“Where’s Janni?” TamLin demanded of Misha.

…who was staring at him with disgust.

He was too tired for this shit. “Misha.”

“You just murdered that girl and set up Kasy as an accomplice.”

TamLin gave him a flat stare. “She’s fucking modded. Four ebbers for her is like five for me.”

That wasn’t a great example—Misha wouldn’t know or understand TamLin’s frame of reference or tolerance levels.

Maybe a bit of explanation would help. It would at least distract him from remembering how Kasy had described what she’d sensed from Second—a description that meant she wasn’t a grade yellow. “When someone goes into psychic shock, everyone in that person’s read radius can be affected. She’s a strong enough psy that a breakdown would’ve affected probably half the block and probably killed a few people in this building. She’s an adult, and she consented with full awareness of what she was agreeing to. That should be sufficient for both of you.”

Raleigh frowned. “But as a Nameless, can she really consent? Doesn’t she have to agree to whatever to keep others safe?”

Perception built on partial knowledge was fucking annoying. “There are technicalities and ways around that if she really hadn’t wanted to risk the ebbers. She would’ve let me know.” He looked back at Misha. “Now, where. is. Janni?”

His coworker was still watching him with narrowed eyes, so TamLin might’ve lost one of his few allies at work, but the man turned and led him up the metal-mesh stairs that led to overhead walkways that were open, looking out over the main room, and which led to smaller bars and rooms of various sizes that were designed for more…intimate parties, though not always with whores.

Raleigh brought up the rear, which made TamLin’s neck prickle with unease. His abilities lay in sensing the energy of somewhens more than motives and emotions, so if Janni’s hack faltered or failed—or if the hack had been done by someone other than Janni—he’d have no warning before she attacked. Leaving her behind him was a liability.

He jerked back and to the side, letting her step past him and taking the rear position and its advantages for himself. Her own shoulders visibly tightened, her body admitting that she didn’t trust him, either.

Too fucking bad.

Misha stumbled on something, lost his drink on someone, and nearly got his head slammed against the railing before Raleigh yanked him out of the way of the guy whose orange strip-top was now sporting florescent green. TamLin wondered if she’d noticed, yet, how much her software issues were slowing her down.

As a warning for the guy who’d had a drink spilled on him, TamLin flashed his ident—stupid bit of hardware, that; too easy to forge or steal—and the three of them kept going up the stairs while the guy protested and grabbed after them.

TamLin made sure to deliver a firm enough elbow to the side to make clear that someone could easily have an accident over the rail, and the guy settled quickly enough to bode well for his long-term survival.

He hoped Janni was close. His temper wouldn’t do anyone good if it got much worse.