Flash Fiction: Battle Blood

An alley. Always happens in an alley. Every single time. Why not in the pub across the road? The cops and guardians paid off. Hell, they are usually the main consumers on the black market. The venue warmer, a fire raging in the hearth. Oh his phoenix blood detested the snow, rivaling his dislike for crowds. He tapped his foot in the snow, leaving an imprint. Patience not one of his virtues. His hand rested on his dagger at his waist. Can never be too careful when there is a price on one’s head. A lightning bolt illuminated the shadows. The transaction would have to wait while the snow stained with battle blood.