Zora Salazar was pretty darn good at her job, but it still frustrated her to no end when she failed. She could have a streak going the whole dang year and just one little slip-up would send her into a fit of rage. The only person to calm her? Yoomtah Zing. She was never completely zen after the little electric gremlin laughed it off with her, but it did make her feel better.

She had failed again. For some odd reason, Yoomtah decided to bring her to a hotel in Sweet Jazz City to blow off some steam away from the forest. She didn’t understand why the girl wanted her to actually sleep like a civilized human for once instead of the fresh forest like every night, but she always seemed a bit crazy in Zora’s eyes. Or maybe Zora was the crazy one and didn’t know it.

The place was nice. Zing and Salazar were both making bank from their assassinations, so they were able to afford almost anything. The room was way too fancy for her liking, with its white walls having mounted televisions, two big fluffy beds, and a kitchenette and bathroom attached to the main room. She would’ve much preferred to just sleep on the floor, but Yoomtah insisted she sleep on the bed, her second worst enemy, the first being showers.

“This place’s crap. Why d’ya like these types’a rooms again? I practically sink six feet deep inta the bed. And ain’t no one need this much luxury. I mean, ‘less yer on yer deathbed and wanna already be headin’ on ya way to Hell through the mattress.”

She hesitantly touched the comforter on the bed, almost like it’d swallow her up if she wasn’t gentle. She wasn’t used to anything like this, having grown accustomed to the dirt and leaves outside in the forest she loved.