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And then I shove it in deeper, twisting as I go.
He gurgles again, his eyes widening, and it takes a moment for him to realize what I've done. He twitches violently, as if his body is putting up a last-minute fight, so I shove the knife in harder, as hard and as far as it'll go, until the rough end of the blade is cutting into my palms and shredding them, and the knife grinds against bone, and still I push it deeper, deeper.
Fuck this guy. Fuck Brad. Fuck every man in the universe that thinks he can own a woman.
My hands grow slippery with blood and the knife goes too far in for me to grasp any longer. I stop, pushing at Kvasaht's chest until he rolls off of Sessah. I've pushed the knife so hard that it disappears into his matted fur, and blood seems to be everywhere. He's dead weight now, and heavy, and I kick him off of Sessah, furious for no reason at all.
I'm still angry, I realize, and hold a hand out to see it shaking. Angry and freaked out and in shock. I turn my hand over and wince, because I've turned my palms into ground beef shoving against that nasty piece of metal he was using as a knife. Well, it worked like one just fine.
There's a groan, and I freeze. I look over at Kvasaht, but he's unmoving, his eyes open and glassy, staring at nothing. His mouth is hanging open, a fine line of drool hanging from his slack tongue. Gross. I give his body another kick and turn toward Sessah, some of my anger giving way to panic. Sessah. He's injured.
I flutter my hands over my lover's bloody face, worried. His forehead is covered in blood, and his scalp is tarry with it, but he's got so much plating there thanks to his horns that I don't know how injured he truly is. Is he just knocked out, or did Kvasaht hurt him more than that? Heart pounding, I lean over him, pressing my cheek against his mouth, and I sob with joy when I feel his breath flutter over my skin. Just wounded and unconscious. He's all right, then. I rub his chest, and then grimace at the red smear I've left behind. I sit back on my haunches, looking over at Kvasaht, and it sinks in.
I killed a man.
I had a choice to save his life and I murdered him instead.
My breath quickens with anxiety, and I gulp at the air. Do I regret it? No. Maybe that's the part that's freaking me out. He made it clear he was going to rape me and murder Sessah, so I can't be sorry about it. I just…worry what Sessah will think. His people don't know what murder is, not really. I think of all the stories that I've heard told around campfires—the sa-khui and the islanders love stories—and the only one that comes close is Summer and Warrek's daring rescue as they took over the alien ship and saved the captives. Will Sessah see this as the same?
Or will he be disgusted with my choice? I don't think he will be, but for all that he's big and brave, there's an innocence to his people. I've destroyed that, and the thought makes tears slide down my face. I swipe at them, irritated, only to become more irritated when I smear blood all over my face.
"Right," I tell myself. "Get your shit together. Wash the blood off of you and Sessah, see how bad the wounds are, then get rid of the body. One thing at a time." I nod, pleased with my pep talk, and get to my feet. I wash off in the edge of the pool, but there's so much blood that it floods the water around me, and I have to scrub and scrub at my skin until it comes off. Who knew that blood was so…clingy? I swallow hard, determined not to vomit as I clean the raw cuts on my hands and bind them with a bit of leather torn from my tunic.
Picking up my tunic makes me laugh sharply, because the knives I've worked so hard to conceal all over the place are still intact, still hidden. They're still under vines and in the seams of my tunic and wrapped in the bottoms of my boots. I was in danger and instead of using one of my many, many weapons…I pushed a man until he fell on his own knife.
So much for being prepared.
Still laughing at the irony of it (and maybe a touch hysterical), I fill a container with water and move back to Sessah's side. There's so much blood all over the stones here that it looks as if I was butchering something, and I swallow hard. It's fine, I tell myself. I'll clean it up before Sessah wakes so he won't see the worst of it. I can take care of it. With another deep breath, I kick aside the dead body and give him a push with my foot.
