I pushed the blankets back and crawled out of bed, slipping my feet into the cozy moccasins Dad had given me last Christmas. While the September days were still warm, the nights had grown sharper, heralding the coming New Mexico winter. I edged out of my room and walked down the hall, stooping to kneel at the top of the stairs.
I couldn’t see into the kitchen from here, but I could hear the three men talking as distinctly as if I were sitting around the kitchen island with them.
“Marx split his unit into three groups,” Hale was saying. “He’s leading the search into Canada, but it’ll still take some time to gather everyone together.”
“How much time do you think we have?” Thane asked, his voice clipped even more than usual.
“Enough,” Dad said.
“Even if we can gather everyone,” Thane shot back, “that’s only about 100 soldiers. If this intelligence is correct, and the Lilitu have found the way to open the seal—”
“We play it safe,” Dad said. His voice was steady, but there was an anger behind his words that sent a shiver of alarm down my body.
“We don’t even know where this seal is located,” Thane growled.
“You’re the archivist,” Dad snapped back, losing his calm. “Isn’t that your job?”
“How exactly do you suggest I go about finding information that’s—as far as we can tell—all been destroyed?” Thane’s voice grew softer, dangerous. “She is our secret weapon, but that only helps us if we use her.”
A chair scraped the floor. “She’s been through enough,” Dad said hoarsely. “She and Lucas, they’ve already had to deal with more than any kid should be expected to handle.”
“What do you suggest?” Thane asked, a mocking edge to his voice. “Asking the Lilitu politely if they wouldn’t mind waiting a few years so our children have time to mature?”
“Thane’s right,” Hale said. “That Thrall went after her, Murphy. Keeping her out of the loop won’t protect her.”
“I’m not suggesting we keep this from Braedyn,” Dad said. “I’m just asking that we not throw her directly into the lion’s den.” Hearing my name sent a jolt of anxiety through me. It drove the exhaustion out of my head in an instant. I strained to hear everything.
Thane made a disgusted sound. “This is what she was raised for, Murphy! Or have you forgotten that? She needs to be training. We’ve got a very limited amount of time to push her to discover what she’s capable of.”
“If it were up to you, she’d have no social life at all,” Dad said. Warmth spread through my stomach. No matter what we’d been through, Dad still fought for me to have a life—a life as normal as we could make it under the circumstances. I bit my lip, suddenly feeling the urge to tell him about the angel’s promise. He deserved to know.
“If it were up to me, she wouldn’t even be attending high school,” Thane snarled back. “What does she need with an education? There’s very little chance she’ll survive the final bat—” But Thane’s words choked off abruptly. All the warmth that had flooded through me a moment ago vanished.
“Murphy.” Hale’s voice rang with authority. After a moment, I heard Thane drag in a ragged breath.
“You see this, Hale?” Thane hissed. “He’s not fit for this task. He’s let his feelings for the demon overrule his common sense. Give me charge over her training and I guarantee—”
“Go home, Thane,” Hale said quietly.
“Hale,” Thane began.
“We all need some sleep. Things will seem clearer in the morning.”
There was a long moment of silence, then I heard another chair scrape the floor. I ducked back into the shadows at the top of the staircase as Thane marched to the front door. He placed a hand on the doorknob, then hesitated. He turned toward me, as though he’d known all along I was there, listening. His eyes found mine, steely and calculating. He lifted two fingers to brush his temple in a mocking salute, and then he was gone, pulling the door closed behind him.
I shrank back against the wall, frozen.
Hale and Dad walked to the front door a few moments later. They both looked exhausted.
“You know it’s time,” Hale said. “She has to start training again.” Dad didn’t answer. Hale put a compassionate hand on my dad’s shoulder. “I give you my word, Murphy. I’ll do my best to prepare her.”
Dad nodded slowly. Hale opened the door and walked into the night. Dad closed the door, then leaned his forehead against the solid oak. After a few moments, I drew back into the hall and returned to my room. How long he stood there, I don’t know. I fell asleep before I heard him move.
I found Lucas in his dream.
