Elemental Assassin [9] Heart of Venom (7 page)

“And Jo-Jo?” Bria asked. “What has she told you?”

“Mostly about how she uses her magic to heal,” cooper answered. “I had a cut on my hand the other day, and she talked about her power while she used it to fix me right up.”

Jo-Jo had said that she felt like something bad had been about to happen for weeks now. I wondered if that sense of dread included a suspicion that she might get hurt, if that was why she’d starting showing cooper how she used her Air magic to heal.

“You can do it, coop,” Phillip said in a hearty, cheery voice, clapping him on the back. “I know you can.” 

He didn’t add that cooper simply
had
to figure out a way to make his magic work if Jo-Jo were to survive. We all knew that.

Some of the worry and uncertainty smoothed out of cooper’s lined features at the vote of confidence. He gave Phillip a grateful wink. Then he tightened his grip on Jo-Jo’s hand and leaned forward.

“Well,” cooper murmured. “Here we go. Ready or not.”

His eyes began to glow a bright copper as he reached for his Air magic.

I just hoped it would be enough. 

Cooper’s Air power surged through the kitchen, ruffling my hair and sliding across my bare arms before settling over Jo-Jo.

Even though his magic wasn’t directed at me, it still felt like there were dozens of tiny invisible needles stabbing into my skin, and I gritted my teeth to keep from snarling at the uncomfortable sensation. Two elements always complemented each other, like Air and Fire, and two elements always opposed each other, like Fire and Ice. With cooper’s Air magic being the antithesis of my own Stone power, it simply felt wrong to me, the 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 com
mercials 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 the
person 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.

Well, the feeling was definitely mutual.

“Actually, before I forget, Finn said that he left his coat in 
the back of the restaurant,” Jo-Jo said. “He asked me to bring 
it to him. Gin, can you go get it for me, please?”

“Sure.”

I pushed through the double doors and went into the back.

It took me longer to find the coat than it should have, but 
then again, I didn’t know why it was in one of the walk-in 
freezers to start with. Maybe Finn had been in there making 
out with one of the college-age waitresses. You’d think those 
girls were old enough to know better, but they all giggled 
whenever they saw Finn. I didn’t know why.

I grabbed his coat, which was cold and crusted with ice, and headed toward the front of the restaurant— “You don’t approve of what Fletcher is doing with Gin,”

I heard Jo-Jo say.

I froze, my hand against one of the double doors. One 
good push, and it would swing wide open, and I could step 
into the storefront with the sisters. But instead, I found myself leaving it shut and peering through the small round window set into the top.

Jo-Jo and Sophia stood in the middle of the restaurant in 
the same position as before. Even though I knew that I didn’t 
have to hide from the dwarves, I remained perfectly still. An 
old habit from living on the streets and trying to make myself 
as invisible as possible to all of the big, bad people out there.

“Why don’t you like the thought of him training her?”

Jo-Jo asked, even though Sophia hadn’t answered her first 
question yet. “He just wants to teach her how to defend herself. The way he taught you.”

Silence.

“Too young,” Sophia finally said in her eerie, broken voice. “Too innocent. Too soft.”

Soft? Too soft? I seethed. I wasn’t 
soft
. Not anymore. Not 
since my family had been murdered, and especially not since
I’d been living on the streets. I’d seen things, 
done
things, 
that couldn’t be unseen or undone. Like eating garbage on
a regular basis, scrounging through Dumpsters for enough 
newspapers to stay warm at night, and running away from 
the vampire pimps so they wouldn’t try to force me to be one
of their girls. So if there was one thing that I was not, it was 
soft
.“Well, I guess we’ll see,” Jo-Jo said. “Now, where is Gin
with Finn’s jacket—”

“Right here,” I said, finally pushing through the doors to
the other side.

I handed Jo-Jo the coat.

“Thank you, darling. I’ll see you two at home.” Jo-Jo winked at me, then left.

I turned to Sophia, but she’d already disappeared back into the bathroom to finish cleaning. Of course she had. Anything would be better than having to talk to me.

I had started to go back over to the counter and eat an
other cookie when the bell over the door chimed again. Jo-Jo 
must have forgotten something.

But it wasn’t Jo-Jo. Instead, a skinny blond kid whose 
height suggested he was about my age hurried into the restaurant and ducked down behind one of the booths. He stayed like that for a few seconds before slowly rising, peering over the table, and staring through the windows and out into the street.

“Can I, uh, help you?” I asked.

He whirled around at the sound of my voice, and that’s
when I saw all the blood on him. His face looked like someone had taken a hammer to it. Every part of it from his chin to his cheeks to his forehead was bruised and puffy. Both of his lips were split open and dripping blood all over the floor that Sophia had just mopped. A pair of glasses clung to hisnose, although the frames were bent out of shape, probably by whoever’s fist had plowed into his face so many times. But perhaps worst of all, several red, angry burns dotted his neck, as though someone had lit a whole pack of cigarettes and then stubbed them out one by one on his skin there. More cigarette burns marred his thin arms, but those looked older, since they had already scarred over.