"Perhaps in a closet, then, if you can select a target with that much fineness."

"I wouldn't be able to fit both of us. But... The hallway outside their door should be empty."

"After you, then.  As it were."

Ze nods - 

And the world spins into colors, then unravels into an unremarkable hallway, thin carpet beneath their feet, walls mostly clean except for a few water stains near the ceiling.

There's a few doors off of it, but Tyrannissa gestures to a particular one. White painted wood, unassuming.

He and Bast both can move very quietly.  No putting on a show today: his movements, his demeanor, are optimized for stealth and efficiency.  Gently, gently, turning the doorknob and easing the door open, cautious of creaking hinges.

There's a woman, reading on her desktop computer, headphones over her ears and gaze currently turned away from him.

Bast peers around silently, looking for her daemon.

A fennec fox has one ear poking out of a nest of blankets near her feet. 

There is a knife at the woman's throat, now, and a paw pressing down on the fox's blankets.  Both are told, quietly, not to scream.

She freezes, eeps, and the fox squirms then goes still. "Who - who are - who are you?" she asks, voice shaking and not loud but rising in pitch in a way that might be uncharitably misinterpreted.

"My name is Thomas," he says, and he slits her throat.

She gurgles, tries to scream but can't - 

And collapses, blood spurting from her carotid and painting the walls and soaking the floor.

Her fox has enough time to start a shrill alarm before dissolving.

Tyrannissa steps into the room.

"Time to go, I think," he says, contorting his face into unsettling unrecognizability in case someone else follows.

"Yes."

And the world dissolves again, depositing them back next to Decima.

"Have fun?" she asks.

"The fun part comes in a few weeks, when the whole continent is hysterical."

"Oh, that'll be delightful! Though it might take some time to filter all the way through the networks. But I suppose if we make enough of a splash..."

"My thoughts exactly."

"Do you want to move the body to the roof, or leave it?"

"It may be unwise to try to re-enter.  The dead woman's daemon managed to sound the alarm, unfortunately."

"Pity. Should we be moving on, then? I do believe we are done for the night..."

"Yes, let's."

Dolores, having finished resting (mostly), takes off, and flits them back to just out of sight of the current hideout. 

He smiles.  "A good day's work."