Mac had just appeared at the top of the Fairmont steps, gun stuffed lazily into his waistband, face twisted into a snarl. The woman in black stood just behind him, her head bowed, silent as ever.

“You here to surrender, Quinn?” Mac asked.

Dorothy wet her lips, nerves tightening her muscles. They’d considered many versions of this plan before landing on this one, discarding them all one after another. Disappearing into the past meant leaving this world to rot, and taking on Mac directly meant that they would almost certainly be outnumbered and killed.

And so, they’d decided on this. Showing up unarmed, alone. It had seemed like their only option, at the time. Now that they were here, though, it was clear that this was lunacy.

Please work, she thought as she raised her hands a little higher, to show that she had no plans to reach for her daggers.

Eliza had separated from the fog and was by Dorothy’s side in a second, ripping her arms behind her back with more force than strictly necessary.

“Good choice,” she snarled into Dorothy’s ear. She began to pat Dorothy down; clearly, she had no intention of trusting that she was unarmed.

Dorothy tried not to grimace as the rest of the Freaks surrounded them, guns drawn.

“I’m here to make a trade,” Dorothy said, working hard to keep her voice calm. She saw, from the corner of her eye, that Bennett was patting down Ash.

Mac lifted his eyebrows. “A trade?”

“That’s right.” Dorothy offered a slow smile, her eyebrow twitching. “Ash and I are prepared to hand over what’s left of the exotic matter and lead you to the location of the Black Crow. Now, if you’d like.”

Mac chewed on his fat lips for a moment, thinking this over. “And you’re doing this out of the goodness of your own heart are you?”

“Of course not.” Dorothy felt the corners of her lips tighten. Holding the smile was becoming difficult. “In exchange, you’ll call off the bounty on our heads. No more Freaks following us wherever we might go, no more threats. You get your time machine, and we get our freedom. Everyone’s happy.”

For a long moment, no one said a word. The only sound was the wind over the water, the shuffle of boots against damp wood, the dock’s disapproving groan.

“There’s no trade without a pilot,” Mac said, eyes narrowing.

Dorothy kept her eyes trained straight ahead. She’d done many questionable things in the year she’d spent as Quinn Fox, but she’d always been able to justify them as necessary. She’d been building a better world, a better future. If there were people she needed to step on along the way, so be it.

But she’d never thought of herself as a selfish person before. Not until now.