Someone not to be forgotten

They stepped out of the hiding places in the shadows, and I had to turn my back to JJ's so I could face those who came from behind. I counted about fifteen in total around us as I glanced around, men and women, but mostly men, with a tough spread of their shoulders, dressed in denim, leather and camouflage. They looked like a gang, not the sort to do outright illegal business as their main occupation, but one that could, in the right circumstances.

And they all had weapons in hand. Knives, for most of them, but one held an impressive crossbow, loaded and ready. The metal gleamed in the light of the street lamp, showing better than anything the seriousness and the direction of these people's intent.

The sheer coldness of it made me shiver. This coldness wasn't what I saw in the auras of these people, though—no, they were hot and wild. Angry and eager. Ready for violence.