I sat up. “Most people I talk to don’t really think Lucas is the heir. They figure Benicio’s just being wily, keeping his older boys in line.” Lucas himself believed that.

“Guy thinks the old man’s serious. And if he dies? If Lucas Cortez takes over the Cabal?” He shook his head.

“But if Guy thinks it means the end of the Cabal, isn’t that a good thing?”

“It’s not the Cabal concept Guy’s against. It’s the way they’re run—the imbalance of power. He’d love to upset that balance, give some back to the little guys like us. But destroy the Cabal altogether, like Lucas Cortez would do? What would that do to supernaturals in Miami? To people like our parents, with Cabal jobs? To the gangs? Guy wants reform, not annihilation.”

So what, if anything, did Guy plan to do? I couldn’t ask. Not yet. But I had my lead. Benicio was right—there was trouble brewing.

Dropping the subject was tough. The reporter in me could see the answers lying there, right under the surface. At least I could dig around the site, see what else popped up.

“You guys ever met Lucas Cortez?” I asked.

Sonny shook his head.

“I met a guy who went to college with him,” Jaz said.

“Law school?”

“Nah, undergrad. This was back before Lucas got into his ‘fight the power’ shit. This guy knew who Lucas was because his dad worked for the Cortezes. Otherwise, he said, he never would have noticed him. A geek and a loner, the kind of kid you only talk to if you need someone to do your homework.”

Sonny shook his head. “And this is the son Benicio wants to run the Cabal.”

“I’ve met him,” I said.

Jaz dropped the pebble he’d been playing with. “Lucas Cortez?”

“I was dating a thief who’d had trouble with Lucas. After we pulled one job, he came after us.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously would be overstating it. My ex got rid of him pretty easily. Like you said, he’s a geek. A loser who fancies himself some kind of crusader.” I sent up a mental apology to Lucas.

Jaz considered my words for a moment, then said, “Guy would like to hear this. Get your impressions. Would that be okay?”

Exactly what I’d hoped. I nodded and said I’d do my best, even call my ex if it would help.

CALL MY EX…

I’d spent the break-in trying to focus on Karl in the most neutral terms. My contact. My mentor. My friend. I’d called him my “ex” with Guy this afternoon and now with Jaz because that would be easy for them to understand. The truth was that “boyfriend” was the one word I couldn’t pin on him, let alone “ex.”

Karl Marsten…