When I looked up, he was staring at me, smiling.

He fingered the necklace while I watched, touching it almost reverently with a ring-clad hand, and I knew then, that he'd seen me looking at it, and moreover, that he'd wanted me to see it. His eyes bored into mine, and I distinctly got the impression he was enjoying the fact that he'd unsettled me.

I took a step back, instinctively looking for Jon. But the crowd was too deep for me to find him way over by the bar.

"Are you following me, man?" I said.

I managed to keep my voice even, but I was genuinely freaked. Had SCARB decided I was some kind of sympathizer? Maybe they thought I had prior knowledge of that seer, because I ran into her and then I was defending her?

Seeing something in my eyes, the man held up a hand, as if to reassure me.

"Relax, Ms. Taylor," he said. "...I'm not here to arrest you, I promise."

I stared at him, trying to make sense of the necklace, of the note that morning and then the arrested seer. Jon said religious whackos wrote that note. Was this guy one of them?

The man raised his voice to be heard over the band once more.

"There is no reason to be alarmed, Ms. Taylor." He smiled again. "We simply seem to be destined to cross paths today, it seems..."

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"Right," I said, half-shouting back. "Sure." I stared up at him, my hands on my hips. Fighting to keep my unease off my face and out of my voice, I looked around, hoping a familiar face might appear. "So what's on the menu tonight?" I said. "Plan to taser any more girls? Or did you fulfill your quota for today?"

The man surprised me by laughing, clasping his hands behind his back.

"Very good." He smiled wider, his eyes holding that amused condescension. "They said you were spunky. I'm glad to see they were right, for a change."

I detest the word 'spunky.' I mean, I really, really hate it.

I caught that "they said" crap, too. He was definitely screwing with me.

I held out a hand, motioning towards his jacket. "I want to see some credentials. Now. Or I'm registering a complaint with the police."

"For what?" The man smiled wider. "For talking to you?"

"For stalking me," I snapped. "...For acting creepy. I'll show them your cute little note, too. Everyone loves a good religious fanatic, it's true, but you still don't have the right to prosthelize...especially not Third Myth, which last I knew was illegal to preach, even for SCARB assholes who like beating on girls. They might even get you for terrorism, if they like you even half as much as I do..."




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