by Zoe Parker
I still don’t feel like I do.
Knox is sitting beside me, holding my hand like he’s prone to do. At first it was a bit weird for me, but then I came to understand that he needed it. And since it isn’t killing me…
“Is that your ninja you talked about?” he asks me in a loud whisper.
I smile at him as I answer. “Yeah, that’s him.”
I forgot about that conversation. I wonder what Phobe will think of me calling him a ninja? Probably tell me that he’s scarier than a ninja. Which is true.
Christ, Phobe is back.
Somewhat successfully, I’ve managed to keep it together on the outside. Inside, I’m a freaking train wreck. My emotions are all over the place and I now get the commercials talking about PMS and hormones, even though it’s not actually PMS. I think it’s just part of being female.
Which is stupid. Why in the world would any woman choose to go through that?
‘Iza, where is your mind going?’
I send him a mental eyeroll and say, ‘Crazy.’
‘I regret to inform you that you hit that stage in your journey many years ago.’
‘Oh look, you’re a comedian.’
The jackass went and found a sense of humor while he was gone. Good for him, totally… not.
His chuckle isn’t that big of a surprise. The reaction I have to it kind of is. Yeah, those stupid goosebumps are back.
“Iza, my head hurts.” I frown down at Knox’s words.
“Do you wanna go see Nika?” The idea of him in pain makes me stomach twist. He shakes his head and lays it on my lap. Well, if I can’t get him to the mountain I whisper to the Sidhe.
“Why in the world am I here?” Nika says from the doorway.
I smile. There are some perks to this job.
“Knox has a headache. Can you check on him?” I ask.
“It is perfectly normal—” The look I give her shuts her right up. “Of course.” She crosses the room to the bed and rests her hand on his forehead.
“I can’t find anything amiss. Perhaps a growing pain of some type?” she says after a few minutes.
Frowning, I nod, and she pats his cheek and leaves.
“He’s jealous.” Michael says from the beanbag chair he’s sitting on.
My frown deepens. Is he? “I dunno Michael. He seems off.” I stare down at his little face, but he’s sleeping peacefully and if there was anything wrong with him, Nika would’ve found it.
Physically, anyhow.
Rubbing his soft hair, I realize that Knox is asleep. He’s at that age still where kids just drop off whenever. I’ve seen him to go to sleep in seconds, much like he did now. Still frowning, I move him further up the bed and tuck him in. He can sleep in here tonight.
I won’t be sleeping much anyhow. And I don’t want him separate from me.
After an hour or so Michael and Ruthie both fake yawn and leave within minutes of each other. Silly kids, I know they’re going to go make goo-goo eyes at each other.
Standing up and stretching, I check on Knox one last time. He’s still sleeping peacefully. Something really is off with him. He doesn’t feel the same to me. It’s strange but then again, there’s a lot going on and everyone is adjusting. But why does thinking that feel like an excuse?
No, something is off. I’ll talk to him tomorrow.
Turning, I walk out the door and head towards the outside. It’s cold outside, so the Sidhe won’t open the door until I grab my coat off the coat rack. It’s annoying and kind of sweet too, even if I don’t get cold.
Pacified, it opens the door.
There isn’t snow yet, but I can smell it in the air. The cold has this distinct… clean smell that I love. I’m looking forward to seeing the snow that’s coming. To seeing the world blanketed in white, fluffy drifts.
I wonder if I can eat it?
‘Yes, it is merely frozen water,’ Phobe’s voice drifts through my mind.
‘You’re following me, aren’t you?’
‘Of course.’
He appears beside me—still only wearing a t-shirt, jeans and no shoes.
‘You don’t get cold either, do you?’
‘No.’
Impulsively I grab his hand and drag him along with me. He follows without a struggle and his fingers curl around my hand. Well, then.
‘When I was a kid, my Mom used to tell me stories about this place,’ I share.
‘The Sidhe?’
‘Yes. You wanna hear the stories?’
‘Yes.’
That answer surprises me, in a good way.
Without looking at him, I start talking. And it feels good to talk to him. To share with him. And as we walk and talk, I slowly start to relax. I realize for the first time since I got to this place that it feels right to be here.
Not just at the Sidhe… but with him.
Chapter Thirteen
Phobe
“You’re just too damned fast girl.” Alagard chides Iza.
She glares at him from the ground—a place she is becoming overly familiar with. “If I’m too fast, then why the hell am I the one on the ground?” she bites out, her eyes flashing in the sunlight.
He pulls her to her feet. She dusts off her pants, complaining under her breath the entire time.
“Because the way I’m trying to teach you just isn’t working. You fight dirty, with no formal sword technique. And I end up reacting to protect myself,” he explains.
The Sidhe, sensing her needs, created a training field. I watched the land essentially give birth to stone walls surrounding a large, dirt- covered area. A wooden fence also sprang to life, providing a place for weapons racks to hang. I’m currently using it for a place to sit and watch.
Watching the failure of her teacher.
He has been training her for the last week—or attempting to. He is incredibly frustrated with her lack of progress. But it is not lack of progress. It is a lack of his understanding of her, and her understanding of herself.
