His violet eyes flared as bright as a star, and he opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something. Then his face shuttered, the light dimmed, and he dropped my hand.

“Owen?”

He tried to smile, but he couldn’t quite make himself do it. “Take care of yourself, Gin. We’ll talk soon, okay?”

All I could do was nod and watch as he turned and walked away from me.

Chapter 30

30

The Briartop heist dominated the airwaves and newspapers for the next few days. Story after story was written and broadcast about what had happened, about Clementine Barker and her plans, and how a few brave folks had banded together to eventually take down the robbers.

I let Bria and Xavier take all the credit for thwarting the giant and her crew. It was more or less the truth. After all, they were the ones who had saved the hostages. Besides, I had enough enemies already without getting my name splashed all over the newspaper or having some nosy reporter come barging into the Pork Pit trying to get an interview with me. Still, the rumors got out the way they always did, and I heard more than a few whispers about how deadly the Spider’s sting had been to Clementine.

Finn also told me about all the reports he’d heard from his sources, each one more outlandish and ridiculous than the last. So far, my favorite story was the one that claimed I had chopped the giant into little pieces, had stuffed her into a cooler, and was using her remains as bait for fishing in the Aneirin River. Heh. If that didn’t increase the pot in the betting pool on my mortal demise, nothing would.

I didn’t care what people thought or said about me as long as they left me alone, but I knew that I’d just created even more trouble for myself by taking matters into my own hands at the museum. Because in addition to killing Clementine, rumors abounded that I’d also gotten away with a chunk of the art and jewels she’d been trying to steal. It wasn’t true, of course, but that wouldn’t stop some folks from thinking it was. It wouldn’t be long before some idiot decided to try to steal stolen art that I didn’t even have.

The truth was that I had only two things left from that night: my memories and the ebony tube that contained Mab Monroe’s last will and testament.

In fact, the tube was standing on the porch railing in front of me right now. The evening sun hit the sunburst rune on the side, making the gold gleam and the ruby burn with an inner fire.