s not your fault.”

  Eva’s fingers curled around the chair arms again, so tight that I could see the whiteness in her knuckles from my position on the bed. Then, as suddenly as it had come, the anger drained out of her body, and her face twisted into a disgusted expression.

  “Maybe,” she finally replied, bitterness making her voice harsh. “But that doesn’t make it right. So many times, I’ve thought about telling Owen what happened, about trying to get him to forgive Philly, but I couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if Salina ever found out—if she ever came back to Ashland. And now she has, and it’s my worst nightmare come to life all over again.”

  I could have told Eva that I was sorry for what she’d been through, but I knew better than anyone else that sorry was just an empty word. It didn’t take away the pain—and it didn’t banish the memories, especially when they crept up on you when you were all alone in the dark of the night. That was why I spent so many nights tossing and turning before waking up with a scream stuck in my throat. Because part of me would never forget the things I’d seen, done, and suffered through—just like Eva would never forget what Salina had done to her.

  “I know she probably killed Antonio and tried to kill Phillip just because she could, but I wonder . . .” It took Eva a moment to find her words. “I wonder if she also wanted to teach me a lesson because I was there tonight. I wonder if she wanted me to remember her promise to me. Poor Antonio . . . what she did to him . . .”

  Eva shivered again. She didn’t speak for a moment, but then she raised her eyes to mine. Anger and determination burned in her gaze, and her face looked as hard as marble in the moonlight. I’d seen this look on other people before. I knew what she was going to say next.

  “I want you to kill her, Gin,” Eva said in a fierce voice. “I want you to kill Salina for me.”

  Tick-tock, tick-tock.

  The slow, steady movement of the clock on the wall was the only sound in the bedroom, although the longer the silence stretched, the more the rhythm seemed to change, until it was almost like someone whispering Eva’s words to me over and over again.

  Kill her, kill her . . .

  Eva kept her blue eyes steady on mine. As I stared into her face, I wondered if she really realized what she was asking me to do—and how her simply asking such a thing would affect her more than she realized.

  Finally, I sighed. “Eva—”

  “Name your price,” she interrupted me. “Whatever it is, I’ll pay it. I’ll be twenty in a few weeks, and I can access my trust fund then.”

  “It’s not the money, Eva, and you know it. The situation is . . . complicated.”

  She shook her head. “No, it’s not. Whatever Salina’s come back to Ashland for, why she’s here now after all these years, I don’t know, but it can’t possibly be good. You saw what she did to Antonio and then what she tried to do to Philly. Who’s to say she won’t do the same thing to you or me? Or even Owen?”

  I didn’t have an answer to that. If Salina had come back to Ashland for revenge against everyone she’d thought had wronged her, then Eva could very well be on her hit list. Owen too, if the water elemental somehow blamed him for her banishment—or for not trying to stop Mab from murdering her father.

  “You know that I will do everything I can to protect you, to protect us all,” I said in a careful voice.

  Eva shook her head. “That’s not good enough.”

  “And you know that Owen won’t let anything happen to you,” I said, trying a different tack.

  She laughed, although the harsh sound seared the air like fire. “Normally I would agree with you, but not when it comes to Salina. Even now, I doubt he would believe that she hurt me back then. Even if he did, if she comes after me again, if she comes after him, he won’t be able to fight back, Gin. If it comes down to Owen and Salina in the end, he won’t be able to kill her—and then she’ll murder him. Without a second thought, she’ll drown him or find some other way to use her water magic to kill him just like she promised me she would.”

  The obituary photos of Salina’s dead husbands, the ones who looked so much like Owen, flashed through my mind.

  “You don’t know that Owen would let Salina kill him,” I said, even as my heart screamed at the thought.

  “Oh, yes, I do,” Eva snapped. “He never could think straight when it came to her. Kind of like you and Donovan Caine. Owen told me you ran into him while you guys were on vacation in Blue Marsh—he said that Donovan wanted to get back together with you, and he could practically see the sparks between you—and this is just like that.”

  I winced. Seeing Donovan had brought up a lot of memories about our often-strained relationship—just like what seeing Salina had done for Owen. But I’d dealt with my unresolved feelings for Donovan, and Owen and I had grown closer because of that. I just hoped he could do the same when it came to Salina.

