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snorted. “Raine, I’ve played cards with you. For your own financial preservation, you shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near a table.”
    “I’m not that bad.”
    “Yes. Yes, you are.”
    “Then I won’t play cards. I’ll confront him. I’m good at confrontation.”
    “With a nachtmagus.”
    “ I’m not scared of him.”    
    “I’m not scared of him, either.”
    “That’s not what it sounds like to me.”
    “Having good sense and being scared are two entirely different things.”
    “If you say so. Oh, and by the way, while you’re keeping Lord Mortsani occupied at the card table, his wife will be burglarizing his private office.”
    “For what?”
    “To expose what he does for a living.”
    “Being a nachtmagus is legal.”
    “Not the way he does it.”
    Silence.
    I knew I had him on the hook, or at least eyeing the bait with interest. My cousin had many weaknesses, and two of them were curiosity and a delight in scandal.
    “Her Ladyship says that he keeps meticulous records,” I continued casually. “The arrogant bastards usually do. Kind of like taking trophies.”
    “What does he do?”
    “Our boy’s into raising the dead for profit.”
    That last word was one of Phaelan’s favorites. I’d also said dead; but for my cousin, profit trumped dead things. 
    “Profit?” he asked.
    “Uh-huh. Relatives want a chance for one last chat with the dearly departed, usually when a will’s being contested or there’s a stash of valuables hidden in the family palazzo.”
    “If they wrote them out of the will or didn’t tell them where the family jewels were hidden, why would being brought back from the dead change their minds? I’d think they’d be pissed off at being called back.”
    “Usually it wouldn’t change their minds,” I said. “But spirits that get pulled back into a body are confused and easily manipulated. Sethis Mortsani and nachtmagi like him are offered a cut of the inheritance for compelling them to sign a will predated to just before their deaths. The parchment is bespelled, so everything’s nice and legal. Immoral as hell, but legal.”
    “I steal from people, but I’m honest enough to do it to their faces, and while they’re alive. Taking advantage of dead people. . . that’s just. . .”
    “Wrong,” I said helpfully.
    “In any and every way. And this Lord Mortsani cons dead people out of all their money for a living? Then he loses that at the card tables and has been stealing his wife’s jewelry?”
    “You got it.”
    “And his wife is getting the evidence of his cons while he’s at Sirens?”
    I nodded. “I’ll help her get those documents into the hands of the right people, and Lord Mortsani will be out of business and in prison—and the names of the scumbags who swindled their dead relatives will be public. And when the legal system is finished with them, I imagine more than a few will find their personal liberty severely limited as well.”
    “Being the one responsible for all that doesn’t make Her Ladyship the least bit nervous? Not only would her husband want payback, but so would all those scumbag relatives. Being locked up doesn’t stop people from getting revenge.”
    Especially spooky-shit nachtmagi . Phaelan didn’t say it, but I knew that was what he was thinking. 
    I shrugged. “If she’s afraid—and it didn’t sound like it to me—she’s more pissed off. Plus, she seems like a lady who knows how to take care of herself.”
    Phaelan didn’t say anything, and I kept my mouth shut. I knew what my cousin wanted to do—ruin Sethis Mortsani’s night and life—and the only thing stronger than his survival instinct was his greed. I was counting on greed to edge out survival. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time my cousin had done something crazy for fun and profit.
    Phaelan squared his shoulders, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “This Lord Mortsani deserves to get screwed out of his money—while he’s alive and knows what’s