It took him longer than I thought it would to go through his routines and make his way to the office, but I’m nothing if not patient, and he got here eventually. One light turned on in the hallway, perfectly outlining his trim silhouette. If I’d bothered to bring a gun, I could have easily put three bullets in his chest from here. But that would have been a waste of lead. Besides, I needed to talk to him first.

He stepped into the office and started to walk over to the light switch on the wall, but I picked up the remote I’d found earlier and hit a button.

The crystal chandelier above my head blazed with light. A startled gasp escaped his lips, and he whirled around. His eyes widened when he realized there was someone in his house—and that someone was me. His mouth dropped open, although the rest of his tight features remained where they were, like usual.

“Hello, Jonah,” I said.

Chapter 31

31

Jonah McAllister blinked and blinked, as if he couldn’t quite believe that I was sitting in his office—in his own chair, no less.

I gave him a lazy grin, tilted back the chair, and propped my boots up on top of the desk. My shoes were not particularly clean, and McAllister’s left eye twitched with fury as he realized that I was mucking up his pristine workspace. I crossed one leg on top of the other and leaned back a little farther, getting even more comfortable in his chair.

“What are you doing in my house?” he finally demanded.

“What?” I asked. “No ‘Hello, Ms. Blanco’? No, ‘You’re looking well this evening’? Why, Jonah, wherever are your manners? I bet you were never this rude to Mab.”

The lawyer’s eye twitched again, but he stayed by the wall. I could almost see the wheels turning in his mind as he debated making a break for the door. Couldn’t blame him for that. Late-night visits from the Spider tended to involve only one thing: blood, and a lot of it.

“Don’t bother,” I said. “You locked the front door behind you, remember? And I have no doubt that I can run faster than you.”

He stared at me for several moments. Thinking.

“You’re right. But since we both know that you’re going to kill me, will you at least allow the condemned man one last drink?”

I gestured at the wet bar. “Be my guest.”

McAllister moved behind the bar, his body stiff with tension, but he kept sneaking glances at me, wondering how he could get the upper hand and get out of this alive. Fool. He should have known by now it was far, far too late for that.