“Security?” Maldynado drawled. “Run along, chap. You’re blocking the view.” Apparently, Maldynado’s condescending tone was the expected address, for the man inclined his head and strode off. He wore a utility belt bristling with daggers. “Looks like we found a playmate for Sicarius,” Amaranthe murmured. “Yup. Those were knife scars. I bet he’s a former pit fighter who won his way into a security gig.”
