It was nights like these that made Nina question why she stayed in Las Vegas. She could find her way back to Russia and resume the life she had once had. She could throw herself headfirst into Europe and allow herself to enjoy the postwar joviality that had embraced the world. Instead, she was resting her fingers against the greasy temples of a man in the backroom of a gentlemen's club. She could sense the tension in him without even using the Small Science. It was understandable; the atmosphere of the club always made a certain type of man feel small. It helped influence them to spend more money on the girls to feel larger.

"Like Mr. Bogart in Casablanca, ma'am," the earnest, but oily man said. He was adorable in a pigeon way, but unoriginal. Nina knew every inch of his story before he had opened his mouth. He had hit a winning streak and heard of "the dame in the Rose" who could change his fortune with the ladies. Nina saw about five of these men a week. They were looser with their money than they should be and would go home with nothing by the end of the end of their stay.

Humphrey Bogart he was not. But, Nina came to Vegas for the waters, so she could allow him this daydream.

She couldn't do anything about the shine of his hair, but she could define his jaw and pull away the pockmarks from his face. A thick band of tissue stretched from below his cheekbone to reach just shy of his nose. The off-putting scar smoothed back into his skin until it was barely visible, but was still discernible. Nina excelled at most things, but could admit to herself that Tailoring had never been one of her strongest points.

Once she was finished, the scuffed mine worker sitting in her room did seem a changed man. The childlike glimmer in his eyes was still present, but he was imbued with more confidence. He thanked her profusely and left a stack of bills on her table. Promises were made to see her in a few days to upkeep the work, but Nina knew he would be destitute before the Tailoring faded.

Nina left the gaudy room not long after her client. It was creeping up on late, though the term had a different meaning in this city. The sun was a few hours from rising over the mountains bordering the valley, but she had more work to accomplish before she could slip into sleep.

The White Rose was one of the more respected gentlemen's clubs in town. She could walk freely through the halls and downstairs dance area without anticipating anyone grabbing her. Not that they would get far before Nina crushed their windpipe, but the safety was novel. Nina slipped out of a side door leading to an alley. The stifling heat, even in the dead of night, pushed at her face like an oven door opening. Still, she pulled a thin black scarf over her hair and allowed her face to be cast in shadow. No matter the safety she found at the club or the retribution promised by the Dregs should harm come to her, it was dangerous to parade down Fremont with the rumors of the Witch in the Rose swirling about.

Nina slipped down the busy street taking no notice of the cacophony that surrounded her. Hawkers called out to passersby, eager to pull in a few more tourists. Shrieking laughter from groups of girls in heels that didn't fit echoed off the brick of the buildings. Horns honked as cars swerved around pigeons too stupid or too drunk to realize they had wandered into the street. Music layered disastrously from every club, creating white noise in the volume. Nina edged around shouting couples, lost tourists, and rough-looking cops. Business as usual on crowd was diminished from what it had been hours ago, but there was always someone looking for that next rush. She ignored the shouting and music to step to a discrete door against a black wall. Nina rapped her knuckles in a precise rhythm tap tap-tap, tap tap-tap-tap. The bulbous eyes of Bolliger peered out at her from the hidden slot in the door.

"I am all in a sea of wonders," Nina said to his threatening stare. Leave it to Kaz Brekker to use a line from some dramatic horror story as a passphrase.

The door swung open and Nina stepped into the member's only area of the Crow Club. A ragtag group waited for her in the appointed meeting room. Kaz Brekker leaned against the wall, cane in hand. He looked like the villain of every childhood fairytale come to life: sharp lines, dark eyes, and a mask of a face. In contrast, Wylan van Eck sitting stiffly on the sofa could be the hero. His boyish curls and full cheeks looked at odds with the other killers and thieves in the room. Nina, however, knew Wylan was not as angelic as he appeared. You only need to watch someone pour a poison into a cocktail that will cause the drinker's blood to clot in their veins once before you learned how dangerous they were. Jesper Fahey sprawled across the couch with one of his pistols in hand, seeming almost liquid in his comfort. A quick tap on her shoulder revealed the final player in this meeting. Inej Ghafa slipped past Nina with a small smile. The tiny girl was one of Nina's only friends and having her here brought a relief she was unable to fully comprehend. Nina sank into a loveseat next to Inej and looked expectantly at Kaz.

