I kicked off my heels to prepare for the battle ahead.
The Russian lumbered toward me, favoring his injured leg. I dodged him and lunged for a vase in the nearest alcove. I pitched it at his head. He raised his uninjured arm and took the hit as easily as deflecting a dodgeball, except the ceramic vase shattered into a thousand pieces.
Still, Maxim came at me. I couldn’t let him get close. I threw my dagger, and it embedded in his shoulder. With a snarl, he ripped it out and tossed it to the floor.
Shit…
I retreated several steps. The whites of Maxim’s eyes appeared right before he charged me again.
I scrambled to the other side of the gallery and reached for the scimitar.Come on!I tried to tear it free, but it was secured to the wall.
I turned to find Maxim almost upon me. He swung his meaty fist at my head. I ducked and returned with a rapid hook and cross as my training kicked in. Blood leaked from the Russian’s nose, but my punches didn’t slow his advance.
I shifted back, but he kept coming, a solid wall of muscle bearing down on me.
I couldn’t continue retreating. I had to attack.
I stepped in and landed a strong kick to Maxim’s thigh, right where the dagger had been. His leg buckled. While he was off balance, I drove him back with a push kick to the chest and followed it up with a series of rapid punches to his face and body, moves I’d performed a thousand times while sparring, just never in anger. With adrenaline coursing through my veins, I put all my strength into the blows.
The Russian leaked a trail of blood across the white marble tiles yet somehow remained on his feet. What would it take to bring him down? I gasped for air as if I’d run a marathon. So did he.
“Enough of these games.” Maxim spat blood onto the floor and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. The flash of his tattoo renewed my determination for revenge.
He lunged for me fast.
I dodged but lost my footing when I slipped on blood. My knees crashed to the tiles, and my hands smeared through thick crimson as I braced myself.
And then Maxim was on me, hauling me up as if I weighed nothing before he shoved my back against the wall. The Russian beast towered over me, both hands around my neck, pinning me in place. It felt like a vise around my throat. My lungs seized from the lack of oxygen. Maxim bared his red-stained teeth. Gone was his stoicism. Now he was an antagonized, raging bull making its final charge.
He punched me in the stomach—hard. It knocked the wind out of me, and I’d have collapsed to the floor if he weren’t holding me up. I coughed and managed to suck in one precious, ragged breath. But Maxim wasted no time in drawing his arm back for another blow, this one aimed straight for my head. I dug my nails deep into the bloody gash on his forearm. Maxim bellowed, and his hold on me loosened. He lined me up for another punch. My strength was flagging, but with a grunt I twisted from his grip and rolled to the side. The Russian’s broad fist pounded through the drywall where my face had been a moment ago.
He roared his frustration. The inhuman sound rattled me to my bones.
From the nearest alcove, I lunged for a foot-long Celtic dagger and tore it from its mounting bracket.
Maxim’s eyes narrowed on my weapon as he struggled to pull his arm from the wall. With a feral growl, he ripped it free, staggering back as he steadied himself.
“Enough!” he yelled and reached for the pistol tucked into the back of his pants.
He raised the firearm. I stepped in with a roundhouse kick, knocking it from his grip. As I landed, I spun and jammed the blade into the side of Maxim’s throat.
Utter disbelief crowded his expression. Wet gurgling sounds accompanied the thick pulsing of blood as it squirted and streamed down his neck.
I rocked back, ready to collapse and chest heaving. Not yet. Not while he still stood. Part of me expected the Russian giant to keep coming at me, but that wound had to be fatal.
“Three years ago, you killed Kieran O’Malley in a drive-by shooting.” I spoke through gritted teeth. “This is for him. This is my payback.” Then I lunged forward and thrust the dagger in farther until the point of the blade emerged on the other side of Maxim’s throat.
The Russian’s eyes widened in shock before they rolled back in their sockets. Then his heavy, limp body crashed against me.