Owen and I took the bedroom on the ground floor, while everyone else trooped to the upstairs bedrooms. I wanted to be downstairs, wanted to be the first line of defense, just in case any of the bounty hunters traced us here. The odds of that happening were next to impossible, especially since on paper the cabin was owned by Nick A. Medes, which was one of Fletcher's rock-solid aliases. But Sophia had volunteered to stand watch, just in case. I would have done it myself, except that Jo-Jo bullied me into getting some rest.


I was tired-so tired-but I couldn't sleep. Instead, I paced back and forth across the bedroom, the wooden floorboards creaking under my bare feet. Owen watched me from his position on the bed. He didn't say anything, but his gaze never left my tight face.


"I'm sorry," I said, finally stopping to turn and look at him.


"For what?"


I threw my hands out wide. "For all of this. For the fact that you and Eva are now on the run because of me, because of my being the Spider."


Owen sighed. "There's nothing to be sorry for, Gin. I knew that this was a possibility when we got together. I knew that you were going after Mab, and I knew that it might come to this."


"Yeah," I said, flopping down on the bed beside him. "But it's not exactly what you signed up for, is it?"


Owen shrugged. "Maybe it's not, but I wouldn't trade it-or you-for a second. You know how much I care about you, Gin. You know how much I love you."


He'd finally said the words that I'd been dreading and longing to hear.


And I wanted to say them back to him.


My mouth opened, but the words-the damn words-just wouldn't come out. They snagged in my throat, choking me, even as the syllables squeezed my heart like a silverstone vise cranking tighter and tighter. My emotions were just too raw from everything that had happened tonight and all the awful things that might happen tomorrow. I couldn't speak, I couldn't breathe, I couldn't do anything but just feel-feel all the love I had for Owen.


Part of me knew that my gaped-mouth silence was stupid. I should tell Owen how I felt now, tonight, before another second passed. But part of me wanted to wait. When I told Owen I loved him, I wanted the moment to be about him, about us, and what we had-not because Mab was more than likely going to kill me tomorrow.


But try as I might, I just couldn't force out the words. Agony welled up in my aching chest, and a crazy, feverish sort of passion gripped my body. So I did the only thing that I could do-I leaned forward and kissed Owen.


My tongue drove into his mouth, over and over again, even as I started tearing at his clothes. Maybe I couldn't say the words, but I could show Owen how much he meant to me. I needed to-I was desperate to.


I didn't want to think tonight. I didn't want to think about the fact that Mab had Bria. That the Fire elemental had already tortured my sister, would torture her even more before the night was through, and that there was nothing I could do to stop it. No way to rescue Bria. No way to break into Mab's mansion without getting myself and everyone else killed in the process. No, I didn't want to think tonight.


But for once, I couldn't bury my emotions, my feelings. Couldn't pretend they didn't exist or that my heart wasn't breaking for Bria, even as it swelled with love for Owen. Everything I'd been through tonight-fighting Mab, feeling her Fire burn me, battling the bounty hunters, losing Bria in the woods-roared up inside me, a tidal wave of emotion that I just couldn't fight any longer. It needed a release-now, before it consumed me.


Owen let out a low growl, wrapped his hand in my hair, and pulled me down on top of him. His tongue met mine, dodging and darting just as fast and hard as mine did, even as we sucked the air out of each other's mouths. Owen raked his teeth across my earlobe before his lips dipped lower, nipping at my neck.


"Mmm," I murmured, feeling my desperation melt into a far more pleasurable form of agony. "You know how much I-I love it when you kiss me there."


"And you know how much I love you," he rasped against my neck.


I responded by ripping open the flannel shirt he'd changed into after taking his own shower. The buttons flew everywhere, landing on the wooden floor, but I didn't care. I was already leaning forward, tracing my tongue down his broad, muscled chest. Owen kneaded my back, urging me on, letting me take the lead. But I was feeling too much, too hard, too fast, and my hands shook as I tried to work the button on his jeans, my fingers slipping off the smooth metal.


"Here, let me," he murmured.


