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He decided he might as well give them one. As a little party favor, so they all felt good about their roles here today.

When the next big knot of tourists came in the door, heedless and loud, he hurled himself at Carter. There was no contest. The other man had spent too long behind a desk, counting his money, and it showed. Jonas was on him, his knife at a kidney from the back, ready and waiting for the first opportunity to gut Carter like a pig.

“Empty your pockets,” Jonas ordered him. “Now.”

He heard Templeton’s voice in the background, and while he couldn’t hear the words, he knew that tone. It was crowd control. If he had to guess, Fed and SWAT control.

“I don’t care if everybody dies,” Carter threw at him, all bravado.

But he yelped when Jonas pressed the knife against him, the blade so sharp it easily went through the layers of his sweatshirt and pricked into his flesh.

“You talk a big game.” Jonas spoke directly into the other man’s ear, holding him so it looked like an intense conversation, nothing more. “You think if you watch enough movies it might make you something you’re not. You think if you swagger around enough it will make you what you couldnever become on your own. But the truth is, you’re a coward. Just a coward.”

“Says the man who let a dumb bitch rescue him.”

“She’s good at that,” Jonas said with dark intent, and had to fight his own urge to end this right now.

He had to fight to keep his hand steady and not let his grief make him anything less than what he was. Not that he cared—but he knew she would, if she knew.

If she lived.

You killed me.

Jonas forced himself to talk. Not act. “She’s so good at all the things you pretend to be that she makes you look pathetic. And deep down, you know it.” His voice was low. Insinuating. “You know exactly what kind of low-life disgrace you really are. And you’re worse than most, Carter. Kerrigone. Whoever you are. You weren’t satisfied with all the double-crossing and murder when you were nothing but a gun for hire. You had to run off and up the game. Now you think you can kill innocent people and profit from it.”

The other man shook with rage. “There’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

“You disgust me,” Jonas said with quiet menace. “You seem to be under the impression that because I’m not a lowlife like you, I won’t kill you. You’re reading me all wrong, friend. I have enough honor to know when extermination is the only solution for a cockroach who just won’t die.”

He stuck the knife in, just a little bit deeper.

And had the distinct thrill of listening to the other man hiss in pain.

Fun as all this was, time was running out. It was almost certainly too late for him, not that he cared to pay attention to the messages his body was sending him. That he was warmer than he should have been. That he wasn’t as steady as he usually was. Worse, he didn’t know what Sowande’s sister had done to Bethan. It could be all over by now.

But Jonas didn’t accept that. He couldn’t.

He shoved Carter forward, knowing that to the untrained eye, they looked like friends who were roughhousing a little. He even grinned to show it was all in good fun.

It wasn’t.

Carter hit the balustrade, and as he did, Jonas employed one of the few skills he’d acquired in his childhood. The pickpocketing his parents had made him learn when he was a lot more feral than he felt now.

He shifted back, glancing down at his hand. One syringe. And what looked like an aerosol tube of colorless air. It didn’t take a genius to figure out which was which.

“Now what,” Carter snarled at him, hauling himself around to face Jonas. “You understand what you’re holding in your hand, don’t you?”

Jonas bared his teeth. “I do.”

“Are you really going to try to convince me that you’re altruistic?” The other man laughed. “Give me a break. I’ve known guys like you my whole life.”

“I sincerely doubt that,” Jonas said.

“So moral. All about the high ground. But when push comes to shove, and it always does, you choose the easy way just like anyone else.” Carter jerked his chin at the items in Jonas’s hand. “Do you have any idea how much either one of those things would go for on the open market?”

Jonas assumed his expression was lethal when the other man flinched. “I don’t care.”

“If you take that antidote, you’ll live,” Carter sneered. “But your girlfriend is already dead. Is that really what you want?”