Lucas confirmed everything his father had told me about the gangs. He agreed I was a good choice to infiltrate one and he saw nothing suspicious in his father’s proposal. He would monitor the situation from Portland and, if I had any concerns or questions, he was only a phone call away.

Then Paige came on, and the tone changed. Was I comfortable with the job? How did I feel about it? Did everything seem okay? If the job bothered me at any point, even just a sense that something was amiss, I could call her, day or night-at home, at work or on her cell.

Not knowing the root of my powers-the chaos hunger was my guilty secret-they saw nothing odd about me taking this job. I was relieving myself of an obligation while gaining some experience, and that seemed perfectly reasonable to them.

Nor did they suggest the job might be more than I could handle. That would have been the first comment out of Karl’s mouth. I chalked that up to age. Karl was at least fifteen years older than me-with a werewolf’s slow aging, it was hard to tell exactly-but Paige was my age, and Lucas a year or two older. They could handle a job like this, so they knew I could.

When I hung up, I relaxed, my mind able to refocus on the task at hand.

“I need to know more about this gang,” I said as Benicio sat across from me. “You said there were rumblings. Exactly what are we talking about? Causing more trouble than usual? Or planning a strike against the Cabal?”

“The latter, I suspect, though at this point, it is only rumblings. I doubt they’re considering anything specific yet. You’re only there to get a better idea of the situation.”