Owen popped open the button, then drew down the zipper. He lifted his hips, and I peeled the jeans off him. He wore nothing underneath, and I stopped a moment to admire his muscled body, and his erection that was already waiting for me. I started to lean down and put my mouth on him, but Owen grabbed my arms.


"Not yet," he whispered. "Let me take care of you first."


I didn't have time to protest before Owen rolled me over onto my back. He took a little more care with my borrowed clothes than I had with his, but they disappeared soon enough. Owen's lips scorched a path down my neck before his mouth closed on my right nipple. Over and over, he ran his tongue over the peak before gently scraping his teeth across the tip. He repeated the process on my other nipple until I wanted to scream with pleasure and frustration. I arched up off the bed, already wanting to feel him moving inside me.


Owen had other ideas. His tongue moved from my breasts and dipped into my bellybutton before sliding lower. I opened my legs, and he put his mouth on me, flicking his tongue against me with exquisite precision, ratcheting up my desperate need that much more.


Where he had been gentle, patient even, before, now he became as hard and wild as I had been, his tongue driving deeper and deeper into me, making me thrash and moan beneath him.


"Owen," I rasped, my fingers digging into his shoulders. "Owen."


Finally, just when I thought I couldn't take any more, Owen got up on his knees and pulled me up to him. Our arms locked around each other, and our bodies melded together.


Now we were both out of control-our passion for each other, our desire, our need, burning, burning, burning. Our hands were everywhere, kneading, caressing, stroking, and our tongues dueled back and forth as we moaned into each other's mouths.


Finally, I got the upper hand. I pushed Owen down onto his back, straddling him. I took his hard cock in my hand, thumbing the wet tip before lightly raking my nails down the whole length of him. He shuddered with pleasure under me, his muscles straining.


I reached over, opened the nightstand drawer, and drew out a condom from the box there. Of course, I took my pills, but we also used extra protection for a variety of reasons.


Owen arched an eyebrow. "You're always prepared for everything, aren't you?"


I smiled down at him. "The cabin is nothing if not well stocked."


Using my hand and then my mouth, I teased his cock a little more, until his hands were fisting the sheets just as mine had been a few minutes ago, before I unrolled the condom over his straining shaft.


"Gin," Owen murmured. "My Gin."


"Oh, yes," I said. "You're mine. And I want you-now."


I went up on my knees, then sank down, taking him deep inside me. Owen pulled me down on top of him, and we rocked back and forth, thrusting against each other as hard and fast as we could. Until everything that we'd both been feeling tonight-all the fear and agony and passion and love-exploded inside us like a shower of stars falling from the sky.


Chapter 24


The next day dawned all too quickly, bringing with it another round of snow-and most likely my messy death at the hands of Mab Monroe.


Last night had taken its toll on us all, physically and emotionally, which was why everyone was still asleep when I slipped out of Owen's warm arms around ten the next morning.


Everyone except Jo-Jo, that is. The dwarf sat at the kitchen table, wrapped in her pink flannel housecoat and sipping a cup of lavender tea. The fragrant fumes filled the air, making it smell warm and soothing. I breathed in, drawing what comfort I could from this safe, quiet moment. Because all too soon, I knew it would be gone-and perhaps me along with it.


"Shouldn't you be asleep like everyone else?" I asked Jo-Jo, as I opened the kitchen cabinets to see what supplies were on hand for a late breakfast.


"I slept plenty before I spelled Sophia from guard duty," Jo-Jo said. "Now, I'm restless, just like you are."


I grunted. Restless wasn't quite the word that I would use to describe my mood. More like resigned. I pushed the feeling aside and started pulling ingredients out of the cabinets. Flour, sugar, salt, and all the other nonperishable staples that Fletcher had packed the cabin with. If I was going to go out today, then I wanted a good breakfast to help me along.


"I grabbed fresh milk, berries, butter, and a few other things from my fridge before coming over here last night," Jo-Jo said. "Just in case you were inclined to feel like making breakfast this morning."


I arched an eyebrow. "Got a glimpse of that with your Air magic, did you? Your precognition?"


Jo-Jo grinned.


"Tell me," I murmured, opening the fridge and grabbing the milk. "Did you happen to see whether I manage to kill Mab today before she kills me? Because right now, I'd take any good news I could get."


