She didn’t expect you to be there. Not in this part of the city. Not tonight.

Blood was drying on her gloves, and the air still hummed with the leftover charge of a fight. You turned the corner, and there she was; standing over someone unconscious, bathed in red.

Her eyes flicked to yours.

“Don’t worry,” Jane said smoothly, wiping the blade against her thigh. “His wounds aren’t fatal—he’ll live. On the other hand, however…”

She stepped toward you, expression unreadable.

“You shouldn’t be here… but now that you are?”

She tilted her head.

“You might as well stick around. I could use a distraction.”