Black Widow Page 36
Still, I kept my face calm as I stared her down. “I might die here tonight, but you’re not going to get off so easy. How are you going to explain this? I doubt that even your pet stool pigeon there can cover up all of this. Especially since I left such a glaring reminder of my presence back at the police station.”
Madeline gave me a thoughtful look, then glanced at Dobson. “You know, Gin, I think you’re right. Best to cut off any loose ends now.”
“Don’t listen to her,” Dobson growled, glaring at me through one of the windows. “I can handle everything, just like I promised, just like I have so far.”
“Sure,” I mocked. “If letting me kill four people, escape police custody, steal a car, and roar out of your own impound yard is your idea of handling things.”
“You fucking bitch!” he yelled.
The giant drew his gun out of his holster and started firing at me.
Crack!
Crack! Crack!
Crack!
But instead of punching through the window and then my skull, the bullets snagged in the thick glass, with spiderweb cracks zigzagging out in all directions from the sharp impacts.
“Bulletproof glass,” I said, leaning to one side of the cracks so that Dobson had a clear view of my smug smile. “A girl’s best friend.”
He growled and started to raise his gun again, but Madeline sidled over to him. “Here,” she said, holding out her hand. “Let me.”
He reluctantly handed over his weapon, and Madeline strode back to the door with its busted-out glass. She raised the gun, aiming it at me through the open space. I tensed, ready to dive out of the way and reach for my Stone magic to harden my body—
But Madeline whipped around and shot Dobson instead.
Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!
Madeline was an excellent marksman, and three holes appeared in his chest, clustered right over his black heart, while the fourth bullet punched through the middle of his throat. Blood bubbled out of his lips, and he choked and choked, as if he could actually cough up the bullet lodged in his neck. Dobson teetered back and forth for a moment, staring at Madeline in disbelief, before dropping to the sidewalk.
I looked past the dead giant, expecting to see the cops leave their vehicles behind and sprint in this direction. But Dobson must have told them that he was taking care of things and to stay back, because the other officers held their positions at the ends of the block, although I could hear their hoarse shouts of Shots fired! Shots fired!
Madeline turned her attention to me again. “You’re right, Gin. Dobson would never be able to explain all of this away. But now I can.”
She stepped forward. I tensed again, wondering if she was going to shoot at me, but she only threw the gun in through the shattered door pane. The weapon tumbled end over end before clattering to a stop at my feet.
“You killed Dobson with his own gun, then holed up in your restaurant. The cops surrounded the place, but tragically, they weren’t able to take you alive.”
“And why is that?” I asked.
Instead of answering me, Madeline crooked her finger at Emery. The giant bent down, and Madeline whispered something into her ear. Emery nodded and stepped out of my line of sight. She reappeared less than a minute later holding a cigarette lighter and a bottle with a fat wad of white cotton stuffed into the top. Emery passed the bottle to Madeline, who turned it around so that I could see the label on the expensive liquor.
The irony almost made me laugh—almost.
“Gin to be the end of Gin. I think it’s rather fitting, don’t you?” Madeline purred. “I had Emery bring this and some other supplies along tonight just in case you survived the bull pen. If you had, I was going to toss this inside the cell and watch you burn. You actually gave me the idea, when you were talking about my mother earlier today and how she would have already dispatched you with her Fire magic. You made an excellent point. I was extremely disappointed that you didn’t die in the bull pen, but this will be so much better. So much more satisfying. After all, my mother extinguished most of the Snow family with her elemental Fire. Rather fitting that I’m going to use a similar flame to finally kill you too. Good-bye, Gin.”
She held out the bottle. Emery flicked on the cigarette lighter, bent down, and lit the cotton rag in the top of the gin. Madeline stared at the red flames, which were the same color as her smiling crimson lips, then tossed the Molotov cocktail in through the shattered door.
The bottle of gin exploded against the floor.
* * *
I’d backed out of the way of the bottle and the flames that spewed out from the shattered glass, but a few seconds later another Molotov cocktail sailed in through the open door, this one thrown by Emery, adding more fuel to the fire, so to speak.
I stared at Madeline through the growing flames.
“Cover all the exits,” she told Emery. “Keep her inside. Nobody approaches the building until there’s nothing left but cinders.”
Emery nodded and moved off to do her boss’s bidding. I thought about plowing through the door and taking my chances with Madeline, but she could still kill me with her acid magic. And by this point, the cops had actually started to approach the restaurant, no doubt with even more members of the po-po on the way. I wasn’t getting out of here.
I was going to burn to death inside the Pork Pit.
For a moment, the helplessness, the despair, the absolute certainty of my impending, painful, fire-filled death threatened to overwhelm me. I wobbled on my feet, like Dobson had before he’d dropped to the ground and bled out. But I wasn’t going to have the luxury of a quick death like that. I was going to go up in flames and die screaming, just like Madeline wanted me to—
A small explosion sounded, as the last bit of glass from the first bottle of gin shattered under the growing heat. The flames scorched along the floor, as if they were following the path of the pig tracks back to the restrooms. In an instant, the hungry swath of fire had obliterated the blue and pink marks, the ones I’d walked over a thousand times before.
Cold rage erupted in my heart, icing over my despair. Fletcher had already died in here, been hideously tortured in the very same spot where I was now standing. I hadn’t been able to save him, but I’d be damned if I was going to just lie down and die, especially at the hands of Madeline Magda fucking Monroe.
“Gin! Gin!” Owen screamed in my ear. “What’s happening? We’re almost to the restaurant. Finn and Bria are with me, and Silvio and Xavier are on their way. Just hold on until we get there. Do you hear me? Hold on!”