Instead of answering me, Jo-Jo stared down into her tea, as though she could read something in the leaves in the bottom of the mug. Hell, maybe she could, given her Air magic. After a moment, the dwarf seemed to decide something because she nodded and looked up at me with her clear eyes.


"Did I ever tell you how I first met Fletcher?"


I shook my head and moved over to the counter where I'd placed the rest of the ingredients.


"It was a week after Sophia was kidnapped."


I jerked around in surprise, and the milk almost slipped from my hands. "Sophia-Sophia was kidnapped? When? By whom?"


Jo-Jo's hands tightened around her mug. "It happened almost fifty years ago. There was a sick, sadistic bastard by the name of Harley Grimes. Half giant, half dwarf, and all mean. Grimes and the rest of his clan of miscreants lived way up in the mountains, even farther up than Warren's store, Country Daze. He saw Sophia one day, and he decided that he was going to have her. When I wouldn't give her to him, he came into my salon and took her. Busted up the place, beat me real bad, then beat Sophia when she tried to stop him."


Breakfast forgotten, I slid into the seat across from Jo-Jo.


Jo-Jo's eyes clouded over, like she was reliving that terrible day-the day that her sister had been taken from her. I knew what she must be feeling all too well. The rage, the frustration, the helplessness. They all pulsed through me with every beat of my heart.


"I went after Grimes, of course, but I couldn't find my way up the mountain to his hideout, and I couldn't get past all the booby traps that he had strung through the woods. Besides, my magic is for healing, not killing. But I'd heard stories about someone who could help, who could kill, for the right price."


"The Tin Man," I whispered Fletcher's assassin name.


Jo-Jo nodded. "So I went through the appropriate channels, and I made contact with him. I told Fletcher that if he brought Sophia back I would be his friend for life-that anything I had would be his, including my Air magic. He agreed to my deal and took off after Sophia."


I could almost see the scene unfolding before my eyes. Fletcher, tall, strong, and in his prime as an assassin. Jo-Jo, desperate for her sister's safe return. And Sophia-no, I couldn't picture Sophia. Not as she might have been back then. Before-before her innocence was taken away from her.


"What-what did Grimes do to Sophia?" I asked.


Tears welled up in Jo-Jo's eyes and trickled down her face. "Just about every awful thing that you can imagine. Rape, torture, beatings. He made her into a slave, made her work from sunup until sundown, then come in and warm his bed at night. Grimes and one of his brothers had some Fire magic in them. The two of them would spend hours torturing her with it-burning her, blistering her skin, even making her breathe it in like cigarette smoke."


An odd thought crossed my mind. "Is that-is that why Sophia's voice is the way it is? So raspy and broken? Because Grimes made her breathe in elemental Fire?"


Jo-Jo nodded. "It damaged her vocal cords something fierce. I offered to fix it for her with my Air magic, but she wouldn't let me. She just-wouldn't."


I leaned over and grabbed Jo-Jo's hand, trying to offer her what comfort I could, even though I hadn't even been born when all of this had happened. But so much made sense to me now. Why Fletcher had such a close relationship with the Deveraux sisters, why they'd helped him so much all these years, even why Sophia was the way that she was-moody, withdrawn, broken. My heart ached for the Goth dwarf. My torment at the hands of Mab had been nothing compared to what she'd endured.


Jo-Jo swiped away her tears and continued with her story. "Fletcher kept his word. He went up that mountain, and he did what I asked him to do, what he'd trained himself to do as the Tin Man. It took him two weeks of guerrilla warfare tactics, but he killed a whole passel of Grimes's men and hurt Grimes himself real bad. Fletcher would have killed the bastard, if one of Grimes's men hadn't gutshot Fletcher. He was almost dead when he showed up on my front porch, but Fletcher rescued Sophia and brought her back home to me. And he made sure that Grimes never bothered us again. Every time that bastard came sniffing around, Fletcher let him know exactly what would happen-that Fletcher would finish the job he started and kill Grimes if he didn't stay up there on his damn mountain and leave us alone."


Jo-Jo fell silent, lost in her thoughts once more. Then she looked at me again, a fierce light burning in her pale eyes.