The campus of Coronado Prep loomed, threatening, against the background. Dark dream-clouds swirled with too much energy in the sky above us.
“Lucas,” I called. He turned to face me, and I saw the anxiety melt in his eyes. Overhead, the roiling motion of the clouds slowed.
“Is this a dream?” Lucas asked. I nodded. He was getting better at lucid dreaming every night. His brow furrowed as his thoughts turned inward. “But today at the mission...?”
“That was real,” I said.
“So they’re back.”
Around us, the campus of Coronado Prep faded, leaving us in the vague half-space between dreams. I reached for Lucas’s hand. He took it, drawing me close. This time, when our lips met, I didn’t have to pull away. There was no Lilitu storm to battle, because I couldn’t hurt Lucas in a dream. His arms tightened around me and I let myself sink into the sensations, relaxing for the first time since the Thrall had attacked.
I pushed thoughts of tomorrow from my mind.
By Saturday morning, my shoulder was good as new. I slept in, luxuriating in the moment. For this moment, no one was expecting or demanding anything from me. Even when Lucas vanished, his dream-presence snuffed out as he awoke next door, I lingered in the sweet remnants of our night together. Moments like this would become harder and harder to hold onto.
When I finally made my way down to the kitchen, mid-morning sunlight was streaming through the windows and I had to squint against the glare off the countertop.
Hale was sitting with Dad at the kitchen island, looking over some handwritten notes. They looked up as I entered.
“Morning,” I said automatically.
“Braedyn,” Hale greeted me with a cordial smile.
“How would you like your eggs?” Dad asked.
“I’m not that hungry.”
“Well, you might want to eat something anyhow,” Dad said. “How about an omelet? Green chili and cheddar cheese?”
I glanced back at Hale, putting two and two together. “Training?”
Hale nodded.
“In that case, omelet me up.”
“Sure thing, kiddo.” Dad smiled and ruffled my hair on his way to the stove. I grunted, irritated, and pulled my fingers through the wild tangle, trying to smooth it back down.
“So what are you two conspiring over this morning?” I asked Hale. Dad cracked some eggs into a bowl and began whisking them.
Hale glanced at his notes. “Your dad and I were considering what made the most sense for your training regimen.”
“We’re not just picking up where we left off?” I couldn’t keep my surprise out of my voice.
“I think, given the, uh, time constraints,” Hale glanced at my dad at the stove. Dad, acting like he wasn’t listening, poured the eggs into a frying pan where they hissed furiously. So this wasn’t his idea. I turned back to Hale. “I think it makes more sense to focus on skills you’ll be able to use sooner rather than later,” Hale explained.
“Sooner?” I looked at the scribbled notes, hoping to hide my unease from Hale.
“I just want to be prepared,” Hale said, smiling with manufactured confidence.
“What kind of skills?”
“More hand to hand,” Hale said. “And I’d like to start training you against multiple opponents.”
“What about sword pra
ctice?”
“No bladed weapons. Not for a while, at least.”
“Order up,” Dad said, sliding a steaming omelet onto a plate in front of me.
Hale stood. “I’ll see you in the armory in an hour.” He left, and I heard the front door close behind him.
I picked up a fork and started carving the steaming omelet into small chunks. Cheese and green chili sauce oozed out onto the plate and my mouth watered. I was aware of Dad watching me.
“So.” I moved the omelet around on my plate, waiting for the curls of steam to dissipate before taking a bite. “You think we’ll be fighting again soon?”
Dad sat next to me at the island. He studied his hands, trying to keep his voice light. “It’s possible.”
“Possible like it’s possible we’ll go for ice cream today—or possible like it’s possible there are aliens living on Mars and we don’t know it because they’re just really good at hiding?” When he didn’t answer, I nudged him with my elbow. “Dad?”
Dad looked up, and I saw tears standing in his eyes.
“Oh.” I swallowed hard, suddenly not hungry. “This is it, isn’t it? This is the final battle.”
Dad looked back at his hands. “It’s possible,” he said again.
