"Yes, ma'am," the security guard replied. "I was making my usual rounds and called you guys right away."

Well, now that I had a proper audience, it was time for Gin Blanco to come back from the dead, so to speak. I pulled in a breath and rolled over onto my back. The dull wave of pain I'd been surfing on surged into a tidal wave that threatened to drown me. A low groan escaped my lips, and white starbursts filled my vision again.

Silence.

"You idiot! She's not dead. Didn't you check her pulse before you called us?" the woman snapped. "Call the paramedics, Xavier. Right now before she bleeds out."

Xavier? I knew him. He was the giant who worked as a bouncer at a nightclub called Northern Aggression. Xavier also moonlighted for the Ashland police force on occasion. He wasn't what I would call a close friend, but he'd probably help me if I asked him nicely enough. And slipped him some money later. C-notes would buy you all the friends you wanted in Ashland.

When I'd pushed the pain back down to a bearable level, I opened my eyes. The swirling police lights on the SUV made it hard to see the three figures, but I still recognized the giant. At around seven feet tall, Xavier was hard to miss with his shaved head and jet-colored skin and eyes.

"Xavier?" I mumbled, trying to move my broken jaw as little as possible.

More silence.

Then the three figures turned to stare at me once more. Probably shocked I could form a coherent sentence, much less actually speak, given the way my face looked right now.

"Do you know her, Xavier?" the woman asked.

A large knee flattened the grass beside me, and a shadow fell over my face, blocking the bright lights. I stared up into Xavier's dark eyes. The giant's gaze flicked over my features, trying to see through the blood, bruises, and swelling. Finally, comprehension filled his face.

"Gin?" he asked.

"In the flesh," I mumbled.

"Do you know her?" the woman asked again.

Xavier nodded his massive head. "Yeah, I know her. Name's Gin Blanco. She owns the Pork Pit. It's a barbecue restaurant a few blocks away. Geez, Gin, they really did a number on you, didn't they?"

"You're talking to her like she can actually understand you," the woman said somewhere above my head.

"That's because she can, detective," Xavier replied. "Gin's the toughest gal I know. Takes a licking and keeps on ticking, just like a Timex. Isn't that right, Gin?"

"Right," I croaked. "Now, do me a favor."

"Name it."

"Call Finn."

Xavier nodded, pulled his cell phone off the holder on his belt, and flipped open the device. "What's his number?"

I forced out the numbers, which Xavier punched into his phone.

A few seconds later, the giant smiled. "My man, Finn. It's Xavier. Listen, I need to talk to you about Gin..."

I let myself drift as Xavier explained the situation to Finnegan Lane. After a brief conversation, Xavier snapped his phone shut.

"The man's on his way. Should be here in about five minutes. He said to tell you that he's calling Jo-Jo right now, whatever that means."

I nodded. Jo-Jo was Jo-Jo Deveraux, the dwarven Air elemental who always healed me whenever I got into a rough scrape. Like the one tonight.

"Good," I croaked. "Now, help me sit up. Please."

"You really shouldn't move her-" the female detective started.

Too late. I wrapped my hand around Xavier's massive forearm, and the giant eased me up into a sitting position. It took me several moments to get my breath back and blink the white spots out of my vision. Once I did, I realized I was the center of attention. While I'd been unconscious, someone had strung yellow crime scene tape around the spot where I'd been lying. A small crowd of late-night students had gathered around the tape like vultures flocking to a fresh corpse. Several of them had their cell phones out, snapping pictures of my battered face to post on the local campus gossip websites.

I squinted against the glare, trying to see if I recognized anyone. I spotted a couple of other coeds from my classic literature class, but that was it. Hardly worth the effort of sitting up. The pain washed over me again, and I would have toppled over from the force of it if Xavier hadn't been propping me up. Right now, all I wanted to do was lie on a soft mattress somewhere, whimper, and plot my revenge against Mab Monroe, Elliot Slater, and most especially Jonah McAllister. Because the three of them were going to die. By my hand. Sooner, rather than later.

"Xavier, put her back down," the female detective snapped. "She needs medical attention. Immediately."

