Unconsciously, he bared his teeth, the sharp edges of his canines al- ready beginning to show. Too bad it couldn’t be a cleaner fight. But he hadn’t succumbed to his particular curse in so long, and this night-well, these bastards deserved it.
Cade stood up. He wore leather armor stained black, a bow in one hand, various other weapons strapped on tightly. Targ pushed his chair back and faced the other. He wore only an old faded kilt, his sword strapped to his back. The two clasped arms.
“I’ll take the others out,” Targ said. “None will escape.” Cade gave him a hard smile.
“Good hunting,” he said softly. Targ’s face twisted for a moment at Cade’s choice of words, but the bloodlust was on him and he was eager to go. Neither said anything to Raif as Cade opened the door and they moved into the night. Raif stared at the open doorway for several min- utes. Then he, too, got up and walked into the night’s embrace.
Cade moved through the shadows to the waterfront district, taking care that no one followed him. The meeting was set up in a large ware- house there. The streets were quiet tonight. The moon was waning and a light cloud cover shielded the starlight- It was a perfect night for death.
There were four of the Sharp Side on outside guard duty, one on the roof, two in front, and one in the back. They were well hidden, but they moved about a lot. Sloppy. They were getting arrogant in their success. It was only a matter of time until someone took them out.
The one on the roof was first and easiest. An arrow through the eye killed him instantly. No one heard the body fall. Cade moved to the roof, looking down on the dark silhouettes of the two guards in front. Another bolt, through the neck, and one was down. The second heard something. He didn’t move. Smart.