One hour later I was standing beside Gretchen in the basement of the Guard’s house, taping my hands up for practice. Lucas and Matthew were already sparring on the mats behind us. Gretchen finished taping her hands and slapped them together, hard. As I’d feared, she seemed laser-focused on the job at hand. I sighed inwardly, knowing I’d walk out of here sore when training was over.
Gretchen turned on me abruptly. “So, listen,” she said. “Mr. Landon told me you saved Lucas’s life, drawing that Thrall away from him before she could split his head open.” Gretchen put a hand on my shoulder, giving it a brief squeeze. “I owe you one.”
“Uh, thanks?”
Gretchen wasn’t much for displays of emotion, so it wasn’t a surprise when she turned her back on me and walked out onto the mat. “You coming or not?” she called over her shoulder.
I hurried out to join her, growing more uneasy by the moment. It had been almost a year since I’d done any serious training. It had only taken a few weeks for me to recover from my injuries from our fight with Ais. Lucas’s injuries had taken much longer to heal. But neither of us had resumed training after that night. As I faced Gretchen, I wondered how much I’d forgotten.
Quite a bit, it turned out.
Gretchen wasn’t pulling her punches, so each time I moved too slowly or failed to anticipate an attack, I got an immediate reminder of why practicing was a good idea. Hale orbited the mat, offering suggestions and encouragement to both Lucas and me as we fought our respective sparring partners. Although, I noticed grimly, Matthew was taking it a lot easier on Lucas.
Distracted, I wasn’t prepared when Gretchen landed a fist in my side. I doubled over, winded. Gretchen danced back, waiting for me to recover. “I thought you owed me one,” I wheezed.
“Do you need to stop?” she asked.
“No,” I sighed, straightening.
“Then less talk, more concentration.” She moved forward, looking for an opening. This time I kept my eyes on her, so when she moved, I was ready. I blocked her punch and followed it up with a quick attack that forced her to step back, wheeling around to defend herself. As she struggled to regain her balance, I struck, connecting solidly.
She let out an oooof! of air, then grinned. “Nice,” she managed. “Keep your elbows in.”
We sparred for close to an hour, when Hale called a water break.
Lucas collapsed into a chair, letting some of his water dribble down the sides of his mouth as he gulped it in. I sat beside him, wiping sweat off my face with the edge of my t-shirt.
Matthew and Gretchen took their time with their water. A fine sheen of sweat gleamed along their brows, but nether was breathing heavily. Hale walked over to them to talk. I saw Gretchen glance at me, a calculating look in her eyes.
“Not looking forward to tomorrow morning,” Lucas said, rubbing a sore shoulder with one hand. I smiled in sympathy. Lucas sighed. “Don’t even. Tomorrow morning you won’t even have a bruise.”
“I don’t have to heal fast,” I said. “If you’d prefer, I can always leave your dreams alone.”
“Don’t you dare,” Lucas murmured, catching my hand in his and giving it a warm squeeze. His smile was warm, intimate. If this were a dream I’d lean forward to kiss him. But we weren’t dreaming.
“Okay, break’s over,” Hale said, turning. Lucas and I quickly released hands and Lucas let out a groan of despair. Hale saw Lucas’s ashen expression and smiled. “Why don’t you sit this one out?”
Lucas and I both sat back, relieved.
“Not you,” Gretchen said, giving me a wicked grin. “Come on. Up.”
“I’m going to show you a few techniques for handling multiple opponents,” Hale said. “Then we’ll get you started practicing them.” He gestured to Gretchen and Matthew. “Okay. Come at me.”
Gretchen and Matthew traded a quick look, evidentially agreeing on a plan of attack with a few terse gestures. They sprang at Hale, Gretchen from the front, Matthew from behind. Hale blocked Gretchen’s attack, but while his attention was focused on her, Matthew came behind him, pinning his arms behind his back. Gretchen renewed her attack on Hale, who kicked out at her, using her body as leverage to shove Matthew backwards. Matthew lost his grip on Hale. Hale rolled free, sweeping a foot behind Matthew’s leg and knocking the younger man flat on his back.
Matthew let out a grunt of surprised pain, and Gretchen’s eyes narrowed. Lucas let a low whistle escape beside me. I glanced at him and he grinned ruefully. “She’s pissed,” he murmured. “Hale better watch it.”
