Adonis was gone. Kasumi was too. Just in very different ways. Her pulse was pounding in her skull and even as Adonis fled she didn't move from her frozen sightline above the dead girl's body.
Do I have to look at her?
Dead. She was dead. She hadn't moved since the shot. Katarina had actually done it. She'd killed someone. There was some expectation that something was going to change in her after first kill. Her mind would sharpen and her emotions would dull and her instincts would flare up and she'd become the sort of person who could survive this. Because of course she was going to survive this. The quietly terrifying thing, though, was that nothing changed at all. She didn't feel any different between the moment before she pulled the trigger, the moment the bullet hit, and the moment she realized she'd killed someone. There were only two ways to interpret that.
I don't need to check.
Either nothing had changed and she still wasn't the sort of person who could survive this, or she had always been the sort of person who could do this and there was nothing new for her to absorb in Kasumi's death.
The answer is so obvious.
KK didn't have to think too long about which one it was. Every person she'd come in contact with already knew. That's why they were terrified of her. Their actions told the same story again and again whether they were aware of it or not. Only Irene had held any ignorant hope that Katarina wasn't the last person she was going to see, and she'd quickly disabused her of that notion.
So goes the chain of ascension.
Yes. There. Not on them.
Despite the fact that she'd been looking at Kasumi the whole time, she never really looked her over. And as she turned to collect her bag and leave, that callous part of her chimed in to explain that she-it-wasn't worth the effort. It was just a thing that had died, like a deer on the side of the road, and there was no need for her to waste the energy to prod and dwell when there was so much more to be done. It was a good enough excuse. It sounded like something the sort of person who survived this should think.
I can't be wrong.
KK shouldered her bag and held her gun tight as she walked away, trying to pretend she had no interest in the body behind her and that she really had already forgotten her-, no, its- name.
Don't let them in.
next target sighted.