Deathstalker 06 - Deathstalker Legacy

said Lewis. "I don't have time for this."
    He turned away from her, heading back towards the riot, and the roiling mob. Rose lunged after him, her face darkening with rage. "Don't you dare turn your back on me, Deathstalker!"
    And Lewis turned back, his energy gun in his hand. He had no intention of dueling with a psychopath.
    He aimed and fired in a single moment, but somehow Rose darted to one side at the very last moment, and the energy beam barely clipped her side, burning away the red leathers over her ribs. She plunged on, sword in hand, ignoring the pain. Lewis brought up his blade just in time to parry a vicious blow that would have sheared his head from his shoulders, and his whole arm shuddered with the impact. The Champion and the Wild Rose went blade to blade, face to face, neither of them giving an inch. Brett Random scuttled away on all fours, watching wide-eyed as two killing machines crashed together, and would not yield.
    After a while they tired of direct assault, and circled each other slowly, swords darting out to test each other's defenses, probing for weaknesses in defense or attack, studying the opponent's strengths and
    style, looking always for the opening or blind spot that would allow a killing stroke. Rose was grinning widely now, her eyes sparkling. She'd discovered a new thrill; fighting someone who might actually be her equal. It had been a long, long time since Rose had considered herself in any real danger in a fight, and she delighted in the new sensation, glorying in a real challenge at last. Lewis's ugly face was cold and focused, studying Rose like a new species of insect, that might bite or sting him to death, given a chance.
    He moved smoothly onto the defensive, parrying Rose's increasingly frenzied attacks, watching and learning, until he decided he knew all he needed to know. He moved swiftly from defense to attack, his blade moving so fast now that Brett couldn't even follow it, and step by step Lewis drove Rose back.
    And it was his blade that drew first blood; a long thin cut just above Rose's right cheekbone. Blood ran down her pale skin, and her tongue darted out of the corner of her mouth to catch it. She laughed softly, and looked at Lewis with sick, loving eyes. Her scarlet smile was terribly wide now, her heart leaping in her chest as she stamped and thrust and parried. Rose Constantine knew she was very close to death now. And she couldn't have been happier. She fought back, calling on all her strength and speed and years of experience, and she dueled the Deathstalker to a standstill. They went head to head, grunting with the effort. The trained warrior and the gifted psychopath. The Champion and the Wild Rose.
    Masters of their art. Equally matched, equally skilled. One driven by a lust for murder, the other by a need for justice and revenge. They both stood their ground and would not be moved, their blades slamming together again and again, sparks flying on the air. And there was no way of telling which way it might have gone when Brett Random drew a concealed disrupter and shot Lewis in the side at point-blank range.
    Even in the middle of the greatest swordfight of his life, Lewis's instincts were still good. He sensed as much as saw Brett draw his disrupter, and was already turning when the gun fired. The energy beam punched clean through his right side, and out his back, boring a burning hole right through ribs and stomach and kidney. The impact threw Lewis to the ground, his sword flying from suddenly weak fingers.
    He lay there, shaking and twitching, breathing hard, trying to draw his own gun from its holster, but his arm wouldn't obey him. He gritted his teeth against the awful pain, and forced his hand slowly towards his side, expecting Rose's death blow at any moment. But when he glanced across through pain-filled eyes, it was to see Rose send Brett sprawling with a vicious blow to the head. She stooped over him with her sword at his throat, screaming with rage.
    "Mine! He was mine! Mine to kill!"
    "It was orders, Rose! His orders!" Brett's voice was so high with fear it was almost hysterical. "He would have killed you! You were losing! I had my orders. Now cut his throat, and let's get the hell out of here."
    Rose looked back at Lewis, who'd got his hand to his gun at last, and was trying to find the strength to draw it. She scowled. "I can't kill him. Not like this. He's the Deathstalker. I'm . . . I'm not a butcher."
    Brett scrambled to his feet,