The Hard Place (Marco)

Something had happened.

A lot of things had happened, actually, starting with the man gargling on his own blood at my feet.

"What are your orders?" Selare asked, looking down at the body. Katarina stepped back before any blood could get on her and scrunched her nose up with distaste.

"Leave him." She turned to head back into the building, and the rest of us followed, spreading out before we entered the gambling hall. I could still see her, the mask she wore, eyes scanning the room as she walked down the steps with graceful flair, her hips rolling with the powerful strides of a tigress.

Her dark eyes were trained on Rolando the moment she saw him, and even with the distance between them, Katarina's vision followed his every movement like a predator stalking its kill for the night.

She'd meant what she'd told me. At least it took an argument to get one version of honesty out of her.