“Okay,” I said, lifting my notebook. “I’m in the middle of a story right now, but I could meet him in an hour, say…” I scanned the street for a coffee shop.

“He needs to talk to you now.”

Troy’s voice was soft, gentle even, but a steel edge in his tone told me I didn’t have a choice. Benicio Cortez wanted to talk to me, and it was Troy’s job to make that happen.

I glanced at the crime scene. “Can I just get a few more minutes? If I can talk to one more witness, I’ll have enough for a story-”

“Mr. Cortez will look after that.”

He touched my elbow, gaze settling on mine, sympathetic but firm. When I still resisted, he leaned down, voice lowering. “He’d like to speak to you in the car, but if you’d be more comfortable in a public place, I can arrange it.”

I shook my head, shoved my notebook into my pocket and motioned for him to lead the way.

AS I MOVED toward the curb, a passing car hit a patch of melting snow, throwing up a sheet of slush. I scampered back, but it caught my legs, dappling my skirt and nylons, the icy pellets sliding down and coming to rest in my shoes. So much for looking presentable.

I rubbed my arms and told myself the goose bumps were from the ice, not trepidation over meeting Benicio Cortez. I’m a society girl-meeting a CEO shouldn’t be any cause for nerves. But Cortez Corporation was no ordinary Fortune 500 company.

A Cabal looked like a regular multinational corporation, but it was owned and staffed by supernaturals, and the unique abilities of its employees gave it a massive advantage over its competitors. It used that edge for everything from the legitimate (sorcerer spells to protect their vaults) to the unethical (astral-projecting shamans conducting corporate espionage) to the despicable (a teleporting half-demon assassin murdering a business rival).