around the street people. None of them seemed to be the source, but somehow they’d been near the source, and not very long ago. Eric guessed the Nexus point in the Park hadn’t been started more than a day or so—the timing of its building coincided perfectly with his dream—and the traces he was following would fade away completely in another day or so.
Cold weather to be on the streets, Eric thought, watching an old man pushing along a grocery cart full of bits and pieces of unnameable junk. A Sidhe Lord down here. Now THAT’s culture clash.
The contrast between the busy, purposeful shoppers—all of whom had homes to go to—and the shabby homeless that cowered back from them like hungry ghosts was jarring. He didn’t remember there being so many street people the last time he’d been in New York—hell, he didn’t remember there being any, but the Upper East Side tended to run them out of the area pretty rigorously. He’d gotten used to seeing them in the last few weeks—as used as you could get, anyway—but as he headed east, he realized that the ones in his neighborhood were just the tip of the iceberg. As he