Best I could do was look at my options and decide “which one could I live with the least.” Number three, no question. So follow my own advice—move forward and watch my back.

The big question, though, was where I was moving forward to.

“Miami,” Adam said. “That girl or her aunties get within a mile of Cortez headquarters and they’ll find themselves locked up, awaiting interrogation from someone a whole lot nastier than you or me.”

I shook my head. “The Cabal won’t give a shit about some chicks killing off witches.”

“The Cabal might not, but Lucas will, meaning Benicio will and, as far as I’m concerned, they are the Cortez Cabal.”

When I didn’t answer, he looked over. “You need to tell Lucas and Paige about your spell problem sooner or later.”

“You think I’m avoiding Miami so I don’t have to tell Lucas and Paige? Uh no. I’m avoiding Miami until I’m sure I won’t lead a witch-hunter to Paige. We have other things we can follow up on for now.”

“Like what?”

“I’ll call Lucas from the motel. I’m sure he’ll have something.”

Lucas had nothing. Not too surprising, considering he’d only landed in Miami an hour ago.

“We’ll just chill out here, then,” I said.

“In the city where these witch-hunters reside?” Lucas’s voice rose on the speakerphone, a rare show of incredulity. “After you’ve made contact with them?”

Across the room, Adam nodded in emphatic agreement.

“I’d like you here,” Lucas said. “Jaime is en route, as is Jeremy. Elena, Hope, and Karl will be following tonight. They’ve called a council meeting—”

“I’m not council.”

“I am,” Adam said.

“You go then.”

He gave me a look, then said to Lucas, “Savannah’s concerned about leading the witch-hunter back to Paige.” He mouthed Which is bullshit to me. “We’ve got a few things to do first, but we’ll come to Miami tomorrow.”

Next I called Sean. My half brother was chief operating officer of the Nast Cabal. How the guy ever climbed so high, when he’d somehow failed to inherit any of our family’s less savory traits, is a testament to just how damned good he is at his job. That and our grandfather’s desperate need to hold on to some part of our father. He ignored Sean’s gentle nature; Sean ignored the company’s baser nature. It all worked out . . . in a completely dysfunctional way guaranteed to blow up spectacularly someday. I just hoped my brother didn’t suffer the brunt of the explosion.

When Sean’s cell phone rang through to voice mail, I decided to try the office.

His line was picked up on the second ring.

“Hello, Savannah.”

The icy tone meant it wasn’t Sean. I gripped the phone a little tighter. It was Bryce, Sean’s younger brother. Biologically, that means he’s also my half brother, but Bryce refuses to acknowledge any relationship. That used to hurt. Okay, it still does.

In the beginning, I thought Bryce was just worried I was after his inheritance. But that’s not it. His mother left Kristof a few years before he met my mother, but Bryce is still convinced my mother drove his off. That’s easier than believing his mother abandoned him when he was barely old enough to walk. I can’t imagine how horrible that must feel, which makes it really hard for me to hate the guy, and I think that only pisses him off all the more.

“Hey, Bryce. How’re you doing?”

“Sean’s not here. He’s in Hong Kong. Didn’t he tell you?”

Shit. I’d forgotten. I didn’t say that, though. Bryce hated sharing Sean, and if he thought I didn’t rate getting our brother’s travel plans, then I wasn’t going to rob him of the victory.

“Damn. Has he been gone long?”

“Five days.”

“Then he wouldn’t be able to help me anyway. Maybe you can.”

A snorted laugh. “Seriously? Um, no. Even if I could—”

“I have information that the Cabal might want. That’s why I was calling Sean. Hoping to warn him and check out a rumor.”

I glanced at Adam. He was in the bathroom shaving, having skipped it this morning. The door was open and he could hear my conversation, but he didn’t turn. With anyone other than Bryce, I’d have given up after the first rebuff. With Bryce, I had this weird compulsion to keep offering my hand in peace, no matter how many times he spat on it. I guess Adam knew that.

“I’m not Sean,” Bryce said. “I don’t offer Cabal secrets in return for your useless scraps, Savannah. Maybe you can take advantage of him, but—”

“Sean never gives me Cabal secrets.” And you know it, because you know Sean. “All I’m asking for is confirmation or denial of a rumor.”

“What’s this warning you want to give?”

Again, anyone else and I’d have insisted on quid pro quo. Instead, I told him about the so-called liberation movement.

He snorted. “Seriously? You think we haven’t heard that? Where have you been for the past week, Savannah? Partying? A junior security team has been assigned to investigate, but we sure as hell aren’t battening down the hatches because a few kids have started shouting ‘Free the Supernaturals.’ Please.”

“It’s more than that. They’ve killed—” Now Adam looked up. I chomped my tongue. I hadn’t meant to give that away. I was like a little girl, so desperate for her big brother’s approval she’ll do anything to get it.

“Killed who?” Bryce asked.

“A sorcerer, I think,” I lied. “That’s what I heard anyway.”

“More rumors. It’s like dealing with children. A bogeyman jumps out and they run screaming to the council. And the council is stupid enough to actually listen and go bogeyman hunting.”

“We’re just following up on information we received,” I said. “Including the tip that this movement was trying to recruit near Nast headquarters and the Cabal snatched them up.”

“Is that what you heard?”

“Is it true? If you guys have them and you aren’t interested in interrogating them, you could turn them over to the council.”