Page 77 of Deadly Sting (Elemental Assassin 8)

"Why you wanted Mab's will so badly," I replied. "I must say I'm a little shocked that she didn't leave you a little something-something for all your years of loyal service. But you aren't mentioned in the will at all. She didn't leave you a nickel's worth of anything. No cash, no land, no personal property. Not even so much as a silverstone pen or a cheap gold watch. No wonder you were so pissed. "

McAllister stared at the tube, his cold, furious gaze locked onto the sunburst rune. "You have no idea what it was like working for her. Being at her beck and call night and day for years - years. Constantly knowing that one wrong word, one wrong move, and she'd kill me with her Fire magic right where I stood with no warning and no sympathy. Mab wasn't even particularly clever. She was just strong. All that power, all that magic, all that money. She could have done so much with it. But she never could think big enough. "

I'd thought Mab had dreamed plenty big, since she'd practically run Ashland, but I didn't contradict McAllister. Even he had a right to rant here at the end.

"But you know what the really ironic thing is? Mab actually had me draw up that will. I guess she thought she'd be around a lot longer than I would. Elementals. " He snorted. "They all think that they're so much better than the rest of us. So much stronger, so much more powerful. But they die just like everyone else does. "

He let out a dark laugh. "You definitely proved that to Mab. "

I shrugged.

He raised his brandy glass to me. "I should thank you for that. For killing that bitch. For finally freeing me from her. I would have been content to do just that. Live and let live, if you will - if you hadn't killed my son. "

McAllister moved to the end of the bar, reached down, and picked up a photo from a nearby table. A younger, larger, beefier version of himself stared out from beneath the glass - his son, Jake. McAllister stared at the photo a moment before setting it back down on the table. He nudged it with his index finger, making sure it was in exactly the same spot as before.

"Admittedly, Jake was an idiot and a colossal screwup. He wasn't worth all of the money I wasted bailing him out of one scrape after another over the years. But nobody fucks with a McAllister - not even you. "

I tipped my head, telling him that I understood his sentiment. You didn't have anything, you weren't worth anything, if you couldn't protect your friends and family. But if you did fail them, the only thing left to do was get retribution. And in a place like Ashland, that was only paid out in one way: in blood.

"I have to admit that I was still a bit confused after I found the will," I said. "I wondered who would hire Clementine to steal it. At first, I thought that maybe it was the mysterious M. M. Monroe who was mentioned in it, but then I realized that he or she had no reason to swipe the will, since Mab had left everything to him or her already. That led me back to you, Jonah. Although I wondered at the show you had Clementine put on. Why not quietly break into the vault after hours and steal the will? But then I remembered something Finn had said about the will being made public during the gala. You had to get the will before that happened, but you didn't want anyone to know what you were really after. The heist was the perfect cover for that. I imagine part of it was also payback. "

"You're damn right it was payback," McAllister muttered. "Ever since Mab's death, everyone in the underworld's been thumbing their noses at me. Well, they weren't laughing at the museum, were they?"

"No. Nobody was laughing. "

McAllister brooded into his brandy for a few seconds before raising his head to me again. "So tell me the rest of it. Why do you think I wanted the will?"

"Oh, the answer to that is simple: because you've been embezzling money from Mab for years. "

He froze, shocked that his dirty little secret was finally out in the open after being buried for so long. For a moment, panic flared in his eyes, and his gaze flicked toward the doorway as if he expected Mab to storm inside and roast him on the spot for his betrayal. After a moment, he seemed to snap back to reality, because he laughed again, the sound even darker and harsher than before. But there was another emotion mixed in with all of the ugliness: relief. I wondered if it was because Mab was dead and couldn't hurt him or that he could finally share his secret with someone - even if that someone was me.

When his laughter finally faded away, I continued with my story.

"You see, when I started putting it all together, it only made sense that you would steal the will. You were Mab's lawyer, so of course you drew up it for her. That also meant that you knew exactly what was in it," I said. "So after I read it, I figured there was something you didn't want M. M. Monroe to find out about Mab's estate - something you'd done. Embezzlement seemed like just the sort of thing you'd want to cover up, so I had Finn do some checking. He said you hid your tracks very well but not quite well enough. Exactly how much have you skimmed from Mab over the years?"

He sighed. "Close to thirty million. With my investments, I've grown it into more than fifty. And it wasn't easy - it was the hardest thing I've ever done. That woman watched her money like a hawk, wanting to know where every little penny went. She had hundreds of millions at her disposal, and I still had to send her receipts for every dime I spent. Miserly bitch. "

I wanted to point out that Mab had had good reason to be suspicious, given how much he'd swindled from her, but I graciously kept that thought to myself.

And now came the final question I had, the one thing that I most wanted an answer to. But I kept my voice light and casual. No sense in tipping him off about how important it was to me. It would be just like the lawyer to pick up on that and decide to mess with me, especially since he thought he had nothing to lose now.

"So who is the mysterious M. M. Monroe?" I asked. "The one you've gone to so much trouble to avoid. "

For several seconds, the only sound was the tick-tick-tick of the grandfather clock. McAllister stared into the amber depths of his brandy. Brooding again. Just when I was about to ask the question a little more forcefully, he frowned and finally raised his eyes to mine.

"That's the problem," he grumbled. "I don't actually know. Mab kept whoever it is a secret even from me. "

I watched him, studying his body language and listening to the tone and inflection of his words, but McAllister seemed to be telling the truth. His voice would have been sly instead of shaky, his eyes bright instead of dark, his posture confident instead of defeated, if he'd been lying. He really didn't know who Mab had left her millions to. Troubling, to say the least.

"But now you know why I had to act," he said. "Because if this person is anything like Mab, well, things will not go so well for me. "

"No," I said. "I imagine the theft of millions of dollars would greatly upset anyone who came to Ashland looking to lay claim to his or her inheritance. "

He sniffed. "Theft? Please. It wasn't like Mab didn't owe me that money anyway, given the pittance she paid me. Not as hard as I worked for her. Not after all the things I did for her. Not after all the things she made me watch her do. " He shuddered at that last thought and the memories that came with it.

I didn't feel sorry for McAllister - not one little bit. Yes, he had worked for a monster, had seen Mab do terrible things, and had been afraid that she might take her fiery wrath out on him at any moment. But like he'd said, he'd also done terrible things himself along the way. Besides, he could have always walked - or run - away. Left Mab, left town, gone someplace where nobody knew who he was or what he'd done. But instead, he'd stayed in Ashland all these years, enjoying all the bloody benefits of being Mab's lackey. McAllister wasn't upset that I'd killed the Fire elemental. He'd had no real affection for or loyalty to her. No, he was just pissed that people didn't kowtow and cower when he walked by these days.

McAllister didn't like the fact that no one was afraid of him like they had been of her.

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