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old, sonorous, slightly pretentious sound that was decidedly at odds with the sinister shadows that
blackened most of the quad. No one else was within sight. Which is probably why the bastards decided
to jump me here. Well, that and the fact that kidnapping me would be such a fuckingbother .
One second I had my face buried in a tissue blowing my sore, drippy nose for the hundredth time today.
The next, I looked up to find myself surrounded by three giants.
Oh, fuck.
I stopped, and they immediately closed ranks, forming a loose triangle of trouble around me. The giants
were all around seven feet tall, with oversize, buglike eyes and fists almost as big as my head. One of
them grinned at me and cracked his knuckles. Someone was anxious to get down to the business of
beating the shit out of me.
My gray eyes flicked to the leader of the group, who had taken up a position in front of me Elliot
Slater.
Slater was the tallest of the three giants, his seven foot figure making even his flunkies seem petite in
comparison.
He was almost as wide as he was tall, with a solid, muscled frame. Granite would be easier to break
than his ribs. Slater s complexion was pale, bordering on albino, and almost seemed to glow in the faint
light. His hazel eyes provided a bit of color in his chalky skin, although his thin, tousled thatch of blond
hair did little to cover his large skull. A diamond in his pinkie ring sparked like a star in the dark night.
Up until my retirement a few months ago, I d moonlighted as an assassin known as the Spider. Over the
past seventeen years, I d had plenty of dealings in the shady side of life, so I knew Slater by sight and
reputation. On paper, Elliot Slater was a highly respected security consultant with his own platoon of
giant bodyguards. In reality, Slater was the number-one enforcer for Mab Monroe, the Fire elemental
who ran the Southern metropolis of Ashland like it was her own personal fiefdom. Slater stepped in and
either cut off, took care of, or permanently disposed of any pesky problems Mab didn t feel like dealing
with herself.
And tonight, it looked like that problem was me.
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Not surprising. A couple of weeks ago, I d stiffed someone during a party at Mab Monroe s mansion.
Needless to say, the Fire elemental hadn t been too thrilled about one of her guests being murdered in
her own home when she d been entertaining five hundred of her closest business associates. I d gotten
away with it so far, but I knew Mab was doing everything in her power to find the killer.
To findme .
I sniffled into my tissue. I wondered if Mab had figured out who I really was. If that was why Slater was
here tonight
Elliot Slater looked over his broad shoulder.  Is this her?
Slater slid to one side so another man, a much shorter human, could join the circle of giants surrounding
me.
Underneath his classic trench coat, the man wore a perfect black suit, and his polished wingtips gleamed
like wet ink in the semidarkness. His thick mane of gunmetal gray hair resembled a heavy mantle of silver
that had somehow been swirled and sculpted around his head. Too bad hate made his brown eyes look
like congealed lumps of blood in his smooth, tight face.
I recognized him too. Jonah McAllister. On paper, McAllister was the city s top lawyer, a charming,
bellicose defense attorney capable of getting the most vicious killer off scot-free for the right price. In
reality, the slick lawyer was another one of Mab Monroe s top goons, just like Elliot Slater was. Jonah
McAllister was Mab s personal lawyer, responsible for burying her enemies in legal red tape instead of in
the ground like Slater did.
McAllister s son, Jake, was the one I d killed at Mab s party. The beefy frat boy had threatened to rape
and murder me, among other things. I d considered it pest extermination more than anything else.
Elliot Slater and Jonah McAllister tag-teaming me.
This night just kept getting better and better. I sniffled again. Really should have stayed home in bed.
Jonah McAllister regarded me with cold eyes.  Oh, yes. That s her. The lovely Ms. Gin Blanco. The
bitch who was giving my boy a hard time.
A hard time? I supposed so, if you thought turning him into the cops for attempted robbery, breaking a
plate full of food in his face, and ultimately stabbing Jake McAllister to death was a hard time. But I
noticed that Jonah McAllister didn t say anything about me actuallykilling his son. Hmm. Looked like
this was some sort of fishing expedition. I decided to play along for now.
 What is this meeting all about? My voice came out somewhere between a whiny wheeze and a
phlegmy rasp.
 Are you taking up Jake s bad habit of assaulting innocent people?
Jonah McAllister s face hardened at my insult. As much as it could, anyway. Despite his sixty-some
years, McAllister s features were as smooth as polished marble, thanks to a vigorous regimen of
expensive Air elemental facial treatments.  I would hardly consider you innocent, Ms. Blanco. And
you re the one who assaulted my precious boy first.
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