Gretchen danced back, judging Hale’s movement. She sprang at him and Hale had to throw himself awkwardly aside to miss the attack. As he scrambled to gain his footing, Gretchen threw herself on the ground at his feet, catching him around the knees with her legs and twisting. Hale went down like a tree felled by an axe, sprawling on the ground. Gretchen was on him in half a second, pinning him to the ground, fist poised to strike his throat.
“Yeah, okay,” Hale wheezed. “You win.”
Gretchen rolled off him and walked over to Matthew, who was smiling broadly. She offered him her hand, then helped him stand. Hale stood and gestured to me.
“I don’t know about this,” I said.
“It’s okay,” Hale said. “We’ll start slow.”
Slow, I discovered, was a relative term. Hale had Gretchen and Matthew attack at one quarter speed the first couple of times while he talked me through some strategies for dealing with them both at once. The main technique Hale seemed interested in teaching me involved a fairly quick series of moves to redirect the first attacker while repositioning for the second. Even at quarter-speed, I found myself breathing harder.
After we’d run through a few slow-motion fights, Hale stepped back.
“Right, let’s pick it up.” He nodded to Gretchen and Matthew.
Gretchen met my eye. “Ready?” she asked.
“I guess?” I barely had time to raise my hands in a defensive position before they sprang. My first instinct was to turn and run, but Hale was there, shouting instructions, so I did my best to fight back. Only, my timing seemed completely off. I’d turn my attention to one, just in time to give the second the perfect opening to tag me with a fist. To be fair, Gretchen and Matthew were fighting half-strength at best, but facing twice as many fists and feet as I was used to was overwhelming. Each time they drove me off the mat, Hale would call a stop to the fight and we’d reset in the center of the room. We drilled the same attack and defense over and over and over. Each time I took more punches than I gave, and each time I ended up getting driven off the mat. It was demoralizing.
By the end of the session, my whole body ached and my mind felt like it had been forced through a strainer. It was my turn to coll
apse into a chair. Lucas had a small towel and a bottle of water ready for me.
“I feel like a boxer in the ninth inning,” I groaned.
Lucas shook his head. “It’s rounds in boxing, not innings. But you did kind of look like a boxer by the end there.”
I was mid-gulp, so I couldn’t laugh in disbelief. Lucas read my expression and shook his head. “Look,” he said, pointing. I turned and saw Gretchen and Matthew, leaning against a table, gulping down their own waters. “You gave them a workout.”
Huh. They did look kind of exhausted. I finished the bottle of water and smiled, taking a deep breath.
“You did well, you two,” Hale said, joining us. “Why don’t you rest? We’ll take care of the equipment for today.”
I sank back into my chair, grateful for the break. Lucas and I sat in silence for a few minutes, recovering from the grueling session. I finished my water and noticed Lucas eyeing me, as if he wanted to ask a question.
“What?” I prompted.
“That double step thing Hale had you do—” Lucas said.
“You want me to show you?”
Lucas nodded and we walked into the middle of the room. Hale, Gretchen, and Matthew were busy rubbing oil into the daggers they’d practiced with before Lucas and I had joined the training session. They ignored us.
“It’d be easier to show you if you attacked first,” I said. Lucas, who’d had a chance to relax and recover while I was fighting Gretchen and Matthew, nodded. He attacked as Gretchen had done. I blocked him, then caught his arm in one of my fists. “From here, if there were a second opponent, you’d reposition your foot like this,” I settled back into a deeper stance and twisted Lucas’s arm, turning him on his heel. “Then while the first attacker is recovering, you have a few seconds to deal with the second.” I “fought” a second imaginary attacker as Lucas watched, curious.
“Okay,” he said. “You come after me.”
I waited for him to raise his hands, then rushed him. Lucas blocked my attack, but when he reached to grab my hand and reposition his foot he lost his balance and tripped back, pulling me down on top of him. My squeal broke into a peal of laughter as I looked down into Lucas’s chagrined face.
Incubus (The Daughters Of Lilith) Page 3
