me to safety. Instead, I closed my eyes, concentrated, and cast the binding spell again. Halfway through the incantation, a chunk of brick hit my arm, and I stumbled backward. More brick rained down, larger pieces now, big enough to hurt. I gritted my teeth, closed my eyes, and cast again.
The pounding stopped. I held the spell for a few seconds before I dared to open my eyes. When I did, I saw Griffin, his fist stopped in midair. He grunted, then snarled, trying to break free, but I put everything I had into holding him still. Our gazes met. His eyes darkened with rage and hate.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
Lucas and the others swung through the doorway.
Evidence of a Pattern
TWO DRAINING HOURS LATER, WE RETURNED TO THE SUV. The EMTs had taken Jacob’s body to the Cabal morgue for examination and autopsy. A forensics team was processing the scene. Investigators were combing the area for witnesses and clues. Standard procedure for a murder investigation. Yet every one of these professionals, from the coroner to the photographer, was a supernatural, and a Cortez Cabal employee.
None of this would ever make the six o’clock news. The Cabals were a law unto themselves in the purest sense of the phrase. They had their own legal code. They enforced that code. They punished the transgressors. And nobody in the human world knew any different.
“Do you want to stay with Griffin?” I asked Troy as he escorted us to the car. “I’m sure we could grab another bodyguard from the security team.”
Troy shook his head. “They’re taking Griffin to see his kids. He doesn’t need me there.”
As we neared the SUV, Troy lifted the remote. Heavy running footfalls sounded behind us. It was Griffin.
“I want to talk to you,” he said, bearing down on Lucas.
Troy put up a hand to stop him, but Lucas shook his head. I readied a binding spell. Griffin stopped inches from Lucas, well within anyone’s personal comfort zone. Both Troy and I visibly tensed. Lucas only looked up at Griffin.
“I want to hire you,” Griffin said. “I want you to find whoever did this.”
“The Cabal will investigate. My father will see to it.”
“Fuck the Cabal.”
“Griff,” Troy warned.
“I mean it,” Griffin said. “Fuck the Cabal. They won’t do shit until some sorcerer’s kid gets hurt. I want you to find this son of a bitch and bring him to me. Just bring him to me.”
“I—”
“I can pay you. Whatever the going rate is for a PI, I’ll double it. Triple it.” He raised his fist for emphasis, then looked at his hand, shoved it into his pocket, and lowered his voice. “Just tell me what you want, and I’ll get it.”
“You don’t need to do that, Griffin. My father will order an investigation, and he has resources I can’t match.”
“I’m class C. I’m not entitled to an investigation.”
“But you’ll get one.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then I’ll do it,” I said quietly.
Griffin glanced over, as if he hadn’t noticed me there. For a long minute, he just looked at me. Then he nodded.
“Good,” he said. “Thank you.”
He turned and walked back into the night.
“Oh, God, what did I just say?” I murmured, thumping my head back against the leather rear seat. I looked at Lucas, buckling his seat belt beside me. “I am so sorry.”
“Don’t be. If you didn’t say it, I would have. You set his mind at ease. That’s what he needed. As for following through, that won’t be necessary. My father will call for an investigation, if for no other reason than to reassure his employees that the Cabal is taking action.”
This time when Troy searched our room, he found someone there. Benicio. Lucas took one look into the room and slumped, as if the strain of the night had just hit him full force.
“Minibar?” I whispered.
“Please.”
Benicio and I traded nods, and I skirted past him to the bar fridge. I took out two glasses, then stopped and turned to Benicio.
“Can I get you something?”
“Water would be fine,” he said. “Thank you, Paige.”
I fixed drinks as the two men talked behind me.
“I wanted to thank you for joining the search,” Benicio said. “It meant a lot to everyone, having someone from the family helping.”
“Yes, well, you’re welcome. It’s been a long night. Perhaps—”
“I couldn’t get your brothers there on a direct order, let alone voluntarily. They think leadership is showing up at the office every day, issuing orders, and signing papers. They have no concept of what the employees expect,