The Thieves Guild in New Orleans, Louisiana, was well known in this southern American city, whose population was particularly diverse in race, ethnicity, and religion.
Of course, its reputation spread through the underworld, the gray market, and the poorest, most chaotic neighborhoods.
It hadn't taken much effort to get information about Remy LeBeau. With Raven, a naturally perfect spy, all it took was for her to find a suitable identity and spend half a day blending in. She could get all the information they wanted.
"He robbed a bank and then went gambling?"
Alex had thought that his "experience" of having been in a high-security prison made him a rare breed among the tiny mutant population. He hadn't expected someone so lawless, so utterly freewheeling.
"About your age, but way cooler than you!"
Raven teased Alex. She'd always been enthusiastic about and interested in people or things with a rebellious, wild streak.
James had once said that she and Azazel could be classified as a separate "demon" type of mutant. Their traits, from appearance to personality, were exceptionally distinctive.
"Don't corrupt the kid. No, wait—you two are about the same age. What do you make of his ability? It sounds a little ambiguous."
Erik Lehnsherr drove them toward Miami at a furious pace. Once they left the outskirts of New Orleans, they were able to go much faster. The city had originally been built on a swamp, and despite endless road repairs, sinkholes still appeared without warning.
With the local government in such disarray and constantly passing the buck over the problem of subsidence, New Orleans had the worst roads in America.
He couldn't help looking forward to the "mobile" phones his old man had said would become widespread within ten years. Then he'd be able to contact Azazel anytime.