---
She killed one. She disemboweled another. She slipped the blood lash.
But Raka's spike still drove into her thigh.
It was not deep. But enough to matter.
Her face changed at last.
That pleased him.
At the other side, the dark-clothed man finally drew his real weapon fully. A thin black blade that had stayed mostly hidden before. The moment it came free, three lesser vampires died almost together. One across the throat. One through the mouth. One opened from shoulder to chest. The weapon was better than his earlier knife. Much better. That explained something. He had been holding back part of his real edge because he had not thought the market dogs were worth it.
Now he did.
Too late.
Raka shouted, "Press them. Don't let them breathe."
