Elemental Assassin 05 - Spider's Revenge by authors_sort Read Free Book Online

I remembered to put the car in park so it wouldn’t roll back down the hill. Opening the door, crossing the yard, trudging up the steps that led to the porch that wrapped around the house—all of ittook much more effort than it should have. By the time I raised the cloud-shaped door knocker that was Jo-Jo’s rune, a symbol of her Air elemental magic, I was cold and clammy with sweat and about to pass out. I rapped on the door as hard as I could, then sagged against the house, smearing blood all over the white paint in abstract, snowflake-like patterns.
    I don’t know how long I stood there. Seconds passed, maybe minutes, before I heard heavy footsteps on the other side of the door. Even out here on the porch, I still caught a whiff of her Chantilly perfume. I breathed in the scent, comforted by the sweet smell, because I knew that I’d made it. Jo-Jo would work her Air magic once more and heal me the way she always did whenever I showed up at her house late at night an inch away from death.
    A moment later, the door opened and a woman appeared. Like everyone else in Ashland on this cold, cold night, Jo-Jo had been bundled up and firmly ensconced in bed. A long-sleeved pink flannel housecoat swathed the dwarf’s stocky body from head to toe. Despite the late hour, a string of gravel-size pearls hung around her neck. In Jo-Jo’s mind, nothing proclaimed you to be a true southern lady more than a set of real pearls, and she never went anywhere without hers—not even to bed.
    The dwarf’s bleached blond–white hair had been rolled up tight for the night in pink sponge curlers in a tidy formation that any general would have been proud of. For once, Jo-Jo’s middle-aged face was free of makeup, although the fuchsia polish on her toenails glistened in the semidarkness. The dwarf almost always went barefoot at home, even in the dead of winter.
    Jo-Jo stuck her head outside, a turtle coming out of her warm, comfortable shell, obviously wondering who could be knocking on her door at this hour. Especially since I wasn’t scheduled to be doing anything tonight other than cozying up with my lover, Owen Grayson.
    Jo-Jo’s eyes, which were almost colorless except for the pinprick of black at their center, widened when she spotted me on the porch—along with the blood that had pooled underneath my left leg.
    “Gin?” Jo-Jo asked in a surprised voice. “Is that you?”
    “Who else?” I drawled.
    And then I collapsed at her feet without another word.

I was somewhat aware of Jo-Jo calling out to her sister, Sophia, and the younger dwarf picking me up and carrying me inside into the beauty salon that took up the back half of Jo-Jo’s sprawling house.
    The older dwarf made her living as what she called a “drama mama,” using her elemental magic on all the southern debutantes, trophy wives, and grand old dames who frequented her popular salon. Cuts, perms, dyeing, waxing, exfoliating. If it had something to do with changing or improving someone’s appearance, then the dwarf was an expert on it. And if you really wanted your skin to glow for that special occasion, then you came to Jo-Jo’s for one of her signature Air elemental facials.
    Cherry red salon chairs, beauty magazines stacked three feet high in places, buckets of makeup, every conceivable shade of pink nail polish. All that and more fought for space in the salon, cluttered together in a cozy way.
    Rosco, Jo-Jo’s beloved basset hound, snoozed in his wicker basket in the corner. His brown and black ears twitched once, but he didn’t wake up at the sound of us entering the salon. Not surprising. If there wasn’t food involved or a chance to be petted in the offing, then Rosco wasn’t much interested in things.
    I peered at the familiar furnishings, but everything seemed like it had a thick fog wrapped over it. Still, the blurry sight of the salon and Rosco comforted me, no matter how much my brain was distorting them right now.
    “Put her in the chair,”