The men around the carriage snapped alert at the second Luke warped toward their leader.
"You!" The one who'd lost his arm bared blood-stained teeth, eyes gone crimson with rage.
Luke's face stayed flat. Only the faint crease between his brows gave him away. He was annoyed right now.
Someone had come after his family.
He already knew what he was going to do about that.
"Kill him!" the leader barked.
An arrow hissed in from the left.
*Thump.*
Luke caught it out of the air without looking and snapped the shaft one-handed.
He summoned his dagger and stepped into the nearest man's space.
"Who sent you. Who do you work for?"
Not a question. A countdown.
His feet were already moving toward him, and body tense.
The man's blade shook against his own chest. "Empty your ca-*ghak!*"
The dagger buried itself in his throat, still smoking, and the sentence died with him.
The man choked on his blood and the sensation was too agonizing to even cry in pain.
