But most of all, I wanted to confront—and then kill—the source of so many nightmares in my life.
“Don’t worry, Gin. We’ll find the bastard sooner or later, and then you can carve him up to your heart’s delight.” Finn slung his arm around my shoulder in a reassuring hug. “But in the meantime, don’t frown. It makes your face scrunch up.”
“Worried about my wrinkles now?” I teased.
He flashed me a charming, devilish grin, his green eyes as bright as holiday lights in the darkness. “Got to keep my deadliest girl looking young and beautiful.”
I snorted and elbowed him in the ribs. “I am not your girl. I am my own girl.”
“Damn skippy you are.”
Finn hugged me again, silently offering his brotherly love and support the way he had since this whole mess with the Circle had started. I hugged him back, and we walked on.
Thirty minutes later, we reached the edge of the woods and stepped out into a ritzy subdivision, one of many in Northtown, the part of Ashland where the social, magical, and monetary elite lived. Cookie-cutter mansions dotted the gently rolling lawns in front of us. Finn and I headed over to the curb where his Aston Martin sat in front of a mansion that was currently under construction. The expensive car seamlessly blended in with all the Audis, BMWs, and Mercedes that were parked in the spacious driveways up and down the street.
Finn and I slid into the vehicle, and he cranked the engine and blasted the heat. We both sat there in silence for a few minutes, slowly thawing out after our long, cold trek through the woods.
“Where to?” Finn asked. “Our supersecret hideout?”
He was referring to our current base of operations, a battered old metal container that was parked in a shipping yard several miles down the river from our current location. Lorelei Parker, one of Ashland’s many underworld bosses, ran the shipping yard, but she’d given me a container, and I’d made it my own personal safety-deposit box, storing all the information I had about the Circle inside it. Hugh Tucker already knew far too much about me and my friends, but he hadn’t sniffed out the hideout yet or the fact that I’d identified several members of the Circle—and I wanted to keep it that way.
I shook my head. “Nah. Not tonight. I didn’t learn anything earth-shattering.”
Of course that wasn’t true, but I wasn’t ready to talk about Tucker’s relationship—or whatever had been going on—with my mother. “Besides, it’s late, it’s cold, and I’m too tired and cranky to think about conspiracies any more tonight. Home, Finn. Home.”
He winked at me. “As my lady wishes,” he crooned in a really bad English accent.
“Are you going to talk like that the entire ride home?”
“But of course, my lady,” he said, thickening the cheesy accent. “Since I’m acting as your personal driver and chauffeur tonight, I really insist on sounding the part. Anything less would be unseemly. Don’t you think?”
I groaned, but Finn grinned, reached up, and tipped an imaginary hat to me. Then he threw the car into gear, steered away from the curb, and drove out of the -subdivision.
4
Finn drove me to Fletcher’s house—my house now—and dropped me off. A familiar car was sitting in the driveway next to mine, and the front porch light was on.
“What’s Owen doing here?” Finn asked, waggling his eyebrows at me. “You guys having a hot late-night date? A little bow-chicka-wow-wow time?”
I punched him in the shoulder. “Your maturity never ceases to amaze me.”
He snickered and started to tease me some more, but I drew my fist back again in a clear warning about what would happen if he kept on yapping.
Finn threw up his own hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. I’ll keep my mouth shut.” He grinned. “Just don’t do anything that I wouldn’t do.”
I snorted. “You would do anything and everything.”
His grin widened. “I know. That’s what makes life fun.”
And just like that, Finnegan Lane triumphantly got the last word in, beating me two to one tonight.
Finn promised to let me know if he found out anything else about Damian Rivera or what he might have done. I got out of the car, stood on the front porch, and watched until his taillights disappeared down the driveway, then went inside and locked the door behind me.
“Honey, I’m home!” I called out, singing the old cliché.
“In the den!” Owen called back.
I toed off my boots, yanked off my toboggan, and shrugged out of my fleece jacket before walking down the long hallway to the back of the house. I reached the doorway to the den and stopped, my eyes widening at the sight in front of me.
Normally, the den was, well, just a den, with a couch, television, tables, and other well-worn furniture. But tonight it had been transformed into a cozy, romantic space. White and red candles covered the end tables, casting out a warm, soft, flickering light. Thick pillows large enough to sit on had been positioned all around the coffee table in the center of the room, adding to the intimate feel.
Fine china and silverware covered the table alongside crystal wineglasses. Dinner had already been served, and steak and mashed potatoes were on the menu, along with a garden salad and a basket of bread that had just been taken out of the oven, given the delicious curls of steam wisping up from it. Even better, a chocolate cheesecake topped with fresh raspberries sat perched off to one side of the table, just begging to be cut into. My stomach growled in anticipation.
“Do you like it?” a low, husky voice asked.
I looked over at Owen Grayson, my significant other, who was arranging a few more candles on the fireplace mantel. He was a little more than six feet tall, with a body that was all strong, delicious muscle. He struck a match, and the resulting glow highlighted his black hair and rugged features, including his slightly crooked nose and the faint white scar that slashed across his chin.
“What’s all this?”
Owen finished lighting the last candle, blew out the match, and set it aside. A teasing grin lifted his lips. “Not what you were expecting?”
I shook my head. “When you called and said that you wanted to come over tonight, I expected pizza and a movie. Not all this.”
“Well, with all of us working nonstop to learn more about the Circle, we haven’t exactly had time for a proper date these past few weeks.” Owen gestured at the candles, pillows, and gourmet food. “So I thought I’d change that.”
I went over and looped my arms around his neck, staring up into his violet eyes. “Have I told you lately that you’re the best?”
“Right back at you, babe.” He grinned and drew me closer. “Right back at you.”