Page 162 of Riordan's Revenge

I launched at Moniqua, throwing my fist into the wacko woman’s face with a crack of knuckles meeting cheekbone. Moniqua screamed and whirled around, her knife arm extended.

I tossed a savage grin at Riordan to tell him I had her, no trouble.

I wanted this kill all to myself.

She slashed out at me, her snarl all the funnier from the blood oozing from her split lip, like her lipstick was melting off. Moments ago, I’d listened in to their conversation, out of sight, and texted updates to my brothers and to Arran and Shade.

I’d told Arran to stand down the hunt. We had the killer. The mayor, too.

He’d replied to say they were close by and would join us. Which meant I needed to wrap this up quickly or risk someone else stepping in on my fun.

“You’re supposed to be dead,” she spat.

“Yeah, well, call me the messiah, come to hand ye your arse.” I roundhouse kicked her.

The knife flew from her hands and clattered from the road into scrubby undergrowth.

Moniqua started after it, but I snatched a handful of her hair and swung her around.

“Ye trampled on other women on your climb to the top. Ye killed good people. The world needs more of them, not less, ye miserable fucking cunt.”

With a shove, I tackled her off the path and onto the short patch of wasteland. She swung for me, but I kicked her in the gut, leaving a muddy boot print on her wraparound dress.

“Bitch,” she snapped.

“I’ve been called worse.”

I swiped out her leg. Moniqua crumpled like a house of cards.

She stumbled down the bank that led to the river path. There was no barrier. Nothing between us and the raging river that boiled on its rush back out to sea, the tide having turned.

Shite. I didn’t want her to fall in and drown. Not without me getting to her first.

Luckily, she found her balance and righted herself. “I’ll kill you.”

I let my crazy show. “Good luck with that.”

From its sheath, I extracted my new favourite weapon. Moniqua stared at the bejewelled dagger, the pretty stone flashing in the light.

I held it up. “Like it? My boyfriend bought it as a birthday present. Oh, wait. It’s not my birthday anymore. It’s Halloween. Bye, ghoul.”

Launching at her, I brought the blade down in an arc, embedding it in the centre of her chest, right at the opening of her dress. She dropped to the muddy ground, her handsfluttering at the site of her injury, and her eyes so wide the whites looked obscene.

I wasn’t done yet. “Ye never had anyone fight back, did ye? Cherry was a gentle soul, from what Genevieve told me. Alisha was, too. Ye either drugged or surprised Amelia and Natasha. Yet one on one with me, and you’re scrabbling on the ground in your death throes.”

Moniqua let out a hysterical sob. “Get it out. Get it out!”

I rolled my eyes and stood over her. “Don’t make this awkward. You’re dead anyway. But fuck am I letting ye take my present with ye. So just this once, I’ll oblige.”

Like with Lonnie, a boot to her torso freed my blade, and I examined it to make sure it wasn’t damaged. On the path, Deadwater’s murderer curled up around herself, shaking, bleeding, and making some fucking weird sounds.

A handful of her hair yanked her face back to me. I took my blade to her throat. “As vengeance for the four women you killed and for Dixie who survived your bullshit, I claim your life.”

Confusion marred her face, but it changed to horror when I opened her throat.

Her body jerked. Blood ebbed into the mud. At last, she went still, and I breathed out then kicked her into the river.

It took her. Rushed to accept her then rolled her down deep with her curled fingers the last thing I saw as she disappeared in the turmoil.

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