AFTER EXACTLY TEN more minutes of eating and drinking and joking around, Guy moved on to our plans for that night. I expected a larger scale version of what we’d done yesterday—maybe knock over a liquor store or hijack a transport, both common gang activities according to Benicio’s notes. What Guy laid out though, made me realize why this gang, despite its size, was such a concern to Benicio.

His scheme was audacious. There was no other word for it. Clever, elaborate and mind-blowing in its boldness.

Bianca assigned us preparation tasks. I was put with Jaz and Sonny again, getting the equipment ready. As everyone filed out, Guy ordered me to wait.

“These marks tonight,” he said when the others had left. “They’re your kind of people, aren’t they?”

Society people, he meant. I considered distancing myself right now—sure I come from that, but they aren’t my people, not anymore. Too easy to see through that lie, so I nodded and said simply, “That’s right.”

He leaned back in his chair. “Any advice you can give? Potential problems I’m not seeing?”

After studying the plans, and rehashing his scheme, I ventured an idea to help him get away with it.

“Smart girl. I wouldn’t have thought of that.”

“The others might not be too happy. It’ll cut into the profits.”

He smiled. “Well, then, you won’t mind if I take credit, will you?”

“Not at all.”

LUCAS 2

LUCAS

2

I SWIPED MY KEY CARD at the office delivery doors and parked my motorcycle in the back hall. In this neighborhood, I wasn’t leaving a 1929 Indian Scout in the alley. While it wasn’t yet motorcycle weather, Paige had the car, so I’d brought the bike out of storage. I won’t say I wasn’t happy for the excuse.

I left my helmet on the seat and adjusted my glasses. For comfort, contacts are the preferred eye wear with helmets, but I couldn’t be bothered inserting and removing them for a short ride. Savannah tells me that I could resolve the problem by exchanging my glasses for contacts permanently. I tell her contacts irritate my eyes. A lie. Glasses project an image and I’ve grown comfortable with that image. Investigating supernatural cases sometimes requires more than lobbing a few defensive spells, and I’ve won more than my fair share of fights simply because my opponent takes one look at me and presumes I won’t throw the first punch.

Another key card swipe to get into the stairwell, then up to our second-floor offices where yet a third pass of the card is required. I’d grown up with such security measures at the Cabal offices, but I often overheard Savannah and Adam cursing as they fumbled to find their cards. No one complained, though. When it came to the building, we were still in the honeymoon phase.