Shan didn't wait to find out. She slipped back into the hallway and looked for the next demonstration room. To hide. She needed her cover to last until she recovered the animals, and One-eye would certainly recognize her if he got close enough. When you fought someone as much as they'd fought, you could recognize them by the shape of their fist or the curve of their mouth when they snarled. The next door was closed. Shan opened it, stepped inside, and quietly closed it behind her. "Ah, Miss Westin," Ashton said from the room's stage, "there's an empty seat up front if you'd like to join us." Ashton wore a long-sleeved kung-fu suit that looked more like molten gold than the gorgeous silk from which it was sewn. He had pulled his black hair from his face and captured it into one long ponytail that hung to the middle of his back. Three other men and one woman stood onstage next to him, and were therefore essentially invisible. The room was also packed with people. Men in suits, women in tasteful pearls and understated dresses.
