Disrupts rage

“Bozhe moi,” came a sudden, startled voice from somewhere behind me. “Dresden. What is the meaning of this?”
“Fuck off, Sanya,” I snarled. “Won’t be a minute.”
Rudolph made a gurgling sound.
“Dresden,” Sanya said. His deep voice was troubled, which stood to reason. He didn’t have much clarity, like I did. “He is no threat to you. Stop this.”
“He killed Murphy,” I said. My voice sounded calm. “I’m going to balance those scales real quick. Then we’ll get to work.”
“No,” Sanya said. “That is not your place.”
I heard the steel in his voice.
I turned my head slowly and looked at him.
The Knight of Hope drew Esperacchius from his side. The saber gleamed with a harsh, threatening light in the dimness of the alleyway.
“Let him go,” Sanya said. “You are killing a man. If he has done wrong, he will face justice. But not like this.”
“Just a second,” I said, as if I was putting together a sandwich.
Sanya’s expression was strange. I couldn’t track what it was. But I knew it wasn’t appropriate to the situation. He stalked closer, moving well. Very well. He was a more worthy opponent. “Harry Dresden. I will not ask again.”
Something disturbed the purity of my hatred then. I couldn’t tell what it was, but it pissed me off.
What had been a profoundly pure experience had been disrupted. This creature, this Rudolph, didn’t deserve even the death I was about to give him. He couldn’t even die properly, forcing me to work for it. He was beyond contempt.
“Walk away, Sanya,” I said shortly. “This is happening.”

Battle Ground Chapter 23, Page 209