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nearer half of his head was shaved, and the girl beside him was all makeup, boots, and frilly skirt, her hands on her hips. Their attention was like two shining pickaxes sunk into Flicker’s face.
    How had Thibault not noticed these two before? They had trouble written all over them.
    â€œSorry,” Flicker said cheerfully, sight lines multiplying as the guy’s voice drew everyone’s attention. “It’s five-dollar beer or a buck for water. And we’re not even legal for beer, really.”
    The girl looked super bored. The guy shrugged and reached into his jacket and pulled out cash—a wad of it, like something out of a comic book. Thibault hadn’t seen that many bills sincethe summer, when Scam had stumbled into Nate’s place with Craig’s duffel bag of drug takings.
    The guy dumped the cash on the bar and strolled the length of it, drawing the bills out in a line like a card dealer spreading a deck. Then he grabbed his girlfriend’s hand and pulled her back through the crowd. “Come drink your five-dollar beer, bitches!” he called out. “We’re gonna dance!”
    The bar crowd changed in a microsecond. Attention flashed thick on the bills; hands grabbed and people surged forward. Flicker stepped back, looking dazed.
    The crowd had been one big magical beast on the dance floor, built with all Mob’s care and skill. Now it fragmented into a hot mess of individuals, needy and clamoring. A koan tolled in Thibault’s head: Even a shower of money is no satisfaction.
    See? The money was already gone. People started calling for beers and water and snacks, the bright lines of their attention stabbing at Flicker. A guy pushed past Thibault, straightening a little stack of bills and aiming for the door.
    â€œOkay, that is not cool,” Thibault said, going after him. The cashed-up guy might have been an asshole, but this was an out-and-out thief.
    He reached the guy just as he was shoving the cash into his jacket pocket. Chizara was playing the UV light across the room, and the security strips flashed at Thibault like the bills were signaling for rescue.
    He rescued them, right out of the guy’s hand.
    The thief swung around. Thibault chopped away his attention before it had time to land on him. The guy’s outraged look turned to bewilderment.
    â€œWho the—?” He checked his empty pocket, scanned the crowd.
    Stashing the money in his own pocket, Thibault cut away through the dancers to find a jostle-free place to stand against the wall.
    The rich guy and his girlfriend were in the middle of the dance floor. They stood face-to-face, holding hands, gazing into each other’s eyes.
    Thibault’s breath caught—the bright bar of attention in the air between them was so raw and intense. They were the center of each other’s universe. But it wasn’t what he had with Flicker—this was something stronger, darker. He felt a quiver of fear.
    Kelsie cross-faded into a new, stronger beat, like she was responding to the sudden passion on the dance floor. People cheered, and connections started to melt together as they fell in with the rhythm, the crowd beast reforming.
    Good. Maybe these two could repair the damage they’d done by throwing their money around. People were already spilling back onto the floor, whirling to the irresistible music. Thibault found himself bobbing his head in time.
    Chizara took the lights down, following Kelsie’s lead. Nowit was almost black inside the Dish, except for teeth and white T-shirts throwing back the UV light, and a few spotlights slithering over the crowd—
    Then one more shaft of light as the couple began to slowly spin, and their ultrabright connection scythed out, slicing through the room, a fiery blade.
    This wasn’t just love.
    These two were Zeroes.
    The beam of their connection struck Thibault, and he stumbled, all meaning draining from the world.

CHAPTER 6
MOB
    THIS