She glanced at Ryuu who, despite his bravery in the fight, appeared tense and shaken now. But when she caught his eyes, he fixed his face into a hard mask.

“That won’t interfere with our agreement, will it?”

“Not at all,” she said in a flat voice. “We should go.”

Before someone else tries to kill me, she thought.

She tried to ease her nerves as they walked Raurie to where the hills began to dip down into the Stacks. They’d killed or injured half of the Red Jackals gang. That would place some fear in their bones for a while. But once they recovered from the shock and bolstered their numbers, they’d come after her, and they wouldn’t mess up again. For now, at least, she’d bought herself enough time to visit Raurie’s aunt and use the tracking spell to find Kouta.

She no longer had a home. She had no guarantee that she wouldn’t be on the streets by tomorrow.

She didn’t have Kohl to protect her. The loss of him—not only his protection, but his respect, and the hope that he might think of her as more than an employee one day—was nearly a tangible ache in her heart. Dreams of standing at his side, of no longer having to hide what she felt, trickled away, taking her bravery with them.

Her life had changed completely in the span of a day, and the mere thought of it made her head spin. Teo would say she could stay with him, but that only made her wonder how long it would take him to get sick of her; how long it would take him to abandon her, like Kohl had.

The sounds of rats skittering and quiet movements in alleys commanded the night as she, Teo, and Ryuu made their way to Teo’s apartment under the light of the full moons. Halfway there, Aina paused, her eyes trailing down one particular street. If she was careful, no one there would recognize her. Only for a few hours, to clear her head, and then she’d get back to the job.

“I’ll meet you later,” she said in a low voice, and then left before either of them could ask where she was going.

18

Aina pulled her hood over her head and walked down the street. Voices from people speaking in Milano at a corner reached her ears. She understood some of it, but not all, and tightened her hood around her head to shield her features, her copper skin, her black hair, so no one would try to speak to her in Milano and realize she barely knew the language anymore. Milano citizens were a minority of Kosín’s population, but they’d formed a small community on this street and the surrounding blocks. It was always strange returning and feeling like she both belonged here and didn’t.

She soon reached a house at the end of the street, one she didn’t acknowledge on a daily basis, but which was always there for her when she needed it.