Iza remembers everything I taught her in prison and uses it, but I only gave her the basics. Basics that serve her well so far. But they will not be good enough for what is coming.
Alagard is a good swordsman for a dragon but Iza is only half, and that half is not the dominant one.
He will never be able to teach her effectively.
She needs to learn to fight in a way that uses her unique genetic makeup. Iza is fast and incredibly strong, with Fiend weapons at her disposal. None of these can be incorporated by a dragon teacher.
Against unskilled half-breeds, her skills are more than enough. But against a trained, armed opponent who can outmaneuver her, she will lose. Every time. And that is unacceptable.
“You really a ninja?” The soft words pull my attention away from Iza, and I look down at the little shifter standing there staring at me.
Knox.
Off and on since I sat on the fence, he’s watched me. He finally worked up the courage to speak. Commendable.
“Maybe,” I answer, remembering the conversation I overheard before between him and Iza.
Knox squints up at me, sizing me up. Smart child. My shadows brush him, but I receive nothing. Which is strange but not impossible. I sense no other Magiks around him. Some creatures have a natural resistance to mental intrusion, a very rare trait.
It is something I will remember.
“She said you could throw cars and have fire eyes. I just see blue.” He squints even more.
Some foreign emotion touches me. I let my eyes flare—a little, letting the shifter see—but only my eyes change, and only a peek. Instead of being afraid like I half expect, he smiles.
“Goddamnit, Alagard, that hurt!” Iza’s voice carries across the field loudly.
“Put your guard up, and it won’t hurt! Going straight for the kill won’t always work, girl!” he yells back.
“You should teach her. Since you’re a ninja,” Knox suggests.
I look back down at him. In this, he and
I are in a like state of mind. Hopping down off the fence, I grab a sword from the rack and cross to them.
The dragon sees me coming first.
“Thank god. Someone else can get thumped on for a while,” he says stepping back.
Iza turns to me. She starts to smile, and it fades as she studies my face. “You have that ‘no bullshit’ look on your face,” she mutters.
Jumping towards her, I aim the sword directly at her head. Halfway down, I turn it sideways and smack her on the ass with it. Her shriek of outrage is oddly satisfying to hear.
“This is a no bullshit situation. Show me your guard stance,” I order.
She falls into a sloppy stance. I smack her wrist with the side of the sword. She is not prepared enough to avoid it, and her sword clatters to the ground.
“Stop sucking,” I say softly.
Her eyes light up then flash black. Good, she is pissed.
Glaring at me, she picks up her sword. Annoyed now, she charges at me, and I easily avoid every intended blow. She is fast, but I am faster. I am not gentle, either. Several times I nick her, or I smack her hard somewhere with the side of the sword. Most of the time, on her ass. Those rile her up the most.
This goes on for quite some time.
“When you rush in without thought against someone better than you, they will win,” I critique.
Her response is to come at me faster. The clang of metal draws a crowd. I ignore them all because they do not matter.
Abruptly, I go on the attack and then the real fun starts.
“Sloppy. Do it again.” Nick on her arm. “Wide open.” Deeper cut to the back of her hand. “Move the way I know you can move, not the way you think you can.” I almost smile the moment she starts to get it.
Iza is a very quick study.
As I swing the sword sideways, she bends backwards and avoids the blow that would have beheaded her. Just as fast I stab at her. She dances to the side and blocks me. Sparks jump from the force of the swords connecting. Unhooking our blades, I stab her in the upper leg with the tip of the sword. I am not going to baby her. I did not before, and I will not start now.
This will save her life one day.
I push her harder. Finally, to my satisfaction, she pushes back. Her movements became smoother, her body more fluid. She comes at me with a flurry of blows and gets closer than anyone ever has to wounding me in a fight.
I will always be better than her, but there is nothing wrong with me making sure she is second to me.
“Too slow,” I tease.
She growls at my taunt and lunges. I trip her and push with my foot. Mid-way down she turns her herself and aims her sword low at my legs. It is a good move, but I am already several steps away.
This is the best entertainment I have had since she and I fought the first time. That is… strange, I cannot recall the last time I was entertained by anything that was not related to her.
After several hours, she is flagging. Iza is special, she is fast, she is strong, and she is one of a kind. But she cannot go on forever.
“Okay, I’m cooked, Phobe.” She steps back, sword pointed at the ground.
‘You can do better,’ I say into her mind.
‘You’re pushy.’ I can hear the irritation in her voice.
I fight the smile that wants to break free. Only she can make me smile this way.
‘I’m the only one fast enough to teach you. Deal with it.’
‘Jerk,’ But she does not mean it.
Her eyes hold her humor and her weariness.
“See, you’re learning,” Alagard says coming up beside us.
Iza gives him a dirty look and stomps off.
He laughs. “You push her hard,” the old dragon chastises me.
“Yes,” I say. It is the truth.
He strokes his beard at my answer but does not say anything else. He may think I am being too hard on her but he is also an old soldier. He knows what will eventually find its way to her. To us.
Tossing him the sword, I follow Iza. I know where she is going.
