Finally we reached the top of the hill. Grimshaw instructed the driver to pull over alongside a tall cement wall that surrounded a gigantic property. There were hundreds like these all over the Hollywood Hills; huge sprawling mansions owned by actors, directors, producers, and other people with way too much cash.

“Where’s the gate?” I asked.

“We will enter over the wall,” Grimshaw said and then turned to Lon standing by the car. “I have no further need of your services. Thank you very much.”

Lon clicked his heels and marched back to the driver’s side. I watched him as he looked at us one last time, and then drove off, further up the hill. I assumed the road circled the top, then went down the other side. That’s the way most of the hills were laid out.

Grimshaw waited for me by the wall.

I surveyed it and knew I wasn’t going to be able to climb it, even with a boost. Along the top there were shards of glass embedded in the plaster, so even if I could climb fifteen feet up, I’d get shredded. But Paul already had it figured. He transformed his legs and arms and came at me. I didn’t even have a chance to resist. Grimshaw grabbed me, tucked me under his arm, and jumped the wall.

We landed hard on the other side. I shoved Grimshaw away. I didn’t like the feel of his paws on me. We were in a yard. Ahead was a huge Spanish-style mansion. It was pitch dark.

Grimshaw, now transformed back to all human, walked toward the house. “Are you armed, Mr. McDonald?”

“Always.”

“I wouldn’t think there would be reason for any violence, but I want to be sure you come out of this safely.”

I didn’t respond. What a strange fucking thing to say. I had the feeling he was half talking about outside threats, but mostly he was referring to himself. In an odd way, by asking earlier and now this, Grimshaw had given me permission to kill him.

I didn’t give a shit one way or the other. I had entered that hour-since-my-last-drink stage. The painkillers I took had absolutely failed. I was getting edgy, and I didn’t like being led around like some kind of rented mule. Buddy time was over. I wanted some action or I wanted to get back to my place, call Sabrina, and get some fucking drugs into my system.

Grimshaw led me up to the back of the house. His manner was pretty casual for breaking and entering. He either knew the place or knew what was inside.

I was sick of being out of the loop. I stopped. “How about you tell me where we are and why we’re here.”

Grimshaw cocked his head. “The lair of the beast.”

“Seriously,” I shot back. “Whose house is this?”