Unraveled Page 89

   Unfortunately.

   Once I started dropping bodies, the members of the Circle, a secret society responsible for much of the crime and corruption in Ashland, would realize that I was onto them. Then they would close ranks, increase their ­security, and come after me—or worse, my friends. Something that I wasn’t ready for.

   Not yet.

   So as easy as it would have been for me to kill the guard, I let him wander away, never knowing how close he’d come to playing his last video game.

   Once the guard had moved far enough away, I relaxed and looked over at Finn, who flashed me a thumbs-up, then raised the gun in his other hand and saluted me with it.

   His voice crackled in my ear again. “I’ll be here waiting, but with guns drawn instead of bells on. Just in case you need the cavalry to ride to your rescue.”

   I rolled my eyes. “Please. I’m Gin Blanco, fearsome assassin and underworld queen, remember? The only thing I need rescuing from is you and your bad puns.”

   Finn grinned, his white teeth flashing in the darkness. “You know you love me and my bad puns.”

   “Oh, yeah. Like a toothache I can’t get rid of.”

   “That’s me, baby. Finnegan Lane, rotten as they come.”

   He saluted me with his gun again, proud that he’d gotten the last word in. I rolled my eyes, but I was smiling as I turned away from him, left the shadows behind, and hurried toward the mansion.

   * * *

   Since it was January, the holidays were officially over, but someone was being a little slow about putting away the decorations. White twinkle lights were still wrapped around the thick columns that supported various parts of the sprawling, two-story, gray stone mansion, along with strands of illuminated snowflakes that glowed a pale blue. Still more lights and snowflakes curved over the archways and outlined all the windows, along with the white velvet bows hanging in them.

   But this was a new year, with new targets for the Spider.

   I made it across the lawn and hunkered down behind a couple of lounge chairs set up on the patio that ringed the heated pool, as far away from the cheery glow of the holiday lights as I could get. Then I peered around the chairs and over at the mansion.

   Despite its creeping up on eight o’clock, lights burned in practically every room on the first floor, and I spotted several servants moving back and forth, tidying up and doing their final chores for the night. In the windows closest to me, two women were plucking red and green glass balls off a massive Christmas tree that seemed to take up most of the room.

   I watched the women for a few seconds longer, as well as all the other servants that I could see, but no one moved toward the windows and peered outside. No one had seen me approach the mansion, so I raised my gaze to a particular window on the second floor. Lights burned in that room as well, but I didn’t spot anyone moving around inside. Excellent.

   I glanced over my shoulder, but the guard was at the very back of the lawn now, several hundred feet from me, and still playing his game, judging by the faint beeps and trills that whispered into the night. I wouldn’t get a better chance than this, so I slid my knife up my sleeve so that I would have both hands free. Then I surged to my feet, took a running start, leaped up, and grabbed hold of a trellis attached to this part of the mansion.

   The wood groaned under my weight, more used to holding up pretty roses than a deadly assassin, but the slats didn’t crack, and I felt safe enough to keep climbing. Even if the wood had broken and made me fall, I could easily have used my Stone magic to harden my body and protect myself from the rough landing.

   It took me only a few seconds to scale the trellis, hook my leg onto the first-story roof, and pull myself up and onto that part of the mansion. I lay flat on my stomach for several seconds, listening, but no surprised shouts or alarms sounded. I also glanced at the guard again, but he was a murky, indistinct shape in the night. No one had seen my quick, spidery climb.

   Even though lying on the cold roof chilled my body from head to toe, I held my position, once again reaching out with my magic and listening to the stones around me. Just like the ones at the cottage, the stones of the mansion whispered of dark, malicious intent, along with blood, violence, and death. The mutters were much fainter here, more sloppy slurs than clear, distinct notes, as though the stones had been soaked in all the alcohol that their owner so famously imbibed. Still, I could pick out the emotional vibrations from all the evil deeds that had been committed here over the years. Exactly what I would expect from the home of a member of the Circle.

   Even so, the stones’ mutters weren’t as disturbing as those of some of the other places I’d been, and the noise certainly wasn’t going to stop me from completing my mission tonight. So I got to my feet and hurried over to the window that I wanted, the same one I’d looked at earlier. After a quick glance in through the glass to make sure the room was still empty, I pushed aside the twinkle lights and tried the window, which easily slid up. I waited a few seconds, but no alarms blared.

   I shook my head again. You’d think that someone who was part of a decades-old criminal conspiracy would have enough common sense to lock the windows on the second story of his fancy mansion—or at least order his staff to do it for him. But the mansion’s owner thought that he was well protected, anonymous, and untouchable, just like the rest of the Circle did.

   Well, they weren’t. Not anymore. Not from me.

   I pushed aside the white velvet bow, ducked down, and shimmied in through the open window, making sure to close it behind me. Then I turned and looked over the room in front of me.

   The office was the inner sanctum of Damian Rivera, the mansion’s owner and the first member of the Circle who was on my hit list. Several generations ago, the ancestors of Maria Rivera, Damian’s mother, had made a fortune in coal before selling off their mines and branching out into other areas. Maria herself had been big into real estate, buying and selling property all over Ashland, as well as renovating crumbling old homes that she decked out with all the antique furniture and heirlooms she got for a song at various estate sales.

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