When Lamont left it was without so much as a goodbye. And that was harder for him to do than anyone else in this city - they'd been aware of each other, their minds humming back and forth down a wire that had wrapped around the both of them and never quite stopped reverberating, since they'd first locked eyes in the dim light of the club. Margot had been able to feel the faint sense of him, still alive, still within reach, even if she hadn't quite realised what that sense had been at first - smoke and the taste of steel on her tongue, translated into a faint hum in the background of her thoughts that never quite went away.

And now he'd gone, left her behind without so much as a word, and she was so angry that she might just set something on fire and so hurt that she could feel the mirror in her room straining to crack under the force of it. How could he? Not just her, but everyone in his net of agents, everyone who'd risked something for the Shadow, however small...

...well. Clearly someone had to take up where Lamont had left off, and when he got back, there would be a new Shadow in town - even if no-one but Moe could tell under her disguise.