My eyes flicked up, but all I could see of the cop was her navy coat, the longish shag of her blond hair, and the three small rings she wore on her left index finger, which tapped out a quick pattern on her thigh. I would have tilted my head up so I could get a look at her face, if I hadn't thought the movement would make me vomit blood all over the detective's boots. Still, despite my limited view, something about the woman seemed familiar. Strangely so. Then again, the way my eyes were ping-ponging back and forth in their sockets, anything that didn't spin around felt familiar.

"You want her to asphyxiate on her own blood? Trust me. She needs to sit up," Xavier replied. "Besides, her friend will be here in a few minutes. Gin can hold her own until then. Can't you, Gin?"

"Oh yeah," I mumbled. "This is nothing. You should see me on a bad day."

The detective snorted. "Snappy comeback for a woman covered in her own blood."

"Oh, that's me," I said, staring at her jeans. "Snappy to the bitter, bitter end."

Against my side, I felt Xavier's wide chest quiver with contained laughter. At least I was amusing someone tonight.

The detective hitched up her jeans and crouched down in front of me, so we were eye level with each other. I blinked away another round of white starbursts and got my first good look at her.

And my heart stopped.

Longish, wavy, honey blond hair that curled under at the ends. Cornflower blue eyes. Perfect, rosy skin. A full, lush mouth. The detective was a breathtaking woman. But her beauty wasn't what made my raspy breath catch in my throat and my heart twist in my bruised chest. It was what was on the silver chain she wore around her neck.

A primrose.

A small silverstone rune shaped like a delicate primrose rested in the hollow of the detective's smooth throat. A primrose. The symbol for beauty. The same rune, the same necklace my baby sister, Bria, had worn as a child.

Bria.

She looked exactly the same as she did in a photo I had of her and exactly like my memories of our mother, Eira Snow. The only real differences were the hard glint in Bria's blue eyes and her tight, remote features. Both were more pronounced in person than they'd been in the picture. Bria's beauty was a cold, guarded one. An elemental Ice queen come to life in every sense of the word.

For a moment, I wondered if I was losing my mind. If I was already dead, and this was just some sort of bizarre dream or final wish fulfillment before the powers that be shipped me off to Hades. A brief, tantalizing glimpse of what I wanted to see most, only to be taken away as quickly as it had appeared.

I drew in a ragged breath and had to spit out another mouthful of warm, slick, coppery blood before it choked me. No, not a dream. A dream wouldn't hurt this much.

Bria, my baby sister, the one I'd thought was dead for the past seventeen years, the one I'd thought I'd inadvertently killed with my Ice and Stone magic, was here, crouching right in front of me. And all I could do was just stare at her.

Bria's blue eyes met mine. She frowned, as though puzzled by the wonderment in my gaze. "Ma'am, I understand you have a friend on the way. Personally, I'd suggest you wait for the paramedics to get here. You've got some serious, nasty injuries. You need to be stabilized before you go anywhere."

I kept staring at her. A pressure gathered in my chest, an icy fist squeezing my heart so tight and hard I thought it would explode right then and there. Shatter into a million icicles that would impale what was left of my body. An odd, cold wetness ran down my face. Tears this time, instead of blood. Big, fat, salty tears.

Crying. I was crying. I hadn't expected to cry when I saw Bria again. Hadn't expected to feel this icy tightness, this cavernous ache, this intense longing that made me want to scream and wail and weep all at the same time.

"Ma'am?" Bria asked again. "Can you hear me?"

I snapped out of my daze. Now was not the time to be thunderstruck. Now was the time to think, to piece the facts together. Bria was here in Ashland. A detective working for the po-po. I was in no position to talk to her tonight, in no position to do anything but gawk at her. But underneath the blood and bruises, I was still Gin Blanco. Restaurant owner. Stone and Ice elemental. Former assassin. And all-around badass. I could track down my sister easily enough when I was well. When I'd had some time to process her sudden reappearance in my life-and figure out what I was going to do about it.

I wet my split lips to say something, anything, to her. Anything to keep her right where she was-

"Gin! Gin!"

