By a Thread

behind a fake palm tree in a brass pot in the front corner of the suite.

The door opened a crack, and a pair of bolt cutters slid through the narrow space and caught on the security chain. From my hiding spot, I saw a hand squeeze down on the cutters, which easily sliced through the flimsy metal. Trent, the giant, I thought. He’d have the strength to use the cutters with one hand, and he was probably as pissed at me as Pete was for busting him up earlier. That made at least three guys outside. I wondered how many more Dekes had sent, or if they’d decided to do this on their lonesome. Didn’t much matter. They were all getting dead.

“Quiet now,” Pete whispered. “I don’t want those bitches to know what hit them. Maybe if we’re lucky, we’ll still catch them in bed and make it that much easier for us. We’ll do the two of them tonight, then go out to the restaurant tomorrow and do the same thing to Reyes.”

More dark chuckles filled the air, but they weren’t nearly as black as the cold rage that slowly seeped into my body. It was one thing to threaten me—that was part of my job description as the Spider. But nobody— nobody—came after my baby sister and lived to tell about it. Randall Dekes and his men had just made this fight very, very personal.

The door whispered opened, and light spilled in from the hallway outside. I stayed where I was, hidden behind the potted palm, and let my eyes adjust to the growing brightness. The door opened all the way, and Pete stepped inside the suite. He had on the same garish shirt he’d worn earlier at the Sea Breeze, and his right hand was heavily bandaged where I’d rammed my knife through his palm. That wouldn’t be the only cut he got tonight —not by a long shot.

Another guy, a short human, slipped in behind him holding a large ring of keys that went jingle-jingle-jingle together.

“Quiet!” Pete hissed.

The guy stuffed the keys into his pants pocket. He wore the white linen uniform I’d noticed on the valets earlier, which meant that he worked here at the Blue Sands. Of course he did. Callie had said that Dekes owned the hotel. No doubt the vamp had several folks on staff he could call on for occasions just like this one.

A giant I didn’t recognize crept in behind the valet, and Trent, the giant I’d beaten down before at the restaurant, brought up the rear. The four men eased down the three stone steps into the living room, and there was a whispered conversation as they debated which of the bedrooms to search first.

I stayed where I was, waiting to see if anyone else would follow the men inside, but no one else appeared, and I didn’t hear any soft scuffles of footsteps on the carpet or see any shadows in the hall. Four of them, one of me. Bad odds for them.

The worst fucking odds of their lives.

“There’s no way they’re getting past us,” Pete whispered. “Charlie, turn on the lights so we can see what the fuck we’re doing.”

Charlie, the valet with the key ring, trotted back up the steps and obligingly flipped the switch on the far wall. The second the lights came on, I stepped out from behind the potted tree and kicked the door shut behind me. Didn’t want to be a bad guest and wake the neighbors with the screams that were sure to come.

The door thumped into place, making Charlie, the guy closest to me, whirl around in surprise.

“What the hell—”

That’s all he got out before my knife rammed into his heart, and a crimson stain blossomed like a tropical flower on his white shirt. Charlie was dead before I yanked out the blade and let his body thump to the floor. For a second, the other three men looked at me, eyes wide, mouths open, as if they couldn’t believe that I was up, ready, and waiting for them.

“Get that bitch!” Pete screamed, all pretense of being quiet and sneaky gone. “Now!”

And the fight was on.

Pete rushed at me first. I waited until he was on the stairs, then stepped forward and slammed my fist into his face. He stumbled back, falling off the stairs and hitting a wooden coffee table before rolling off the side and landing on his ass. Before I could follow and finish him off, the two giants came at me.

Swing-swing-swing.

Trent and the other giant worked in tandem, leaping up the steps and lashing out with their fists, trying to pin me against the door, where they could take their time beating me to death. But I slid to one side and scooted back behind the potted tree. The second giant reached through the leaves, trying to grab hold of me, but I ducked around the other side.

Swipe-swipe-swipe.

The giant didn’t even get a chance to untangle himself from the tree before I palmed another knife and started in on him. He was half turned toward me, so I couldn’t slam my blades into his heart and put him down immediately the way I wanted to, but I cut up the right side of his thick, muscular chest like I was butterflying a slab of meat. The giant screamed and staggered back, but I kept right on going with him, opening his stomach from one side to the other, blood and intestines spilling across the white marble floor. The giant screamed again, his feet going out from under him, and slumped to the floor. I drove my knife into his throat, cutting off his hoarse cries of pain, before yanking it back out. He toppled over and joined the valet on the floor, both of them dead.

Trent stared at me, his eyes flicking around the room as if he was considering whether he wanted to fight or run. He should have run.

I started toward the giant, not giving him the chance to decide. Trent turned and headed for the door, but he’d forgotten that the dead valet was lying on the floor behind him. Trent stumbled over the other man, and his head cracked against the closed door. That was all the opening I needed to ram both of my silverstone knives into his back. One blade slipped between his ribs, ripping into his lung, while the other plunged into his heart. Trent screamed once and wobbled back and forth for a moment, his brain struggling to catch up with his fatal injuries. When that happened, the giant crumpled to the floor. I pulled my knives out of his back, knowing that he’d be dead soon enough.

And then there was one.

I turned around and headed toward the last man breathing. Pete scrambled up to his feet, reached around to the small of his back, and came up with a gun. He smiled and leveled the weapon at me. I was too far away to get to him before he pulled the trigger, and we both knew it. I reached for my Stone magic, ready to push the power out into my skin, head, hair, and eyes, ready to turn my body into a hard, impenetrable shell—

A wolf whistle sounded. Pete whirled around at the sound, and a bright, bluish white ball of Ice magic slammed into his chest, knocking him all the way across the room. His body hit the far wall and slid off. He didn’t get up after that.

I walked over to where he’d fallen. Jagged shards of elemental Ice stuck out of Pete’s torso, making it look like a dozen skewers had been driven into his chest. And he thought that I’d shish-kebabed him earlier with my knife. He’d been dead before he’d hit the wall, and his eyes were still open wide with shocked disbelief and agonizing pain.

I turned to look at my sister. Bria stood in the open doorway of her bedroom, her hand outstretched, the cold glow of her Ice magic still coating her fingers. She was a strong elemental in her own right, and she’d had more than enough power to take out Pete with that one blast.

“Nice,” I said. “Very nice.”

Bria dropped her hand, and the cool caress of her Ice magic faded away. “Well, I couldn’t very well let him shoot you, now, could I?”

I shrugged. “I thought you might, after the fight we had earlier.”

Something like hurt flickered in Bria’s blue eyes, but I didn’t have time to think about how much I’d pissed her off again. Instead, I went up the steps and cracked open the door, listening. The suites were spaced pretty far apart, but I’d kicked the door shut, and the men had let out a couple of screams before I’d killed them. Slamming doors weren’t uncommon in hotels, but yelps of pain were another matter.

But the walls must have been thicker than I thought, because I didn’t hear any movement out in the hall. No whispers, no running footsteps, no other doors opening or slamming, nothing. No one seemed to have heard the commotion at all, or if they had, they just didn’t care what it was. Good. That meant we had some time to clean up the scene and get the hell out of here. I didn’t know how many more men Dekes might have in the hotel, either on the staff or his own goons, but Bria and I had definitely worn out our welcome. Best to get while the getting was good.