I had to grind my teeth to keep from leaping up out of the chair, shoving my knife up against his throat, and screaming at him to give me some answers. It took me a moment to unclench my jaw.

   “Okay, say that I actually believe that you’ve never heard of the Circle. What about Hugh Tucker?” I asked, trying a different avenue. “Vampire, black hair, goatee, really fast. Tends to blend into the background most of the time.”

   McAllister chewed on his lower lip. “Hugh Tucker, Hugh Tucker. Why do I know that name . . .” He snapped his fingers. “Tucker. I remember him. Mab used to go out with him from time to time. Smug, smarmy bastard. I never did understand what she saw in him.”

   That was Tucker all right. My eyes narrowed. “What do you mean go out with him? Were the two of them . . . involved?”

   He shrugged. “As involved as Mab ever got with any of her one-night stands. Tucker was the only one that she ever had back for seconds and thirds, though. She told me once that the two of them were old friends, that she’d known him ever since she was a kid, and that they’d grown up together. That was one of the reasons why he stuck out to me.”

   “And why is that?”

   McAllister gave me a look like the answer should have been obvious. “Because most of the people that Mab knew for any length of time wound up dead, usually by her hand.”

   Well, that was certainly true. Mab had never been shy about roasting people with her Fire magic for the slightest infraction. Still, I kept quiet, waiting for him to continue, but the lawyer stared back at me with a puzzled expression, obviously not understanding my sudden interest in one of Mab’s old lovers.

   “That’s it?” Phillip growled. “That’s all you know about the Circle?”

   “I told you already. I don’t know anything about any stupid Circle—” McAllister stopped and tilted his head to the side, studying me with new interest. “This is really important to you, isn’t it, Blanco? This Circle . . . they’ve really pissed you off.”

   “You might say that.”

   I kept my face blank, but McAllister smelled blood in the water, and like any shark he went straight to it.

   He smiled, the sinister expression creating deep lines at the corners of his eyes. For the first time, well, ever, he seemed genuinely happy to be in my presence. “Now that I think about it, I might know more about Hugh Tucker after all, along with this Circle that he belongs to.”

   “But?”

   “But, as you know, I’ve been under a lot of stress these past several months, preparing for my upcoming murder trial. My memory’s not what it used to be.”

   Liar. His memory was probably better than mine, but I recognized the negotiating tactic for what it was. I sighed. “What do you want, Jonah?”

   “I want out.”

   “Out of what?”

   “Out of Ashland, out of my trial, out of this damn prison you’ve stuffed me in,” he growled. “I want to start over somewhere that no one knows me. I don’t even care where at this point. I just want out of here.” His gaze darted around the office, and his mouth twisted with disgust before he focused on me again. “You make that happen, and I’ll tell you everything I know about Hugh Tucker and the Circle.”

   He sat back against the couch and crossed his arms over his chest, giving me a smug, toothy smile, absolutely sure that I would give in to his demands.

   For a moment, I was tempted—so damn tempted. Because the Circle already knew every single thing about me, and I was scrambling to play catch-up. I didn’t even know who any of them were, besides Tucker, and my friends and I hadn’t been able to find a trace of the vampire since the night that Deirdre Shaw had died. If I could at least identify the members of the Circle, then I could study them—kill them—before they lashed out at me again or, worse, my friends.

   And I could finally get the answers to all my questions about my mother.

   I opened my mouth, ready to give in to McAllister’s ridiculous demands, but then I glanced over at Phillip, who was still standing by the patio doors, his gun clutched in his hand, keeping watch. And I remembered how pale he’d looked, lying on the marble floor at the Briartop museum, slowly bleeding out after being shot by one of the giants that McAllister had hired to rob the museum and steal Mab’s will from the vault. I remembered how much pain Phillip had been in. I remembered how Eva had cried over him and how worried Owen had been about his best friend.

   And just like that, I shut my mouth. Nobody fucked with my friends and got a free pass, not even to satisfy my burning curiosity about my mother and the Circle. I might be an assassin, but there were some lines that I wouldn’t cross.

   Besides, Jonah McAllister was not the least bit trustworthy. As badly as I’d screwed him over by revealing his involvement in the Briartop heist to all of Ashland, I had no doubt that he would be more than happy to feed me a passel of lies and scamper out of town, secretly laughing at me the whole time. Even if I threatened him, even if I tortured him, even if I cut him to ribbons with my knives, he was stubborn enough and hated me enough to hold out and not tell me a damn thing.

   No, I couldn’t risk him lying, spinning some story, and sending me on some wild-goose chase. I wouldn’t risk it. And I especially wouldn’t insult Phillip and his suffering like that.

   “Well, Blanco?” McAllister crowed, still so confident that I was going to give in to his demands. “What do you say?”

   I shook my head. “Never going to happen, Jonah. Never going to happen.” I got to my feet and headed toward the patio doors. “Come on, Phillip. Let’s go. We’ve wasted enough time here.”

   Phillip followed me, although we hadn’t taken three steps out onto the lawn before McAllister hurried after us.

   “Wait! Wait!” he called out, scrambling to catch up to us.

   I whipped around and snapped up my knife, and McAllister had to pull up short to keep from ramming reindeer-first into the blade.