"What am I supposed to do with you, boy?" Moreau asked, looking down at the bound boy. "We had a deal. You kill who I send you to kill and I let that cover your quota. Except this time, you let the target walk. You let me down, Eliot. Do I need to send you out tonight to make up the money you owe me?"

Let the target walk? He hadn't let the man walk. He'd been... There'd been a girl. He hadn't even seen her coming. She'd nearly gotten him killed or arrested. He shook his head, eyes wide. He didn't want to work the streets again. The killing... The killing was bad enough. He trembled almost imperceptibly.