Craig brought up a hand as if to scratch his head—and then, pivoting, smashed a blow to the guard's temple.
The man staggered, clawing for his weapon.
Craig caught his wrist in both hands; twisted.
It spun the other around—off balance, still staggering. A kick to the back of his knees buckled his legs. He sprawled flat on his face.
Then, before Craig could move, Vydys threw herself on their fallen foeman like a tigress. A slender, stilleto-like knife flashed in her hand, lancing down into the soft hollow at the base of the guard's skull.
The man's body jerked once, spasmodically, then lay still.
Vydys came to her feet in one smooth, sinuous motion. She was breathing hard. A strange, hot light of excitement gleamed in her eyes.
Craig snatched the bloody knife out of her hand. "Why did you do that? We could have tied him—"
"So that he could talk later?" Teeth bared, she laughed, high and keening. "No, Earthman! This way is better!"