Guy had bustled me from the war room while they planned the strike against the Cabal. I presumed that meant he didn’t trust me yet, but I’d be naive if I wasn’t considering the possibility that they knew I was a spy.

If he suspected, though, he wasn’t doing a very good job of imprisoning me. Max hadn’t activated the storeroom lock. I’d detected only a security spell across the doorway, which would warn them if I left.

As for why Guy picked this room, I wondered whether he knew more about Expisco half-demons than he’d let on. Being here, with such a strong source of chaos nearby, prevented me from listening in to their distant thoughts and conversation.

I’d now watched Bianca die twenty-one times, and no matter how hard I fought, the ending was always the same. The bullet hit and I gasped, struck by a bolt of indescribably delicious chaos.

This last time, the gasp was more a mewl, my overstimulated nerves protesting, my body shaking with exhaustion. But that didn’t block the charge of pleasure—or the wave of self-loathing. And, finally the questions.

I’d known she was in trouble and hurried into the back hall to help. Had I tried hard enough? Had I run fast enough? I’d seen her killer raise the gun and I’d stopped running, hit by the chaos wave. As the scene replayed, that split-second of inaction seemed to stretch into long minutes, during which I stood in that hall, doing nothing, overwhelmed by the chaos.

“—need to strike at—” Tony’s voice in my head, penetrating the chaos fog.

I strained to hear more. I needed to focus on finding out what they were planning so I could warn Benicio.

But should I warn him? It looked as if he’d kidnapped Jaz and Sonny, and had Bianca killed. What obligation did I have to tell him anything? I didn’t have enough information, didn’t know who was really the aggressor and who the defender. That’s why Karl had insisted on letting Lucas decide our next move. Whatever allegiance Lucas felt to his family, his allegiance to truth was greater.

“—I just don’t think—”

“—then walk away—”

I strained to pick up more, but the chaos ebbed and surged as the gang members’ moods veered between grief-fueled outrage and anxiety over whatever they were planning.

“—get past security—”

“—trust me—”

Were they going to break in somewhere?

“—will be the toughest—”

“—once in, though—-”

The room wobbled, then went black. The gun rose—

Not now! I pressed my hands against my eyes, but the images kept flashing. I couldn’t stay here. If I was going to figure out what was happening, I needed to—

As the bullet struck Bianca, my cell phone beeped, warning me of an incoming message. Had I not been clutching it, I’d never have noticed.