“Sometimes?”

I swatted him and laughed, then gasped as pain shot through my stomach. Adam grabbed for the call button, but I lifted my hand to stop him.

“I’m okay,” I said.

He nodded and sat down on the side of the bed. “You had us pretty worried. At the house everything seemed okay, but then, boom, you blacked out and your blood pressure dropped—” He shook his head. “Not a good scene. I was freaked, and Lucas was freaked, which only freaked me out even more, ’cause I figured this guy doesn’t scare easy and if this scares him, there must be reason to be scared and—” Another shake of the head. “It wasn’t good.”

“Paige.”

I looked up to see a figure in the doorway. The voice told me it was Lucas, but I had to blink to double-check. Pale and unshaven, he was still dressed in the suit he’d worn for the missionary ruse at Weber’s house, but the jacket and tie were gone. His shirt was wrinkled and splattered with coffee stains. One sleeve of his shirt was charred at the forearm, with bandages peeking through the gaping hole. That was the drawback to working with Adam—when he got mad, you had to stay out of his way, or you paid the price in second-degree burns.

“I’ll be outside,” Adam said, shifting off the bed.

He slipped out the door. As Lucas approached I saw that the stains on his shirt weren’t coffee brown, but rust red. Blood. My blood. He followed my gaze.

“Oh, I should change. I—”

“Later,” I said.

“Do you want to call Savannah? I can—”

“Later.”

I held out my hand. He took it, then reached down to hug me.

An hour later, I was still awake, having persuaded the nurse to hold off on my pain medication. First I needed answers.

“Are they holding Weber in L.A.?” I asked.

Lucas shook his head. “My father won that battle. Weber is in Miami, with a trial date set for Friday.”

“I don’t get that,” Adam said. “Why bother? They know the guy’s guilty. What are they going to do, say ‘Whoops, we didn’t issue a proper warrant’ and let him walk?”

“He’s entitled to a trial,” Lucas said. “It’s Cabal law.”

“But is it a real trial?” I asked.

“A Cabal trial mirrors a human law trial at its most basic level. Lawyers present the case to judges who determine guilt or innocence and impose sentence. As for Weber being released on a technicality, it’s unlikely to the point of impossible. The concept of civil rights is much more narrowly defined in a Cabal court.”

“You don’t need to worry about this guy, Paige,” Adam said. “He’s not coming back out.”

“That’snot—” I turned to Lucas. “Has he confessed?”

Lucas shook his head. His gaze slipped to the side, just barely, but I’d been with him long enough to know what this meant.

“There’s something else, isn’t there?” I said. “Something’s happened.”

He hesitated, then nodded. “Another Cabal teen died Friday night.”

I bolted upright, sending shock waves of pain through me. Lucas and Adam both sprang to their feet, but I waved them down.

“I’m sorry,” Lucas said. “I shouldn’t have blurted it out like that. Let me explain. Matthew Tucker was the nineteen-year-old son of Lionel St. Cloud’s personal assistant. When Lionel came to Miami for the meeting Thursday, Matthew came along with his mother. On Friday night, while we were watching Weber’s house, a group of the younger Cabal employees decided to go clubbing, and Matthew joined them. After a few drinks, they wandered out of a nightclub district and into a less savory neighborhood. The group split up, and everyone thought Matthew was with someone else. When they returned without him, the Cabals sent out search teams. They found him shot to death in an alley.”

“Shot?” Adam said. “Then it’s not our guy. Stabbing and strangulation. That’s his MO.”

“The Nast Cabal has since confirmed that their second victim, Sarah Dermack, was shot.”

“Did this Matthew call the emergency number?” Adam asked.

Lucas shook his head. “But neither did Micahel Shane, the St. Cloud victim.”

“Was Matthew on Weber’s list?” Adam asked.

“No,” I said. “And if he lives with his mother, who’s not a bodyguard, he doesn’t seem to satisfy the criteria. He’s also older than the others. But still, it does seem—”

“Like something completely different,” Adam cut in. “The guy was in the wrong place at the wrong time and got shot.”

“What are the Cabals saying?” I asked Lucas.

“Almost to the word, exactly what Adam just said.”

Our eyes met and I saw my own doubts reflected back.

“So we have questions, then,” I said. “If the Cabals aren’t going to ask them, we need to do it ourselves. That means we need to go to Miami and talk to Weber.”

Lucas went quiet. Adam looked from him to me.

“My opinion?” Adam said. “You both take this ‘protecting the innocent’ thing way too far, but if you’ve got questions, then you’d better get them answered before it’s too late. Yeah, I know you don’t want to take Paige to Miami, and I can totally understand that, but Weber’s locked up. He’s not going to hurt her.”