A Thief in the Night
The area surrounding the fisherman's warehouse reeked with pungent odors of the day's catch, the stink leaking out like smoke from a building on fire. Few places could match the rankness—perhaps the Dongrel—but the two men meeting inside seemed unaffected as they conversed in hushed tones.
Carmine's shifty green eyes scanned the shadows of the warehouse while his meaty callused hand straightened a few errant strands of silver hair that brushed the side of his head. "I just received word. Bren Bulta's prized jewels are in Sykor."
Wisp nodded. An easy smile crossed the thief's face and lit his brown eyes. "Not much would please me more than getting back at Bulta, but still, you shouldn't have called me."
"No one followed me."
A sigh, followed by a heavy breath, brou
