I nodded.

“I don’t think I could do that to them,” Rain said.

“No, probably not,” Tattletale said. “But they might be willing to do it to you, and now you know what to look out for.”

“Thank you,” Rain said.

“Don’t thank me. Just don’t throw me in that alternate dimension of yours and lock the door behind you. And unless there’s something more pressing… let me get my Russian nesting doll back. These gunshot wounds hurt enough that I’m willing to dilute my existence down and kind of not exist.”

There wasn’t anything more pressing. We all had food for thought, and we had things to do. We left her be.

It was like a weight came off my shoulders, leaving an underground meeting with Tattletale, even though it had been a brightly-lit, high-ceilinged base of operations.

The snow was swirling around us, and the air was cold, but it was a refreshing cold. Below, with heaters going and a winterized costume on, I’d been a touch on the warm side. Now I was finding a happy middle ground. I’d probably find myself on the cold side when the light sweat chilled, but for now I was happy enough.

Our breath fogged around us, with Sveta as the exception.

“Gregor had to go somewhere. Do we have a pen and paper?” Sveta asked. “I’d like to leave him my contact information.”

“I’ve got some,” Lookout said. “My scratch pad for tinker ideas. Give me a second.”

Lookout rummaged and then took dictation. The others joined me, leaning against a bike rack that wouldn’t see much use for another few months. Tristan in his Capricorn armor, Rain, and Swansong.

“Deal with the devil,” I said.

“As the resident expert on devils, I don’t think she’s a devil,” Rain said.

“You’re the resident expert on a lot of things,” Tristan said.

“Yeah? I fucking earned it,” Rain said, without any hostility in his voice. “And before you get annoyed with me for going easy on her, Victoria—”

“I’m not ann—”

He didn’t stop talking, despite my interruption. “—I’m also the resident expert on shitty human beings. And I don’t think she’s a great person. But she’s trying in her own way.”

“You’re an expert on that too, hm?” Swansong asked.

“I’m—aren’t we all?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Difference is, I’ve never known her to apologize or acknowledge the things she did.”

Sveta joined us. Kenzie had run off.

I had my concerns about that—Kenzie ducking out of sight into a hive of villainy and mercenary tendencies. We’d talked very recently about how tinkers were prime targets for that sort of predation, being used for their powers.

Sveta seemed to notice. “She ran off as soon as I said I was done, sorry.”

I nodded.

“What do we think?” Sveta asked.