Page 73 of Jagger's Remorse

---

She's fueled by rage.

He's driven by betrayal.

I want to help, but the Three Devils keep coming.

Plus, this is her fight.

Her demon to exorcise.

They dance through the gunfire, oblivious to the war around them.

His knife finds her shoulder.

Her boot finds his knee.

Both are bleeding now.

Both slowing down.

"I made you," he pants. "Everything you are?—"

"Is spite," she finishes. "Spite and survival. You taught me that."

"I taught you loyalty!" he roars.

"You taught me pain," she corrects.

She feints left, spins right.

Her blade finds the gap in his armor.

Slides between plates like coming home.

He gasps, stumbles.

But catches her wrist.

Pulls her close.

"Mi dragoncita," he whispers. "You were supposed to be perfect."

"Nobody's perfect," she whispers back. "You taught me that too."

She twists the knife.

He drops.

This time for good.

She stands over him, bloody and breathing hard.

Something passes across her face.

Not relief.

Not satisfaction.

Loss, maybe.

---