  “I’m over Donovan, and I have been for quite some time now, thanks to your brother,” I said. “What makes you think Owen isn’t over Salina?”

  Eva let out a breath. “I don’t know that he isn’t, but Salina always gets what she wants—always. She did back then, and she will now too. She’ll blindside Owen, and he’ll believe all her lies again, just like before. And I don’t want to take that chance. Do you, Gin?”

  No, I didn’t, but Owen wouldn’t like me agreeing to kill someone for his baby sister much either—especially when that someone was his former fiancée. Despite the fact that she was practically grown, Owen still tried to shield Eva from all the bad things in the world—including my activities as the Spider. Although thanks to Salina, Eva had seen and endured more troubles than I would have ever imagined.

  Eva sensed my hesitation, so she decided to play her trump card.

  “Salina Dubois is my Mab Monroe,” she said in a cold, flat voice. “I was four years old, four years old, and she tortured me for weeks, Gin, and not for any more reason than that she was jealous of the attention Owen paid me—that and because it amused her to hurt me. I want her dead. Simple as that. She deserves it for what she did to me, and even more so for lying and saying that Philly tried to rape her. Owen almost beat him to death for that, and she just stood there and watched it happen, knowing it was a damn lie the whole time.”

  Eva looked at me, but I still didn’t answer her.

  “Fine,” she snapped. “If you won’t help me, then I’ll do it myself—I’ll kill Salina myself.”

  “And how will you do that?”

  A stubborn look filled her face, and her hands clenched into fists. “I don’t know, but I’ll find a way. Just like you always do. I’ll buy a gun or something. Shouldn’t be too hard to find one over in Southtown. I’ll just walk over there after classes one day.”

  It was bad enough Eva wanted to hire me to off Salina. Her planning a trek into Southtown and trying to take out the water elemental herself would be disastrous all the way around. Eva would be dead on those mean streets long before she ever had a chance to get close to Salina. Owen would never forgive me if I let her do something so dangerous—and I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself either.

  Between a rock and a hard place. A spot I always seemed to find myself in.

  I sighed. “All right, all right. You win. Leave Salina to me.”

  “So you’ll kill her then?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “It depends on what she’s really doing in Ashland besides murdering people with her w
ater magic. But I promise you this: if she lifts so much as a finger in your or Owen’s direction, I will take her out.”

  “No matter what Owen thinks?”

  I paused. Once again, I wondered if she realized what she was asking of me, the position she was putting me in—and if I’d be able to go through with it in the end.

  “Gin?”

  But try as I might, I couldn’t say no to the soft plea in her voice. I couldn’t say no to the tremulous hope shining in her eyes. I couldn’t say no to the chance to quiet her nightmares.

  “No matter what Owen thinks,” I agreed in a grim tone.

  “And Philly?” Eva pressed her advantage. “Will you protect him from Salina too?”

  “Phillip Kincaid is more than capable of protecting himself,” I said. “Or at least putting enough of his giants in between him and Salina to make things interesting.”

  “Please, Gin,” she said, a pleading note creeping into her voice. “I care about Philly too. He’s my friend.”

  I thought he was a little more than a friend, given the adoring way Eva had been looking at him earlier on the Delta Queen, but I didn’t mention that. I couldn’t do anything about Eva’s crush on Kincaid. No matter what I thought of the casino boss, he had tried to protect her tonight, by hiring me to cater the fund-raiser. In his own way, Kincaid cared about Eva just as much as she did about him. It was a big point in his favor.

  “We don’t have a deal if Philly isn’t a part of it,” she said.

  Despite the situation, I smiled. When she put her mind to it, Eva Grayson was just as tough a negotiator as her big brother was.

  “I’ll do what I can for Kincaid, providing he decides to play nice with me, but you and Owen come first, agreed?”

  “Agreed,” Eva said, somewhat mollified. “Thank you, Gin.”

  “Now go back to bed,” I said, sidestepping her thanks. “Try to get some sleep.”

  Eva nodded, slipped out of my bedroom, and closed the door behind her. Through the walls, I heard the floor creak and the bed frame squeak as she walked down the hall and crawled back under the covers in the bed in the guest room.