way that fingernails screeching down a chalkboard drove some folks plumb crazy. Bria grimaced too. She didn’t like the sensation of cooper’s Air magic any more than I did.
For the longest time, all I was aware of were the uncomfortable pricks of cooper’s magic, the coppery glow of his eyes, and the steady tick-tick-tick of the clock on the wall. One after another, the minutes slipped by, but we were all frozen in place, not daring to move or even speak for fear of breaking cooper’s concentration.
I stood right behind the dwarf, while Bria and Roslyn were on the other side of the table next to the sink. Phillip leaned against a cabinet full of mismatched dishes in the corner, his arms crossed over his muscled chest, his jaw clenched so tightly that I could see the muscles standing out in his neck. Rosco lay at Phillip’s feet, his blood— smeared head resting on one of Phillip’s black leather wing tips.
Still, as I stared down at Jo-Jo, I couldn’t help but think back to another place, another time, and another woman lying so very still . . .
The dwarf was totally weird.
That was the thought that kept running through my mind as Sophia closed down the Pork Pit for the night. Fletcher had left me in his restaurant an hour ago, saying that he had some business to take care of.
In other words, he had to go kill someone.
That’s what Fletcher did as the assassin the Tin Man, and that’s what he was going to teach me how to do too. I hadn’t been staying with Fletcher long, just a couple of months, but he’d already showed me lots of ways to defend myself. He said that I was making good progress, mastering the basics. I didn’t really think it was all that difficult. All you had to do was hit your enemy hard and long enough, and he’d eventually go down. All Fletcher was really teaching me to do was to find those weak spots and exploit them to the fullest.
I was disappointed that he’d had a job, especially since he’d promised me that he’d start showing me how to fight with weapons soon, including knives. That was what I was most interested in, since Fletcher used silverstone knives on most of his jobs, and I wanted to be just like him. I had been hoping that this was finally the night, but it hadn’t turned out that way.
So there I was, sitting behind the counter, my schoolbooks spread out in front of me, even though I’d already finished my homework, watching Sophia mop the floor. The last customer had left thirty minutes before, and Sophia had pulled out a radio that Fletcher kept in a slot under the cash register and flipped it on. The radio was tuned to some oldies station, and she swiveled her hips in time to the snappy, upbeat music as she pushed the wet mop across the faded blue and pink pig tracks on the floor and then underneath the matching vinyl booths in front of the windows.
Sophia was dressed completely in black, from her boots to her jeans to her long-sleeved T- shirt. Even her lipstick was black. The only bit of color on her was the grinning white pi-rate skull in the middle of her shirt, which featured crimson flames shooting out of its eye sockets.
Someone took the whole Goth look a little too seriously, if you asked me. Oh, yeah. She was totally weird.
“So,” I said when the song ended and some boring commercials came on. “What do you and Jo-Jo like to do at night for fun? Cook? Watch TV? Play board games?”
Since Fletcher was out on a job, I was going home with Sophia and spending the night at Jo- Jo’s house.
Sophia let out a soft snort at my question. I rolled my eyes. Okay, okay, so the dwarves were probably a little old for board games, but I was just trying to make conversation. It wasn’t like I knew a lot about them, especially not Sophia.
Sure, she worked at the Pork Pit, but she never seemed to pay much attention to me, except to pick me up and move me out of her way whenever I got between her and the stoves. Literally, Sophia would put her hands under my armpits, hoist me up into the air, carry me around the counter, and plop me down on a stool, like I was some dumb kid who didn’t know any better than to touch a hot stove or put my hand in the french fryer when the grease inside it was bubbling away.
Whatever. I was thirteen, not a complete idiot.
“You don’t talk much, do you?” I asked.
Sophia looked at me out of the corner of her eye, but she didn’t even deign to answer me with so much as a grunt this time. She kept right on mopping as if I hadn’t said a word.
I huffed, letting her know how much she annoyed me, but I gave up trying to talk to her. Instead, I cracked open the book of fairy tales that Fletcher had given me and started reading.
Twenty minutes later, I had finished the first two stories.
Why did giants and witches always get such a raw deal? They were just defending themselves from bratty kids who wanted to steal their stuff and eat their property. If someone tried to swipe my golden goose or nosh on a piece of my gingerbread house, well, I’d unleash some of my wicked new self-defense moves on them and show them what was what. And so would everyone else in Ashland. Nobody took kindly to thieves in this city, especially not the folks over in Southtown.
Thinking about gingerbread houses made my stomach rumble, so I slid off my stool and went over to the cake stand sitting in the middle of the counter. I’d helped Fletcher make
some sugar cookies earlier. There were only five left, and I knew that he wouldn’t mind me eating them.
I lifted the glass top, set it aside, and grabbed one of the cookies. The sugary, buttery concoction melted on my tongue, bringing with it the sharp, sweet tang of the almond extract that added extra flavor to the dough. I sighed with contentment and reached for another one—
The bell over the front door chimed, signaling that we had a customer. I quickly chewed and swallowed the rest of my cookie, then wiped the c umbs off my hands, ready to tell theperson that the restaurant was closed for the night.
But there was no need, since Jo-Jo stepped inside.
The dwarf was wearing a long pink coat, and her pearls peeked out from underneath the collar. Gloves the same cotton-candy color as her coat covered her hands, and a matching, fuzzy hat perched on top of her head, hiding most of her white-blond curls from sight.
At the sound of the door chime, Sophia came out of the bathroom, which she’d been cleaning. “Problem?” she rasped.
Jo-Jo shook her head. “I’ve got to go get Finn. The boy’s at some party over in Southtown. Apparently, he decided to flirt with the girlfriend of the guy who brought him, and now he doesn’t have a ride home.”
Sophia snorted. Me too. With Finn, there was almost always some girl involved.
“Anyway, I thought I’d stop and see if you needed anything before I headed in that direction.”
Sophia shook her head. Jo-Jo turned her clear gaze to me.
“What about you, Gin?” she asked. “I’ve got to swing by the grocery store on the way home. How about I get you some of that spearmint hard candy that you like so much, since you’ll be spending the night with us?”
“Sure,” I said in a soft, hesitant voice. “If it’s not too much trouble.”
“No trouble at all, darling.”
Jo-Jo smiled at me, causing the laugh lines around her mouth to deepen and making her face look that much
warmer and more inviting. I found myself grinning back at her. Jo-Jo was one of those folks you couldn’t help but like.
Sophia, not so much. Especially since she was frowning at me—again. She probably didn’t like Jo-Jo bringing me a treat. Then again, Sophia didn’t seem to like
anything about me.
