" My captor grabbed me, digging his gloved fingers into my cheeks. His bloody gloved fingers. “I'm an assassin. I'm whatever the job necessitates.”
I could smell the blood; it smelled like old, dirty pennies. “Then you're a whore.”
“I'm a mercenary.”
“What's the difference?” I spat. “You sell your body for money and you have no morals. "

― Nenia Campbell , Cloak and Dagger (The IMA, #1)