I’d spent two years working for the Cortez Cabal. Unintentionally. Hired by Tristan Robard, who I thought was a representative of the interracial council, I’d been placed with True News to keep an eye on supernatural stories, suppressing or downplaying the real ones and alerting the council to potential trouble. My job soon expanded to helping them locate rogue supernaturals.

It had been the perfect way to guiltlessly indulge my hunger for chaos. The phrase “too good to be true” comes to mind, but I’d been in such a dark place-depressed, angry, confused. When you’re that far down and someone offers you a hand back up, you grab it and you don’t ask questions.

Then came my toughest assignment. Capturing a werewolf jewel thief during a museum gala. I’d been so pleased with myself…until that werewolf-Karl Marsten-ripped the rose-colored glasses from my eyes and proved that I was really working for the Cortez Cabal. When we escaped that mess, cleaning services came from an unexpected quarter: Benicio. My employment had been a secret operation of Tristan’s, and his attack on Karl a personal matter, so in apology, Benicio had disposed of the bodies and provided medical assistance for Karl.

In return, we owed him. Until now, I’d never worried about that because I had a codebtor. Karl was a professional thief-capable of guiding me through whatever underworld task Benicio set us.

But now Benicio had come to collect, and Karl wasn’t around to do anything about it.

MY SKIRT GAVE an obscene squeak as I slid onto the SUV’s leather seat. If the man within noticed, he gave no sign, just put out a hand to help me.