A male voice shouted my name. A moment later, Finnegan Lane stepped underneath the yellow crime scene tape and hurried over to me. Finn wore his usual uniform of a perfectly fitted, impeccable suit. A navy one today, with a powder blue shirt underneath. Even in the semidarkness, the light color further brightened his green eyes, which always reminded me of the smooth, polished glass of a soda pop bottle. His walnut-colored hair just curled over the collar of his suit jacket in an artful array of thick, sexy locks.

In addition to being my best friend, Finn was the son of my mentor, Fletcher Lane, the old man who'd taken me in off the streets years ago. An assassin himself, Fletcher had taught me everything I knew about my former profession. Finn was like a brother to me and one of the few people I trusted since the old man's murder a couple of months ago. Even though I'd retired from being the assassin the Spider, Finn was also my handler now, for lack of a better word. I might not be dealing in the shady side of life anymore, but Finn kept me informed of any goings-on that might impact me-as well as his own lucrative schemes in the corporate world of investment banking that he inhabited.

Finnegan Lane squatted down beside me and stared into my face. His green eyes swept over my bloody features, analyzing and assessing the damage just like his father, Fletcher, would have done once upon a time.

"Geez," Finn said. "I thought you looked bad yesterday. You look like shit tonight."

"Great to see you too, Finn," I replied in a dry tone. "Yesterday I just had the flu. As you can see, it's turned into something a bit more serious."

"Indeed," Finn murmured. "Indeed. And you can tell me all about it later. Right now, we need to get you out of here. Xavier, if you would be so kind?"

The giant nodded, put his free hand under my legs, and scooped me up into the air the way a child might pick up a wayward puppy. Finn held out his arms, and Xavier passed me over to him. They were being as easy and gentle as they could, but the movements hurt. Pain tightened my chest again, making it hard to breathe. Felt like one of my cracked ribs was scraping against my lungs. More blood also pooled in my mouth, but I swallowed it down. I was in enough agony already. I didn't want to have to listen to Finn bitch about me spewing blood all over his precious suit too. At this point, my ears were just about the only part of me that didn't burn with pain.

Finn turned toward the crime scene tape, but Bria got to her feet and stepped in front of him.

"Hold it," she snapped. "She's not going anywhere. The paramedics aren't here yet, and she needs medical attention."

Finn did what he always did when confronted by an angry woman-he checked out her boobs. His green eyes landed on Bria's breasts, analyzing and assessing them just the way he had my injuries a moment before. His lips curled back into a wolfish grin at the sight. If I'd felt stronger, I would have punched him for ogling my sister.

Once Finn got his fill of Bria's breasts, his green gaze drifted up to her face to check out the rest of the perky package. He'd seen the same photograph of Bria that I had. It took him a second to recognize her, but when he did, Finn's smile cracked, then flaked off his face like old paint. He blinked a couple of times, trying to make sure he was seeing exactly what he thought he was. When he realized that it really was Bria, Finn immediately looked down at me to see if I'd noticed her, if I'd recognized her. I nodded the tiniest bit to him.

"She's not going anywhere. The paramedics aren't here yet," Bria repeated and stabbed her finger into Finn's shoulder for emphasis.

That got Finn's attention. He didn't like anyone messing with his clothes, unless they were female and taking them off him. "I'm taking her to an Air elemental healer, and she's going to get the best medical attention there is in Ashland as soon as I get her out of here," Finn snapped. "Gin is my sister, and she's coming with me. So back off, copper."

Back off, copper? Geez. Finn had been watching too many old crime movies with Sophia Deveraux.

Bria's blue eyes narrowed. "Why don't we leave it up to Gin? See what she wants to do?"

Finn narrowed his own eyes in response. "Fine. She'll tell you herself that she's coming with me, detective."

The two of them glared at each other another moment, before staring at me. Finn, his features pinched tight. Bria, looking just as serious as he did. The man I considered my brother and my long-lost baby sister. Emotions welled up in my chest, making it hard to breathe. Or maybe the sensation was just from all the internal bleeding I was suffering from tonight. Either way, it hurt.