"A little over one hundred souls, by my estimate. As you grow, as you practice, you can broaden the amount of data you're willing to receive without doing yourself harm. In a high density city like this, you needn't reach further than a block to find a viable mark. But, for now, a building."

The book is kept balanced on his lap, Armand gazing up at the structure, casting out his awareness. There is no chance of overlap. They will not be able to feel each other drifting over the same minds. They will make do.

Armand has, for now, disconnected from any sense of appropriateness. Who they are to each other, the things they have done—his sins, titanically outweighing the ways Daniel has transgressed against him, and the ways in which those sins were done. It doesn't matter. Daniel has dared him.

"I find the one who can't stand to be in the place they are in," eventually. "Or the one who thinks they can never leave it. I take my time, doing it. And then I invite them out."

That old refrain. Come to me.