Chapter Fourteen
Iza
The drip of water is the only thing breaking the silence of the hot spring room… cavern, whatever it is. The Sidhe made it for me and I love it. There are three large pools of steaming hot water, the absolute perfect temperature. There are also cushioned seats that are exactly the right height for me to sit on in the water.
They move if I want to go deeper in the water or higher too. How awesome is that?
I shiver.
His steps are silent, but I can feel him there. Feel every single molecule of his body. It’s that stupid bond, the one I can’t break. The one I’m not sure I want to break.
It’s how Phobe found my hiding spot. The jerk.
But still I smile at my thoughts. He’s a jerk, yeah, but I know that I’ll be better from his teaching than anyone else’s. Makes my freaking body hurt though. My healing abilities kicked in and took care of the actual injuries, but I feel every ache, keenly.
Super-duper healing only does so much.
It’s a good kind of ache, at least. I understand what he’s taught me so far, while everything Alagard tried to teach me went right over my head.
While swinging the sword around with Alagard, I was starting to think I was a moron. Nothing he was explaining or showing me made any kind of sense. Then Phobe volunteered and I started to understand. I think part of it is because he beat my ass. He left me no choice but to learn. He isn’t a gentle or accommodating teacher. And I need that.
Gentle and I don’t fit in the same space together.
My gut tells me that this is only the beginning. He won’t stop because I get tired of learning or because he hurts me. He won’t stop until I understand it. Because right now, I suck. The good news is, I won’t suck after he gets done teaching me.
“Did you get what you went looking for?” I ask, breaking the silence.
I know he’s right behind me now, I have those stupid goosebumps again.
“Yes,” he says after a second of tension-filled silence.
“You going to share with the class what it was?” I snap out.
Apparently, I’m still a bit miffed he left me. Understanding the reasons or not, he still left. The silence continues for so long I turn my head and look behind me. He’s less than a foot from me, standing up to his waist in the water, bare-chested.
For a moment, all I can do is stare at him. At the trails of the water drops rolling down his skin. My eyes follow those trails until I force my eyes back to his face. Nope, not just bare-chested. He’s buck naked.
Boy, does he do a number on my hormones. Which annoys me to no end.
“I had to be sure of no more shackles. I also had to be sure of you,” he answers.
I blink. Uh. “I’m sorry, what?”
The water ripples around him as he takes a step forward. All the hair stands up on my body. Including the Medusa Strands, which are straining to reach him. They like him. I’m being betrayed by my own hair. How does that even happen?
“I was a slave for a long time, Iza. Until you were brought there, I had no hope of being anything more.”
I open my mouth to speak then snap it shut. My gut tells me that if I interrupt him now, he’ll never finish saying what he needs to say. What I need to hear.
“One look at you and my entire world turned on its axis.” His eyes pin me to my seat in the water. “You awoke this mess inside of me.” He takes another step towards me, closing the last remnants of distance between us. “I had to be sure that they were real. I had to know that these emotions—that I still do not completely understand—are genuine.”
Stepping around me, he sits on the cushioned seat before me, the water almost reaching his nipples. He takes my hands in his.
“You will not accept anything less than everything from me. I know you well enough to say that.” He tugs, bringing my wet skin up against his own. “I am not a creature of kindness. I am not one of y
our gentle Feyrie. I am cruel, cold and unrelenting. I do not know the politics of romance, nor do I care to. I am a monster, Iza. I can pledge my life, my loyalty and my respect. These fucked-up emotions you make me feel. Is that enough?”
I’m speechless. I sit there with my mouth opening and closing like a fish for what feels like an eternity.
“That is the most I have ever heard you talk at once,” I blurt out.
Smooth, Iza.
It’s then that I realize I’m straddling his lap, completely naked. It isn’t embarrassment that makes my skin suddenly burn hot. We’ve been well, I’ve been naked most our time around each other. There’s no embarrassment between us anymore.
This time is different.
‘Let me in.’
Of its own accord, my mind opens to him at his demand. I feel him sink inside of me. Feel it lock something permanent into place, something right. My eyes close as I lean forward into him.
Just for a minute. That’s all.
Chapter Fifteen
Phobe
My hold slackens enough for me to raise my hands to her back, to scrape my claws along her bare skin. I did not lie when I told her I am not a gentle creature. I can try my best, with her, but in the end, the animal inside of me will win.
Every time.
Sharp teeth trace my earlobe. Just hard enough to give me goosebumps. She pulls back just a little and looks at me. Her claws leave trails of fire as they circle from my back to my shoulders and then to my chest. I feel them sink into my skin, feel them make me bleed.
And I like it.
Only Iza will ever understand me in such a way.
Just one taste and I will stop. Just one.
I pull her flush to me, pressing her against the proof of how much I want her. Hesitantly, I kiss her once, then again. Testing her, waiting. Her teeth bite, playfully rough, into my bottom lip. There is nothing remotely gentle in my next kiss. It is all teeth and tongues and ragged breaths. I devour her mouth, unable to hold back the tide any longer.
My hands roam her body as I allow myself the privilege not allowed in the times I touched her before. I know I am bruising her, but I cannot stop. My clawed thumb trails down her stomach, dipping into her belly button before continuing its journey downward.
