“Kohl!” she whispered before ducking in case he might fire at her. But he merely looked up, his blue eyes latching on to her without any hint of surprise, as if he’d known she was there the whole time.

Once she walked toward Kohl, Aina nudged Mazir’s body with her foot. Just like that, one of their own was gone. No one in the Dom would speak of Mazir again after learning that Kohl had killed him. Every time they’d ever joked or worked together evaporated into distant memory. Blank eyes stared up at her, declaring, Screw up and you’ll be next.

“What did he do?” she whispered, pushing loose hair behind her ear and trying not to picture Mazir’s body being carried on the barge toward the mass graves in the south.

Kohl pointed to one of the other bodies. “He’s the one who gave the baker information. They were both at the casino together, Mazir drank a bit too much firebrandy and spilled some secrets. Tannis found out that it was him.”

Aina briefly wondered what secrets Mazir had told the baker, and which of those the baker had sold to the Jackals, but kept the question to herself. Kohl would only tell her that if he wanted to. Too much curiosity would make him distrust her, and then he might become suspicious of her own secrets.

When Kohl holstered his gun, he bent to confiscate some kors from the dead men’s pockets. He was close; close enough that she could see the crease of his shirt along the muscles of his back, close enough to smell the sweat on him and feel the heat from his body.

There was an odd tension between them, one partially fueled by the challenges of their job and by … something she hadn’t quite experienced before. It was admiration multiplied by the competition to always be the best. Her body didn’t seem to know the difference between that and the strange heat between them now. What was this push-and-pull dynamic that always kept them just inches away from each other? Did he feel it too, or was it all in her head?

She shoved down those thoughts. If Kohl could keep emotions and impulse out of his work, then so could she. If she wanted to prove herself to be more valuable to him than Mazir ever was, then she had to be flawless in killing Kouta Hirai.

“Tonight is the night,” she said, meeting his gaze with nothing but confidence.

“For your Hirai hit?” Kohl nodded slowly, pride tinging his voice. “You know why I picked you, right? I see a lot of my own ambition in you. You can do this. Good luck, Aina.”

He walked by her, their shoulders touching briefly. Then he disappeared down the alley without a glance back.

“I don’t want luck,” she whispered to the dead men.

Minutes later, after a few more shortcuts, Aina reached a burlesque theater on Lyra Avenue. Teo stood off to the side with a bag in hand, his shoulders hunched against the cold wind blowing through a gap in the buildings.