A Careful Dance (Prologue)

He gave one last look at the people down below him, watching them with sadness as they all moved about their lives.

Lives so much different than their own.

Beside him, she shifted, excitement oozing out of every movement and pore. He took a deep breath, inhaling the crisp autumn air.

Then they were off.

The two all but soared over the rooftops, the shadows clinging to them, until they reached their destination: a warehouse near the edge of the river. It was where his enemies from his past were hiding, where the last remnants of their enemies were sowing the seeds for a return. He needed to stop them, to make sure that the past died completely.

He signaled to his companion to go and get into position. With another gust of wind, she was gone, leaving him alone to collect his thoughts.

His body tensed as he moved forward, snapping the lock off the door that kept him from entering the warehouse. He swaggered inside, taking out the two sentries that stood guard with barely a flick of his wrists. As he passed the two bodies, he heard the sickening thudump as, somewhere hidden from his vision, a couple of throwing blades connected with two more bodies. A shadow moved, but the man stayed his blade as his young companion appeared, her grey eyes shining.

The two moved through the warehouse, stealthily executing those who spotted them before they could raise the alarm with clinical ease and efficiency.

Other than those sentries and patrols that had the misfortune to encounter them, there wasn't any other resistance.

While his companion was slowly becoming lax, strolling around confidently, he steeled himself for the battle that would surely pique soon.

He stopped when the hairs on his arms prickled straight. His companion froze when she realized he wasn't following.

"We're not alone." He whispered, his voice echoing loudly.

Suddenly, a spotlight was placed on the two of them. Guards surrounded them, but his attention was arrested the man standing in front of the spotlight, only his silhouette visible.

The Assassin could hear the smugness, the mocking, the false hospitality of his voice as the man spoke, the warehouse throwing his voice everywhere.

"Welcome Assassins!"

The sounds of the guns cocking, readying to be fired down upon them, he remained still, confident, but tense.

He had danced this careful dance for far too long.

But he knew that it wasn't quite his time yet.