Just two more breaths. Just two more lives.

That mantra repeats in my head as I walk through the SkyTunnels. Glass and steel suspend me in the air, and when I peer through the floor underfoot, it looks like I'm floating over the streets. Colorful lights glare into the darkness, emanating onto my path. Few people pass by, and those that do are either too busy talking together to notice me. Those walking alone take one glance at my all-black attire, my face shrouded by a dark hood, and scurry past.

People fear the Elyminai. One doesn't have to ask for credentials to shrink from one of us on the street. Most think it's safer to hurry by, pretending they didn't see the cyber assassin.

The tunnel splits in two, and I take the one on the left. My watch projects a 3D map above my wrist with a blinking dot indicating my location. The dot approaches a smaller, off-shoot building atop a larger high-rise. After several more paces, I slip through a side door into a dark corridor, lit only by the holographic light emanating from my watch.

I zoom in on the image and examine the route to Twin Brothers' bank. Around the bend, another door should connect me to the bank's entrance. Lucky for me, I don't have to worry about locks since the bank closes at midnight.

The door opens behind me. I slink into the shadows, turning my back on the person entering. My cape allows me to blend into my background. I steal a glance at a woman striding down the corridor in a short work dress. Her heels click all the way to the door, pause, then continue down the hallway.

Tension eases in my muscles, and I start down the hallway in the same direction. When I round the corridor, I am faced with the bank's transparent door. The woman stands at the counter, talking with a man with a reddish beard. If my research serves me correctly, that would be Max.

Irritation pricks at my skin. Who comes to the bank right before closing, at eleven fifty-four at night? It just belabors this job that I despise.

Perhaps she's sent by Argon. Though a smaller, family-run enterprise, the Twin Brothers' bank holds some of Gang Two's money, which is the entity that owns The CryoFuture Corporation. In that sense, I feel less guilty about doing a job here. It might not dent Argon's funds too much, but every bit helps.

Several minutes pass. I press myself against the wall, melding into the dark corridor.

Fifty-seven. Fifty-eight. Fifty-nine.

She's seriously going to stay in there until closing time. I sigh, resigned to my hiding spot. At this point, it's obvious that this woman was sent by Argon. The bankers wouldn't have the patience for anyone else holding up their closing time.

Seconds start their countdown to midnight, then keep ticking beyond. A click emanates from the door, an automatic time lock that seals the doors from the outside upon closing time. I'm stuck here until the woman leaves.

Max steps away from the counter, disappearing into the vault behind him. The woman looks down at her wrist, then glances around the room. Her eyes land past the door, on something in the hallway.

They land right on the shadows I'm hiding in, lingering several beats too long.

A frown twitches at my brow. She shouldn't be able to see me. No one should be able to see me. That's the point of wearing this cloak.

I grind my teeth together, trying to figure out what to do. I had only planned on making two kills tonight, but I can't leave any witnesses. There's a chance she didn't see me, yet it's a chance I refuse to take.

My eyes flit to the doorknob, the now locked doorknob. Just one more inconvenience to hold me up tonight. I remove the uncharged port from my belt, and as soon as the woman faces Max again, I place it against the door.

The locks pops. All eyes whip to the door. I stalk in, drawing my dagger from my belt.

"No one move," I say. Max places his hands in the air. But the woman just stares at me.

"Cyber assassin 196197," she says. Her voice is soft with a sweet coating, but her words ring strange in my ears.

I can't dwell on it. My hand darts to the pocket in my cape, and I fling a serrated metal disk at her. While it flies at her jugular vein, I leap for Max. He scrambles under the desk, and I land atop it. A crack splits the air, and a jolt of pain sears my spine.

"Who sent you?" the woman asks behind me, her voice still sugar-coated.

I shake off the pain, glancing behind. She should be dead. But no, she stands behind me, holding the disk in her palm while her other hand holds a gun. Slowly, her fist crunches the metal together.

A fist flies at my head in my peripheral. I duck from Max's blow as another few pellets wiz by. I toss a disk at his neck. This one hits true, slicing through flesh. He falls backward, hands grasping at the wound while blood seeps between his fingers. An ear-piercing scream fills the room.

"Max? Everything okay?" a deep voice calls from the other room.

Electric pellets assault the air behind me. I dive behind the desk, my cape deflecting most, through a few fiery pricks burrow into my skin.Max's fearful eyes stare at me from where he's slumped on the floor. I plunge my dagger into his chest, finishing the job. He gasps, and I press a finger to my belt, capturing his last exhale in its suction mechanism. His body falls limp.

Heels run toward me, and I retrieve my pulse gun. I peek out from under the desk, firing the weapon at the woman. She dodges each electric charge that zaps through the air and sends her own back at me.

"Pax, I suggest you run," she says.

Dardroids. The other twin is going to run for it. I have to kill this woman before she lets him get away. Either that, or die trying.

But I can't die yet, a voice whispers in my head. If I die, who will find Stellae?

She might already be dead, a darker voice reminds me.

I silence both with a toss of another metal disk. It zooms through the air, bouncing off the woman's hand that holds the gun. Realization dawns: she's a robot. This is a first.

I draw another voltage stealer from my pocket, then leap over the desk. Pax is steps away from the door. I fire my pulse gun at him while ducking a shot from the robot. I hurl a voltage stealer toward the running robot. Pax still crawls toward the door, but with blood oozing onto his white shirt from his neck, it'll take him longer. The voltage stealer misses the robot by a hair, so I hurl another. Two suctions latch onto her bare arm.

The robot keeps firing pulses at me. Gold light arcs around me as I deflect each shot. For some reason, the voltage stealer isn't working. Adrenaline pumps in my veins, allowing me to both focus on the fight and calculate my next move. My eyes land on Pax, who's almost to the door.

With the robot's shots, there's no way for me to get in range of killing Pax and capturing his final breath. It's one or the other. But I didn't take this job for one or the other.

Max. I dart behind the desk once more, dragging his limp body upward to create a shield. My arms scream from the effort, but I force myself to run for the door, dragging the body along with me. The corpse shudders as each blast lands on it, but I make it just before Pax's hand closes around the knob. I stab him in the heart, sealing his last breath away as well.

My attention returns to the robot, now hovering by the vault. My employer's words ring through my head. Not only must I kill, but I must scatter money across the floor. Only a robot stands in my way of finishing the job.

I lunge for her. My dagger turns at all angles, blocking an onslaught of electric pellets. A few burn through my long-sleeved shirt, searing my arms. I grit my teeth against each shock to my skin. As long as I protect my chest and head, I'll survive.

A pulse heads straight for my skull. I dive for the floor, firing the pulse gun in my hand. The dart lands in the robot's chest. In a last twist of surprise, the robot convulses, dropping to the floor.

Normally, robots are impervious to little electric shots. Some are even fueled by them. So this robot is either very strange or is trying to fake its own death.

I race to the vault, dropping a dead port on the robot's body.

Nothing happens. The port doesn't charge. I frown, moving the port from the robot's back to the shoulder. Seconds later, a green light flashes once on the port: charged.

My brow creases. A cyborg then, not a robot. I place two fingers on the woman's neck. It feels warm, like skin, and the slightest pulse beats under my fingertips. I could leave her there, unconscious, while I finish the job. She may die before someone finds her, or she could have one more chance at life.

Leave no witnesses.

My dagger plunges into its third heart for the night.