“And, of course, we know that Bria is drop-dead gorgeous,” Finn said in a dreamy tone. “That picture of her that Dad somehow got his hands on does not do the woman justice.”

Finn was referring to a photograph Fletcher Lane had left for me. It had been in a thick folder, along with all the other information about my mother’s and older sister’s murder at the hands of Mab Monroe. Autopsy photos, police reports, newspaper clippings. Jo-Jo had given me the file after the old man’s death. Bria’s picture—which made me realize she was still alive—had been the only nice thing in the gruesome folder.

I rolled my eyes. “Do me a favor, Finn. Don’t look like that when you talk about my sister.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re thinking about her naked and in your bed.”

Finn grinned. “Would I do something like that?”

“Absolutely.”

“Mmm-hmm.” On my left, Sophia grunted her agreement. That was about as expressive as she ever got. Unlike most folks, the Goth dwarf preferred to communicate in short, monosyllabic bursts.

Finn put his hand over his heart. “Oh, Gin, you wound me with your jaded cynicism.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I said. “My words are like knives. Just let me decide what I want to do about Bria before you start hitting on her, okay?”

Finn gave a reluctant nod of his head. “All right. But figure it out soon. You know I have a thing for hot blondes.”

I snorted. “You have a thing for anyone with breasts.”

We might have kept squabbling, but Jo-Jo cleared her throat. I turned my head to look at the dwarf.

“So what are you going to do about your sister?” the older dwarf asked in a soft voice. “Are you going to tell her who you really are? What you’ve been doing all these years? What your plans are?”

“You mean am I going to tell Bria that I’m her long-lost, big sister, Genevieve Snow? That I was a renowned assassin known as the Spider? Or that Mab Monroe killed our mother and sister and that I’ve sworn to take my revenge on the Fire elemental?” I shook my head. “Call me crazy, but I think that might be a bit much to process all at once.”

Just the thought of telling Bria who I really was made my stomach tighten and the spider rune scars on my palms itch and burn. Even though I didn’t often feel it, I knew what the emotion was. Dread.

“I don’t know. Bria’s your sister, after all. That counts for a lot,” Jo-Jo murmured.