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The inert form groaned in response to movement.
When her torso cleared the gunman’s, she scrambled on her hands and knees over the dirt, and the Highlander yanked her up.
“Hurry. I just knocked him out enough so you could run away. He’ll wake up soon.”
She rebalanced herself and stared at Yuri. Other than a whack on the head, he appeared uninjured.
Moaning, Yuri opened his eyes and gawked at the Highlander, who kept his Jacobite sword pointed at the gunman. “Raven,” he wheezed, gasping for air. “Still fighting for justice? You should’ve fought with us for more money.”
The Raven stood with his sword pointed at Yuri’s throat. “I’d never stoop so low to fight with you insurgents.”
“Kostenko would’ve paid you loads of cash. You and the Druid could’ve joined Crimson Hammer and gotten rich.” Yuri clutched his head, moaning.
“Kyle?” She dropped her mouth open, seized by a sense of paralysis. Kyle couldn’t possibly have considered such an arrangement. The mere thought repulsed her.
“The Druid would’ve never harmed Britain or America. He valued honor and integrity and despised you disgusting rodents.” The Raven flicked the tip of his sword under Yuri’s chin.
“You fucking boy scouts and your ideals. No one gives a shit about the truth. The powerful invent whatever truth they want you to believe.” Yuri snarled, with his hands flat on the ground by his sides.
“Give me your sword.” The anger simmering under the surface of her grief boiled over and overflowed. She erupted with raw rage and yanked the Raven’s weapon from his hand, startling him. Stepping forward in an attack stance, she whipped the blade tip around in a perfect, smooth arc under Yuri’s chin. She rested its point square on his carotid artery, giving the double-edged blade another firm push to clarify her intentions. “Did you hurt Kyle?”
“I’m a killer. I kill many people.” Jutting his chin, Yuri sneered and chuckled.
“In the name of God, did you kill Kyle MacTavish?” Tess roared, her throat burning. After a year spent trying to obliterate her grief, she cut loose its fiery twin—revenge. She felt her fury detonate like glass shards escaping her body from the inside out, piercing her in bloody stabs. Stab, explode, release.
Pinpointing her sword tip against Yuri’s upper throat, she pressed as hard as she dared without puncturing his skin. “By God, you’d better tell me now. Did you murder him?” With the sword tight in her steady right hand, she tracked his gaze as it moved up the straight line of the blade to the hilt.
“Your boyfriend? I ran his car off the cliff by the bridge. He crashed into the water. Yes, I killed him.” Yuri laughed and patted the ground, grasping for his knife but unable to reach it.
Tess breathed in uneven gasps as her body shook, and the sword wavered in her hand as revenge pulsated through her blood. She needed more air. Stabilizing her grip, she kept the sword tip tight against Yuri’s neck, unable to control the rage coursing through her body. One thrust of the shining blade could slit his throat and end this forever. “You. Fucking. Murderer. I will crush you.”
On the ground, Yuri lay paralyzed, not speaking, with his attention focused on the sword in her hand.
She seethed with grief, fresh and raw as the day Kyle’s beautiful spirit was yanked from the earth. Nothing else existed but avenging his murder and seeking justice for all the people Yuri killed. She compressed the sword tip harder against his neck and prepared to strike.
“Lass, ye don’t want to live with killing a man. Death is forever.”
The Raven’s gentle brogue broke through the invisible perimeter encircling her battle with Yuri. Holding her breath, she fixated on the gunman’s prone body, and her hand wavered.
“I’m sorry. I believe in God, but I’ve done terrible things,” Yuri whispered in a scratchy rasp.
Yuri’s beady eyes bored into her, and he grasped his necklace, a steel crucifix, like an offering. With slow, jerking motions, he made the sign of the cross over his heart. “God have mercy on me, the sinner. Forgive me. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, have mercy. Thy will is done.”
“What?” she burst out, keeping her sword steady at his neck.
“So now you pray? You rodent,” the Raven replied.
Yuri’s jaw gnashed back and forth, chewing something. He swallowed twice, and his face twisted before his eyelids drooped closed.
“What did you do?” Not understanding, she stared at the gunman. She would not be cheated of this moment. Lowering her sword a few inches, she ducked forward, grasped his collar, and jerked his head off the ground.
“What I should have done years ago.” Yuri’s eyelids fluttered, and he gasped once.
“What the hell?” She stared at his limp form, flat on the trail. His body seized several seconds before relaxing like a flag unfurling in the breeze. His chalk-white hands opened, and all movement stopped. Stunned, she looked at the Raven.
“Damn coward killed himself. Cyanide. The worst bullies are always the weakest inside.” With a gloved hand, the Raven reclaimed his broadsword and slid the blade into the leather scabbard attached to his belt.
Staring at Yuri’s corpse, Tess felt a peculiar emptiness. Although she was freed from fear, she was robbed of legal justice. Yuri would never face judgment, suffer, or rot in prison for his crimes.
