Deanna leaned against the wall, tugging absently at the glove that encased her hand.
The lights reflecting of the disco ball pulsed over her body, the music throbbing in her skull. She shifted, her bare back scraping lightly on the rough wall as the bangles around her wrist rang.
"Do you see them yet?"
She shook her head, her dark eyes piercing through the darkness of the dancefloor. Every detail was open to her; the sweat glistening on the dancers' bodies, the flowing waves of hair, the thrashing arms and legs.
Blake swore beside her, running a hand through his charcoal hair.
In her bag, her phone vibrated.
It was at her ear in seconds.
"What is it?"
"Can you see the subject?"
"Yes," Deanna replied coldly, her eyes fixing on one figure.
"Kill her."
With a nod, Deanna snapped the phone shut. She turned to Blake, who grinned, darting into the mass of bodies.
Sliding the phone into her handbag, Deanna stepped forward, her heels silent on the glistening floor.
She weaved across the dancefloor, until she was behind the girl.
Her golden hair glowed in the darkness like a beacon, floating around her head as she bobbed to the beat.
Deanna's hand slipped into her bag, her dark fingers closing around a handle.
"Murder on the dancefloor," she muttered under her breath, before throwing the dagger.
It hit the girl in the back, driving between her ribs to pierce her pulseless heart.
Screams pierced the air as the girl crumpled to the floor, but Deanna had already moved.
Her feet pounded on the concrete walkway as she ran, Blake behind her.
Her black hair streamed in the soft wind as her brown skin gleamed in the moonlight.
The two ducked down an alleyway, diving behind a dumpster as police cars screamed past, their lights flashing.
"You hit her?" Blake asked.
"Between the ribs," Deanna replied, peeking around the corner. "Couldn't have missed."
"Come on, let's go," Blake ordered, navigating around trash as he entered deeper into the alley.