Free Elemental Assassin 02 - Web of Lies by Jennifer Estep

cool magic spread out over my skin. It took less than a second for the magic to harden my fingers, torso, toes, and everything in between, to turn my body into a rock-hard shell. As long as I held onto my magic, kept concentrating on it, even my hair would stop a bullet.
    Then I yanked open the door and stepped outside.
    I stood by the front door a few seconds, my eyes scanning the block again. Nothing. No runners, no parked cars, no flash of light from a rifle scope in the window across the street.
    After another thirty seconds, when no more bullets zipped through the air, the people who’d been on the street when the shooting started slowly raised their heads.
    One by one, they eased out from behind the parked cars and metal mailboxes that they’d ducked behind, got to their feet, and hurried on about their business.
    Since the gunman hadn’t taken the easy shot I’d offered him, I marched across the street to the apartment building, an older structure with small, dingy windows and chipped façade that hadn’t been upgraded or renovated since it had been built forty years ago. I pressed my hand against the stone that framed the entrance, listening to the murmur of the cold, wet brick underneath my bare fingers. A mishmash of emotions greeted me. Childish shrieks of glee. Older, adult grumbles. Sharp, worried murmurs. A babble of English and Spanish. It all added up to the noises of a typical apartment building. Nothing unusual so far.
    Older buildings often lacked good security features, and this one was no different. There wasn’t even a lock on the glass door to keep out the homeless stragglers. The door led to a small hallway with stairs branching off either side, and an elevator lying at the end. I headed up the west stairs, staying to the shadows. The building smelled like bleach mixed with garlic and urine.
    I reached the second-floor landing and another empty hallway. The walk across the street and up the stairs had cooled my anger. My skin might be as hard as stone, but all it took was one moment, one waver, one second I let my magic slip to get dead. Fletcher Lane had drilled that into me. Jake McAllister might be a punk, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t get lucky and kill me. I wasn’t going to give him that chance, so I paused to listen and evaluate.
    Muted quiet. Most of the building’s tenants were out working at their day jobs, trying to come up with enough cash for next month’s rent. My fingers tightened around the knives in my hands, and I crept forward. Since he hadn’t taken a shot at me when I’d crossed the street, there was a very slim chance Jake McAllister was still in the apartment. But I continued to move cautiously, quietly.
    Three apartments on this floor faced the street. I tiptoed past the first two doors to the third one—the one I wanted.
    I paused in front of the beige-painted door, waiting and listening. More silence. I put my hand on the stone that framed the door, but its murmur was low and muted.
    Nobody lived here, judging from the lack of emotions and vibrations, which was probably why Jake McAllister had picked this apartment to fire from.
    I closed my hand around the knob. The cold metal tickled the spider rune scar on my palm. The knob turned, and the door opened.
    I nudged the door inward with my boot, careful to stay to one side of the door frame. It didn’t even creak as it swung open. I stayed in the hall and waited, counting off the seconds in my head. Ten… twenty… thirty… Noises from the other apartments farther down the hall leaked out to me. A television blaring out some children’s cartoon. Another one tuned to a soap opera. A couple arguing about Ralph drinking too much and getting fired from his latest job.
    I stayed outside three minutes. Empty. The apartment was empty. If Jake McAllister had been inside to see or hear the door open, he would have come out to investigate by now. Most people weren’t good at waiting. They moved too soon, too