"Now that everyone's here, we can address tonight's business," he began, rapping his cane against the floor. Nina resisted rolling her eyes at his dramatics. "I've been contacted about a job. Namely, a recovery."

Jesper sat upright and shot Kaz a curious look. "A recovery? Why not let the enforcers handle that? You don't need us to track down someone who's skipped out on their debt."

Nina noticed that the entire group seemed a little hesitant, aside from Inej. She probably knew more about what was going on in that black hole Kaz called a brain than any of them. It amused Nina to watch the pair of them dance about, or circle like wolves as Jesper referred to it one time. She was both curious and mildly afraid of what would happen if one of them stopped flinching.

"This isn't a normal recovery," Kaz said, patient. "We've been offered a very generous paycheck for our services, should we send this man back to where he needs to be."

Nina narrowed her eyes. "How generous?"

"3 million dollars."

"Bullshit, Kaz. No one is just going to hand over that kind of scrub for one man," Jesper drawled. Wylan had paled in his seat.

"Even after Per Haskell gets his cut, that's still $480,000 for each of us," he said incredulously, staring at Kaz.

Jesper shot Wylan a quick wink. "I love it when you do complex math in your head."

"It's not complex," Wylan protested with a blush. "Just divide three-"

Kaz rapped his cane on the ground like a judge attempting to bring a court to order. "Divided six ways, Wylan. $400,000 for each of us."

Nina sat ramrod straight in her seat. There was a gleam in Kaz's eyes she didn't like the look of. It promised nothing but trouble and misery. He glanced at Nina's clenched hands and raised a brow.

"I thought this is what you wanted, Zenik?" he asked, his voice betraying no fear at the Heartrender glaring at him murderously.

"Are you telling me that he didn't have to sit there this whole time?" Her fingers twitched and she had to repress the idea of sealing his windpipe. Knowing Kaz, he had found a way to breathe without it just to spite her.

"He's fine where he is, Nina. It's not as if they're beating him or mistreating him. There hasn't been a good enough reason to burn the bridges and spend the money it's going to take to get Helvar out of prison." Nina started to protest and he held up a gloved hand.

"A good enough reason for me," he added. "I don't run a charity nor am I in the business of cleaning up other people's problems."

Inej lay a cool palm on Nina's tight fist. Her gentle touch seemed to pull the homicidal thoughts right out of Nina, but the fury remained. "Nevermind that breaking into NSP is supposed to be… difficult, but what prisoner is needed for this job?" she asked after Nina had swallowed the hateful words attempting to push their way out.

"One Matthias Helvar," Kaz said, pushing his hair away from his face. Nina had the unkind thought that if he stopped fussing with it, maybe his stupid haircut wouldn't look so bad. "A German soldier locked in Nevada State Prison. We'll need him to round out this crew."

"And what did this man do to get himself locked in Hellgate?" Jesper inquired. "You don't usually find altar boys and saints up there."

Nina's eyes flashed as she focused on Jesper. "Nothing. He did nothing. He has more heart than everyone in this room combined."

"Yourself included?" Kaz asked. He pointed the end of his cane at her. "You're the one who got him put away, Zenik. When listing his virtues, try to remember why he's in this mess."

As Nina lifted her hands from her lap, intent on giving the man a nosebleed to mess up his nice shirt, Wylan cleared his throat. "How are we supposed to break a man out of NSP? No one has managed to escape since Tom Shelby twenty years ago."

Kaz gave Wylan a chilling grin. "Leave that to me."