We had our stuff packed and ready to go, the escape routes in mind. Above us and to our left, Kenzie, Tristan, and a disguised Ashley were leaning against the railing, looking out over the lounge and social area. The center of the hourglass and the passage to the other side were right behind them.

Love Lost arrived in civilian clothes. Her tinker had stayed behind. She wore a coat with a velvety texture, ankle-length and tailored to fit her figure, drawing in at the waist and then drawing in slightly from the hips. Her winter boots had platform heels, and I could see traces of metal along the boots. Claws ready to deploy.

I had snacks in my bag that I’d saved in case we’d ended up doing an outdoor stakeout or surveillance from the van. I found a bag of chips and opened it, sharing out the contents.

“What are you doing?” Sveta asked.

“Acting normal,” I said. “Don’t stare.”

Rain bit down on a chip.

Love Lost, Colt, and Nailbiter were weaving their way across the floor. Love Lost whispered something to Nailbiter, with Colt in earshot. Immediately, the other two started peering over the crowd more intently.

They knew we were here. They’d planned for the camera—no doubt because they knew how we’d operated in Cedar Point. She’d studied what we brought to the table and recruited a counter to Lookout.

Does a detective’s awareness of their environment and an emotion-senser’s ability let her pick us out from a crowd with any effectiveness?

I was trusting no, extrapolating from how Dean had described things. I was trusting that if it came down to it and she did see us, then they wouldn’t try too hard to get us. This was their territory, and as much as they seemed willing to shit where they ate, I had to assume that they wouldn’t slaughter the people in their own neck of the woods.

“Why is this working?” Rain asked.

“Emotional soup. There might be enough people here that feel just as awful as you do.”

“Really.”

I looked out over the crowd. “Only takes five or six.”

Love Lost found the people she wanted to talk to. It was maybe the biggest collection of people in the lounge area. With twenty-five seats, they had members of their group split across five or six. Right beneath Kenzie, Tristan, and Ashley, who peered down from the second floor railing. It might have been the third floor on another building’s layout, but this center had been built tall, open, and grand, so it might feel less claustrophobic in the midst of a harsh, hungry winter.

The anti-parahuman citizens having a face-to-face meeting with Love Lost. Pretty clear that they knew what she was, because they seemed pretty stone-faced until Colt arrived, acting as an interpreter or representative.