“It’s nearly five o’clock,” Oliver said, his voice muffled by the window glass. “We’re running out of time, Michael. Either invite me in and give me the book, or I’m afraid this is going to get unpleasant.”

“Wait!” Claire balled her hands into fists. “I want to trade for it!”

His eyes weighed her, and dismissed her. “I’m very sorry, my dear, but that opportunity has come and gone. We’re in much rougher waters now. Either hand over the book, or we’ll come in and get it. I promise you, this is the best deal you’re likely to get this side of hell.”

Michael yanked down the shade. “Shane. You, Eve, and Claire get into the pantry room. Move it.”

“No way!” Eve declared. “I’m not leaving you!”

He took her hand and locked eyes with her, in a way that made Claire’s knees go weak even at several feet away. “They can’t hurt me, except by hurting the house itself. They can’t kill me, except by destroying the house. Understand? You guys are the vulnerable ones. And I want you safe.”

He kissed her hand, darted a self-conscious look at Claire and Shane, and then kissed her lips, too.

“Huh,” Shane said. “Thought so.” He took Claire’s hand. “Michael’s right. Better get you girls someplace safe.”

“You, too, Shane,” said Michael.

“No way!”

“Not the time to be proving anything, dude. Just take care of them. I can take care of myself.”

Maybe, Claire thought. And maybe he just wanted them out of the way in case he couldn’t.

Either way, she didn’t have a chance to protest. Shane steered her and Eve into the kitchen, loaded them down with water and prepackaged food like Pop-Tarts and energy bars, and helped them stack things in the dark, gloomy hiding place where Claire had spent her first morning in the Glass House.

She didn’t know if Shane really might have followed Michael’s orders—it was possible, she guessed—but just as they were pushing the last of the supplies into the narrow little doorway, there was a loud crashing of glass from the living room.

“What the hell?” Shane blurted, and ducked out to see what was going on. Claire went after him, and when she looked back, Eve was following, too.

But they didn’t get very far, because the kitchen window smashed into splinters, and Claire and Eve stopped and turned to look.

Oliver was standing just outside the window. They heard more glass breaking, all over the house.

“Girls,” he said. “I’m sorry to do this. Truly I am. But you’re not giving me much choice. Last chance. Invite me in, and this can end peacefully.”

“Bite me!” Eve taunted. “Oh, wait…you can’t, can you? Not from way out there!”

His eyes flared, and his fangs snapped down. Threat display. That was what it was called when a rattlesnake shook its tail, or a cobra spread its hood. He was giving them a clear sign that he didn’t find them very funny.