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Benicio played us footage of some of the attacks made by the anti-reveal movement. A hell-beast had manifested in the New York subway system. Blurry video showed a subway train arriving at a crowded station. The beast appears. Only a few see it, but panic whips through the crowd. Someone says it's a bomb. People are trampled. People fall onto the tracks in front of the oncoming train. Too many people fall onto the tracks, meaning magic is at play.

Hundreds of people claimed to have been there. Most, it turned out, hadn't been within five miles. Reputable news source

s were already writing it off as mass hysteria, at most some large animal loose in the subway. The exposure threat? Minimal . . . so far.

Then, in Nashville, during a rooftop wedding reception, two uninvited guests appear: a werewolf and a vampire. Not just any werewolf and vampire, but ones that--judging by the blurry cell phone images on the Internet--had been locked up and starved long enough to tip them into madness.

Neither the Pack nor the council recognized the wretches. From the babble caught on those tapes, they seemed to be speaking foreign languages. Caught outside the U.S. or lured in, held captive, starved, driven mad . . . and released on a rooftop filled with half-drunk wedding revelers with the exit doors barred behind them, a cell phone blocker cutting off all hopes of aid.

Bodies began hitting the pavement, partygoers so desperate to escape that they leaped to their deaths. By the time authorities reached the roof, all the guests and event staff were dead. The werewolf and vampire were gone, too, leaving only cell phone videos of two disheveled and crazed "humans" ripping people apart.

"The group responsible hasn't launched an attack in twelve hours now," Benicio said after the cases had been presented. "We've captured three key members and they are undergoing interrogation. Another half-dozen members have been detained. Still more have been stopped."

He meant killed. No one needed the clarification.

"As most of you are aware, the Boyd Cabal has been working with us on this. They disabled one branch before it could act. The St. Clouds handled another, but after the death of Thomas Nast, they have cut off contact with us. We can trust, however, that they will continue their efforts."

Sean added. "As for the Nasts, I've been in touch with a few senior executives. We'll be joining your efforts, together with a contingent of staff loyal to me."

Benicio nodded. "I believe we'll see more help from your organization as the shock passes and they realize this is not, sadly, the time for grief. Nor is it the time for a battle over succession."

"I hope so," Paige murmured beside me.

She didn't sound too optimistic, and based on what I'd seen, I wasn't either. We could get men apparently loyal to Sean onside, but they couldn't be given any access to Cortez information or positions of authority, in case they were spies for Josef. By the time the average Nast Cabal employee decided to throw in his lot with Sean, it might be too late to help.

"Speaking of these attacks, I have some good news," Benicio said. "We managed to avert situations in Boston and Denver, based on Hope's visions."

"There," Karl said. He was sitting on a sofa at the back of the room, with Hope curled up beside him. He turned to her. "You were helpful. You've been thanked. Now you can go back to bed--"

"I need to--"

"You need to rest."

Hope had looked rundown the last time I'd seen her. Now she looked as if she'd been run down, hit by the same steamroller that had squashed me. Her dark curls were lank. Her face was thinner, bones even more defined. The bags under her eyes had graduated to full-size luggage. But her eyes were bright, alert, and determined. Very determined.

"I need to listen to everything so I can put my visions in context," she said. "And I am resting." She curled up under Karl's arm, resting her head on his chest, her hand on his leg. "Resting and safe, as long as you're here."

Karl rolled his eyes at such an obvious play. But it worked, too. He shifted to make her more comfortable and settled in with a sigh.

Sean and I were up next. Everyone had questions, and there seemed to be some dispute over whether the demon who'd killed Thomas was actually Balaam. No one liked to believe the lord demons were taking such an active role in this.

"This is the second time Balaam has come to me," I said. "Everything we've learned so far tells us that this fight goes right to the top of the demon hierarchy. They all think they have something to gain or lose if supernaturals are exposed. Balaam is for it. Asmondai is against it. Those seem to be the two factions. I don't know about the other lords, but the one they all want on their side is the one who's gone AWOL."

"Lucifer," Hope murmured. "He's MIA and I'm getting all his voice mail."

"Or he's the one sending you the visions," I said. "Trying to help without taking sides."

"Then I wish he'd damned well man up and take one," Karl growled.

I turned to the Cabal execs. "According to my mother, it's not just the demons who are choosing sides. We're getting celestial interference, too. Whether you believe any of that or not doesn't really matter. Anything you thought you knew about our world? Forget it. Someone has tossed out the rule book. Ghosts can cross the divide. Hellhounds can manifest. Demi-demons can possess living children. Lord demons are taking a hand in Cabal politics."

I looked at Benicio. "What about the original bad guys? What have Giles and his liberation movement been doing since I left them?"

"We're trying to find out," Benicio said.

He explained that he'd dedicated his best resources to finding Giles and his crew, who'd vacated their New Orleans meeting house before the Cabal could invade.

I said I wanted to go back in the field. I knew Giles and his people. They all knew me. Presumably I was still useful to them. So at the very least, I'd make good bait to draw them out.

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