She shook her hand and drops of blood were scattered across the floor.

It hadn't been a clean job. Usually, she only left evidence–like blood–when they needed to make it look like an accident. But this? This was a total mess. You didn't need to be a professional to notice the intent of killing in his injuries. Not that it was her fault, of course. Once again, a job that was supposed to be a piece of cake, ruined by her partner in crime, if he deserved such name.

—Nice, Eight. Just...nice—she said, carrying the corpse to the back alley. —Do us both a favor and keep your eyes peeled now.

—Hey, don't call me that. It's rude, okay?

They had a numerical system in their company. When you're on the kill or be killed business you have two options: have a fake name, or be too good to need one. The better assassin you are, the higher rank you have. Those skilled enough to be on top ten were pretty much considered killing machines. But Josh (Eight) had never liked the names, he thought that being called by numbers made them feel less human. She disagreed. The boss had had a brilliant idea with the numbers. It made them more competitive, more efficient. And why would she want to feel more...humanity? They killed for a living. If he wanted to feel better with himself at night, he should have become a doctor. But they knew what they were doing when they signed up for the job.

—Oh, don't worry—she spat sarcastically as she lit a fire to burn the lifeless body—. After this disaster of a night, I won't have to call you that ever again. I'm pretty sure that the boss will give you a new one. Fifteen, maybe? Twenty? That sounds cute.

—What are you talking about? In any case, I should ask for a promotion. We're snowed under requests every week. The boss is making us work like horses!

Could he be more annoying? Probably not. She was Four, and yet there she was, babysitting a full of beans rookie. Well, not everything about him was bad. He made her laugh with his nonsense sometimes.

—You'll have to pull your socks up next time, Josh.

He smiled.

—Yes, ma'am. Can I call you Cassandra?

—If you call me by my real name once again, I'll kill you in your sleep.

—A lovely lady, indeed.

8l