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was behind the bar, moving confidently in the familiar space. Tonight she wore a zebra-striped dress, easy to spot through anyone’s eyes she happened to borrow.
    She was busy stacking cans under the counter. The Dish had only one ancient refrigerator, and by design the cold beer always ran out early. As Nate said, a sober crowd was better for practicing their powers on.
    This crowd was younger than usual, everyone out of schoolon the last Saturday before Christmas. Thibault recognized a lot of faces, though. He’d made an effort to memorize the regulars. He wanted to know this place as well as he’d known his last home, the Hotel Magnifique.
    A girl caught his eye, swaying through the crowd, her hair dramatic white and magenta. Seriously? Sonia Sonic? Why had Nate let her in, when she was practically stalking the Zeroes?
    Ethan was trailing after her. Okay, Nate must have told him to keep an eye on her.
    â€œYou thirsty?”
    Flicker handed a bottle of water across the bar, fully aware of him even with all these people around. Amazing.
    It was icy in his hand. The last cold one, no doubt.
    â€œThanks.”
    She dipped her head at him. “Let’s see if I can hold on to you when people start lining up.”
    â€œNo big deal if you can’t.”
    â€œOh, but I will.” She ran a finger down the inside of her left arm. Earlier, upstairs in his room, he’d moved his lips slowly along that same line, making her shiver. Breathing her in. And she hadn’t forgotten it.
    Damn it, why did the Dish have to be open tonight?
    Even after half a year, it astounded Thibault that he had a girlfriend, someone who remembered his name and what kind of coffee he drank. Someone he’d happily wear this ridiculous red leather jacket for, just so she could spot himmore easily in a crowd. She even quoted Zen koans at him sometimes.
    Like whispering, Attachment leads to suffering, with her lips next to his ear, her hands on his skin. Right now Thibault was fine with being attached, to this girl and this place and these people. He had a home, upstairs in the old theater office. No more ripping off hotels. He even had a roommate, Kelsie, who wasn’t completely surprised when she ran into him making breakfast in the mornings.
    For the first time, he was part of something—this group experiment where the Zeroes could hone their skills without breaking police stations and hurting people.
    â€œThis is a pretty tight set,” Flicker said.
    Thibault nodded. “Mob gets better every time.”
    Beyond the haze of crowd connections, Kelsie was a tiny figure with giant headphones clamped around her blond curls. She danced in her skintight silver dress, lining up the next track. She’d wound up the crowd pretty high—shiny faces and open mouths. Maybe she should ease up some?
    Right on cue she switched to a gentler track. Thibault grinned. The first time the Dish had opened, she’d exhausted everyone in the first hour. But she was learning.
    Released from her thrall, the crowd’s awareness flickered about like bugs’ antennae, brightening as people greeted friends or eyed alluring strangers. Some drifted toward the bar, eager for the cold beer while it lasted.
    Flicker’s awareness of him faded, but it would come back.
    Thibault slid off the bar stool, watching the dance floor empty. Sonia Sonic was standing in the center, looking around at the unused stage of the old theater, the box seats full of Chizara’s lights, the rickety stairway. Checking everything out.
    Was Nate really okay with this?
    Sonia took out her phone, held it up, then frowned.
    A flickering beam of attention arced toward her. Chizara, half smiling in the lighting box. No, not Chizara—Crash.
    Thibault joined in the smile.
    â€œWhat do you mean, only beer?” someone bellowed nearby. “My girl wants champagne!”
    Thibault turned. A tall, skinny guy leaned at Flicker across the bar. The