Eva was the first to react, letting out a weak, strangled gasp and clamping her hands over her mouth. The rest of my friends wore similar stunned expressions as they stared down at the body.

I knew what the horrified looks meant: they all thought I was dead.

Chapter 8

8

Eva. Finn. Phillip. Roslyn. Owen. The realization hit all of them at about the same time. One second, they were trying not to look at the body like everyone else. The next, they couldn’t stop staring at it, mouths open, eyes wide, features tight with shock and sorrow.

Roslyn immediately put her arms around Eva and turned the younger woman away from the horrible sight. Eva’s shoulders shook, and a loud sob broke free from her lips before she could swallow it. Phillip turned away too, his lips curled in anger and disgust.

Owen kept staring at the body, his face blank and completely closed off. His eyes were empty, his gaze dull and far away, as if he was so shocked, so stunned, that he wasn’t even really seeing what was in front of him. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. I couldn’t tell what he was feeling. If he was absolutely horrified or just relieved that I was gone. I hoped—I hoped—that he at least cared, that he at least felt something, but I just couldn’t tell what it might be, one way or the other.

And then there was Finn.

He had an entirely different reaction. Instead of shying away from the body, he moved even closer to it, stepping in front of Owen. Finn’s green eyes narrowed, and he slowly, carefully, quietly examined the body from head to toe. His gaze lingered on Jillian’s shoes, which peeked out from beneath the edge of her skirt, before going up to her hands. Finn leaned down, staring at one of Jillian’s palms as though it held all the secrets of the universe.

I knew exactly what he was looking for: my spider rune scar.

When I was younger, the scars had been red, raw, and puckered, but over the years, they had slowly smoothed out and faded to a pale silver, given that they were really silverstone that had been melted into my palms. Everyone in the underworld might think that I was the Spider. They might recognize my rune and the fact that I took my assassin name from it, but none of them knew that the symbol was actually branded into my palms. Only my closest friends and family knew that story, and only they had ever seen the scars. Oh, I didn’t try to hide the marks, not even when I was working at the Pork Pit, but unless you knew they were there, you wouldn’t notice them. Besides, who ever bothered to look at the palms of someone else’s hands?