Greyson leaned against the back wall of the bar watching those around him. He remained completely invisible to all those in the club. And in this case he didn’t even need to try. It was a quiet night as the Reeve looked about, counting the entrances and exits. Watching the Men and Women as the walk, talk and interact with each other.

Little touches. The women reach out and touch the men’s arms as they laugh. The men brush a hair out of the face of the women. The Exchange of comfort through small actions.

Conner watched the men to see how they carried themselves. How they would throw around there weight if need be, how well they carried themselves. Gauged who would best carry a weapon and who could use it.

The Regent watched the women, seeing how well they spin there webs. Movements of an arm, the crossing of a leg, Running there fingertips down the nape of there necks. The women manipulate and they do not even know it.

So many things, so many random smashing of atoms and calculations of the probable and improbable. And they don’t even understand what they are doing...

Sheep. They are all Sheep.

The Shadow had reached out with his eyes, now he reached out with his mind. Plucking thoughts as a child pulls flowers. A wish here, a dream there, a nightmare from the back. Little things that seem trivial to some, but to a man like the Reeve, its thoughts and memories that are the currency of the world, not dollars and cents.

He drifts out of the bar leaving nothing in his wake, but for some reason, three people, at three different tables all find they have the same song in there head...

Outside a smallest of smiles peaks out in the corner of the Mekhet’s mouth.