Emma Place stood bouncing on the balls of her feet – this was about the closest the petite girl ever got to standing still.  Her arms moved, her feet and hands moved, her pretty little head moved.  It was downright annoying to the two other members of ‘The Family’ who stood a ways behind her on the platform.  It was barely after 5 o’clock in the morning and the platform was already bustling with businessmen, market runners, merchants, commuters and servants all rushing off to work.  Emma certainly fit in with the New York scene.<br/><br/>As people bustled past her, whatever money they had in their pockets, wallets, purses or bags would appear in Emma’s little hands as if by magic.  It certainly wasn’t magic and she was no pickpocket.  There wasn’t a magician in The Family that could detect her working and no one ever missed anything, because nothing was ever missing from their pockets – unless a more mundane pickpocket got to them after Emma did.  Emma copied things: everything from fancy jewelry and wads of paper money to sheefs of stocks and bonds or knives and guns.<br/><br/>She often wondered on how it was she could perceive the things she couldn’t even see.  Her best – and only plausible – explanation was that people’s minds were often fixed on the things they thought valuable and she was somehow attuned to those thoughts.  Now if only she could read people’s minds!  That would be a great gift.  She envied the few telepaths in The Family.  Curiously, they envied her.<br/><br/>Frequently, Emma would saunter over to the man and the woman with whom she was working and stuff little piles of loot into their bags.  Normally they did this once or twice a month at most.  For the past several months, Emma had been plying her trade as frequently as possible, several times a week, now.  It was the best way to collect the massive sums of money Mistress Virginia had ordered.<br/><br/>As the train from Philly thundered into the station, Emma gave up all pretense of working.  They were here, after all, to meet the Mistress.  The people around became harder marks anyway, as if their thoughts had turned to schedules, pressing appointments or anything other than where their valuables were.  This was a good moment for regular thieves.<br/><br/>A screech of brakes was followed by billows of steam.  The busy New Yorkers didn’t wait politely for the train passengers to debark, they fairly rushed the doors, eager to get the best seats or cabins.  But they could not bully their way through Washington Hale.  The giant man had rarely to actually use his strength to make way through a crowd.  No, People naturally got the Hell out of his way.  The moment Emma saw him she squealed and raced toward him.  Weighing next to nothing, she could not muscle her way through the throng, so she nimbly dodged around people with the speed and agility of a small bird.<br/><br/>“Chickadee!” bellowed Hale as Emma took a running leap into his open arms.  He held her up and swung her around in a wide circle, her feet pelting several people on their elbows or upper arms during their spinning embrace.  No one dared complain, they only moved further away.<br/><br/>“Look at you!” Hale said, setting the tiny girl down and holding her at arms length.  “Your hair is darker,” he added.<br/><br/>“I know,” she said.  “The sun never reaches the streets of this blasted city.”  She pulled a long lock of reddish-gold hair around to stare at it for a moment.  “How was Texas?  God, I miss Texas.  Where’s Miss V.?  Is she here?”<br/><br/>She would have gone on and on had not Hale stopped her.  Normally the girl’s frantic energy always amused Hale, but he was not smiling now.  “Yes, she’s here and she wants to see you before she gets off of the train.”  Even the ever oblivious Emma could not miss the man’s change of mood.  She craned her long, slender neck to see the other Family members, but Hale gently turned her toward the car’s door, “Just you for now,” he said.  She had completely missed his subtle signal to the others to wait.<br/>