Now they were being celebrated, if that was the right word. They were teenagers or men and women in their early twenties, and they’d wanted an excuse to party. Thin justification, but she wasn’t going to say no. They had provided the information, she had conducted the raid, and money had been collected and doled out. It helped that the excuse for the partying was that she’d succeeded. People were paying attention to her triumph.

It felt like a dream. She felt important, she felt good, and it wasn’t being poisoned or undercut in any way.

“Armsmaster has discipline,” Ashley said. “He has more tools.”

“The rules are important,” Angel’s brother said. “What location? How far apart are they to start?”

“Wait, wait,” someone said. “Who benefits from more distance?”

More replies overlapped.

She didn’t know how to deal with this. Her power had flickered a few times, even kicked once, and people were mostly ignoring it. There had been one question from a newcomer, and then there had been nothing.

She couldn’t bring people to her empty lair, so she had consulted J. J had provided some ideas, and she’d picked this. With some of the money, she had rented some hotel rooms. It was an easy way to have comfort, food, and a bit of luxury for Angel, who needed or wanted that. For some of these people, people in this age range who did this kind of work who hadn’t been around the other night, this was luxury, something that could draw them into her fold.

She’d tried and tried again. Sooner or later, she’d taken a risk and it had failed. She’d been sabotaged, by people or by her power.

Somehow… not this time. There had been a moment where Angel’s brother had walked past her, reeking of alcohol, and her eyes had watered very easily.

Fatigue threatened to catch up with her, and she couldn’t afford to sleep.

Instead, as the discussion got sillier, she took the opportunity to stand.

“Make sure you can work tomorrow night, because we have more to do,” she said. She smiled. “Enjoy yourselves. That’s an order.”

There were cheers. She felt like she was drunk, just from the emotional reaction to the cheer.

It wasn’t a far cry from this to being worshiped.

It felt like every thing she could do was the wrong thing. She had spent three years alone and now she finally had allies. They were people who understood her, and as she rode the emotional high, she retreated to her room to be alone again.