Shae laughed, but at least she was kind enough not to berate me for my lack of originality.

“You’ll have no trouble getting a signal,” she assured me. “I use my cell in here all the time.”

It was time for me to make up my mind. Was I following Shae into the nether regions of her club, away from all possible witnesses, or would I play it safe, tell her we’d talk some other time, and get the hell out?

Playing it safe has never been one of my fortes, so of course I followed her.

I suppose I’d been expecting something mysteriouslooking based on the key card entry. What I found instead was a hallway that could have been plucked out of any modest-sized office building in the city. On my right, a janitor’s closet. On my left, a supply room. Just past that was Shae’s office. At the very end of the hall, there was an unmarked door with a card reader beside it.

“What’s in there?” I asked Shae as she pushed open her office door and gestured me inside.

“Just more offices,” Shae answered, but I don’t think she expected me to believe her.

What was behind that door was none of my business, I reminded myself. I was here to see what I could find out about Tommy Brewster, not poke my nose into the shadier sides of Shae’s business.

Shae’s office was as striking as Shae herself. The walls were painted black, and the floor was covered with black, industrial-style carpet. Her desk was gleaming black lacquer with silver accents, and her chair was black mesh with silver tubing. On each side of her desk was a shiny metal bookcase, filled with very boring-looking business titles, and the only adornment on the walls were some black and white photographs of cityscapes, each framed in silver.

I found the effect cold and forbidding. But then, it went well with its owner.

Shae gestured me into a guest chair, then took a seat behind her desk and leaned back, crossing her hands behind her head. Her eyes gleamed with interest and speculation as she watched me sit. Under the guise of checking my phone, I opened my purse and made sure I had a clear shot at the Taser. I also armed it and glanced at the battery indicator. It was ready to go, should I need it.

“So,” Shae said, apparently impatient with my dithering, “what can I do for you, Ms. Kingsley?”

I had any number of suggestions, but I didn’t think voicing them would be conducive to a productive discussion. “I was wondering if you could tell me a little bit about Tommy Brewster. I hear he’s a frequent visitor to your club, and I gather that the two of you have some kind of a business relationship.”

Shae blinked at me for a moment, then laughed—a deep, rich laughter that I’m sure many men would find sexy as hell. I merely found it irritating. But then, I’m sure that’s what she intended.

“I see you put as much value in subtlety as I do,” Shae said when she could stop laughing.

I shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. “Subtlety is highly overrated.”

She controlled her laughter, although amusement still tugged at the corners of her mouth. “I couldn’t agree more. So if we’re going to dispense with subtlety, let me ask you what the hell makes you think I’m going to answer any questions about Tommy?”

I considered pulling the Taser to give her some instant motivation. Then I recognized the fundamental problem with that idea. Many demons enjoyed pain, and it seemed likely that a demon who owned a club that catered to the S&M crowd would be one of them. That made threatening her with pain pointless.

“Do you have any personal loyalty to Tommy?” I asked instead.

Shae gave me a droll look. “Honey, do I look like the kind of person who’d have personal loyalty to anyone?”

“Just checking,” I muttered. “If it wouldn’t offend your delicate sensibilities, then, perhaps you and I can reach some kind of arrangement.” She’d played both sides of the fence before. No reason to think she wouldn’t do it again.

I could tell by the sudden glint in her eye that I’d sparked her interest, though her voice remained bland. “What kind of an arrangement did you have in mind?”

I’d never been involved in anything remotely resembling this kind of illicit negotiation, and I realized I didn’t know how to play it. How much should I offer her? I didn’t even know what a ballpark figure might be. When she’d helped me and Adam rescue Brian from Hell, she’d demanded way more money than I could afford, especially while I was still reeling from the financial impact of my house burning down.

When in doubt, lob the ball into the enemy’s court. “How much do you want?” Maybe if I got her to throw out a figure, I could then negotiate her down.

Shae laughed again, and I wished I could stop giving her fodder for amusement. “You don’t have the kind of money it would take to buy me,” she said. “But I’d be willing to consider other forms of payment.”

Remembering the “other form of payment” she’d demanded from Adam and Dominic in the past, I had to fight to suppress a shudder. Fat lot of good that did me, when my face insists on telegraphing everything I’m thinking.

“It all depends on how badly you want the information,” Shae continued. Her eyes traveled up and down the length of my body, and I most definitely did not want to know what she was seeing in her mind’s eye at the moment.

I pushed my chair back. This was a dumb idea. As dumb as coming to the club in search of Tommy Brewster the first time. “Not that badly, I guess. Thanks for the chat,” I said, turning to the door. My hand hovered near the opening of my purse, just in case.

She let me step out into the hallway and close the door about halfway before she stopped me.

“Don’t leave angry,” she said. “I’m sure we can reach some kind of mutually acceptable arrangement.”

I stood in the doorway, hesitating. I had a feeling I was being drawn in like a fish on a hook. But I also had a feeling if I played my cards right, I’d get the information I wanted out of Shae. And really, what girl can’t afford to lose a pound of flesh from somewhere on her body?

“If the arrangement involves me setting foot anywhere near Hell, then no, we can’t.”

Her smile now was almost pleasant. “Honey, I may be mercenary, but I’m not stupid. There’s no point in bargaining for something I know I won’t get. Now, why don’t you shut the door and make yourself comfortable?”

Feeling very much like the fly to her spider, I shut the door. However, I didn’t sit down, and I decided it was time for more blatant self-defense. I drew the Taser out of my bag, but I didn’t point it at her. I tried my own pleasant smile, though I was glad there wasn’t a mirror nearby.

“I think now I’m as comfortable as I’m ever going to be in your presence,” I said. She might not mind the pain of being Tasered, but if I found myself needing to get out quick, I was prepared. Whatever she might think of the pain, the electricity would muck with her control of her host’s body, and she’d be helpless for a good ten to fifteen minutes. If I couldn’t get out in ten minutes, then I was already up shit’s creek.

The drawn weapon didn’t seem to faze Shae. “Suit yourself. You don’t need the Taser. Violence isn’t my style. But I don’t expect you to take my word for that.”

“Good,” I muttered, “because I won’t. Now, if my money’s not good enough to buy information on Brewster, and if you know full well I’m not providing you ‘entertainment,’ then what exactly are you hoping I’ll give you?”

“Information is a very useful currency. For every question I answer about Brewster, I get to ask you a question myself.”

Why was it the idea instantly made all the little hairs on my arms stand on end? How much useful information could I possibly give her? What would I know that she’d care about? Certainly she’d be fascinated to know about Lugh and Raphael, but it wasn’t like I was going to blurt anything out about them.