Then we’d all have the energy to rebuild.
“It’s hot in the barn. I let Archer and Nightingale out to run around,” Peter explained.
“You know there’s still a hole in the fence,” I said, ready to run out and corral the horses before Archer could escape.
“Xander’s repairing it now,” Peter said, waving me back.
“Oh.” I tried to keep my voice casual, but Peter’s brows rose and I knew I’d failed. “Where’s Eamon?” I asked before Peter could bring up the elephant in the room. Or one of them anyway.
“Getting ready,” he said.
“Getting ready for what?”
“He’s going to work with you today.”
“Work with me how?” I asked, suspicious now.
Peter grimaced and his voice dropped, the regret and worry clear as he said, “Eamon and I discussed it last night. I’ve avoided it long enough. Maybe too long. You need real combat training, Alina.”
“I have combat training,” I argued. “You haven’t let me miss a day of practice since we got here and the extra sessions we’ve been doing for the past week—”
“Are not effective.” He shook his head. “You need an opponent stronger than me. Stronger than you. Someone more challenging. We need to up the stakes to teach you how to operate under pressure.”
“How is Eamon going to do that?” I asked, but I had a feeling I already knew and it was not my idea of fun.
Then again, at least it wasn’t Xander.
Peter smiled, but I didn’t miss the tiny lines of worry around his eyes. “I’ll meet you out back in twenty minutes,” was all he said.
I sighed and watched as he turned and walked out.
When he was gone, I reached for the coffeepot and poured a refill. If I was going to get eaten by the galaxy’s biggest wolf, I wanted to be caffeinated first.
Peter was already waiting for me by the access doors in the backyard when I walked out. Eamon waited beside him, and in the light of day, he was somehow even bigger than I remembered. His large eyes followed me as I crossed the yard and I felt his gaze sizing me up as one would an opponent.
I resisted the urge to do the same—or to look out toward the south fence where Xander was apparently patching the hole. So far, I was doing a pretty good job of pretending last night hadn’t gone down the way it did, but I was pretty sure one look at the hottie from back home and things would get awkward real quick.
“Ready?” Peter asked.
“Not especially,” I said. And because I couldn’t stand that no one had mentioned it yet, I added, “Why are we doing this, anyway? Shouldn’t we be packing our belongings and heading for the other side of the planet after what happened last night?”
Eamon and Peter exchanged a look.
“What?” I demanded.
“We’re not moving,” Peter said.
“What do you…?” I trailed off as his meaning dawned on me. My palms went sweaty and the water bottle in my hand slipped a little. “But we’re not staying here either, are we?”
Peter’s gaze shifted away, and he reached for the double wooden doors that lay flat on the ground beside the barn. “We can talk about this later,” he said. “Right now, you need to practice with Eamon. We all need to be ready.” He grabbed the handle and pulled until the door opened upward.
Ready to kill.
He hadn’t said it aloud, but I understood. We weren’t moving because there was nowhere left to move. Because Earth was no longer our home anymore. Which meant we were leaving—not just this house but this particular galaxy. And I did not want to think too hard about all that just yet. Not when my insides already felt like a wind tunnel. It was too much. Too fast. Even though I’d known this day would come. I just needed a minute to take one damned breath before it all snowballed into something that couldn’t be stopped or slowed.
My future was right around the corner now, just like it had been all this time. Why did I feel so unprepared for it?
My panic was cut short as I realized Peter and Eamon were watching me. I blinked, working hard to draw back from the giant cliff’s edge that was my life. This moment. That’s where I should focus now. On the thing that came next. Everything else could wait.
I drew a breath and squared my shoulders. Instead of arguing or pushing for more, I looked at the open doors and then back to Eamon.
“You want to do this down there?” I asked. “We won’t all fit.”
“I’m not going,” Peter said as if that solved it.
My brows shot up. “I hate to point out the obvious, but Peter isn’t the problem.”
“I’ve already been down there,” Eamon assured me. “We’ll make it work. A tight space will take away your resources. You will rely only on your own energy and gifts to defeat me. And if our energies get too big, the tunnel will contain them and keep from drawing unwanted attention.”
I sighed. There was really no point in arguing. Peter was stubborn enough on his own. With Eamon on his side, there would be no winning this argument. “Fine but if I pass out from lack of oxygen, it’s on you.”
Peter smiled crookedly. “Good thing you don’t actually need the stuff to survive, eh?”
I ignored him. That was so not the point.
Single file, Eamon and I headed down the set of narrow stairs that led to the storm shelter Peter and I used as our underground training room. The way down was backlit by the sun above but it suddenly went pitch black as Peter closed the heavy wooden doors behind us. My steps faltered, but just as quickly as the blackness had closed in, the space was lit again. The light projected around me from the inside out, casting a beam in all directions, all the way down the stairs and into the tunnel beyond.
In front of me, Eamon had no light of his own, but that hadn’t slowed him. I suspected his sharp, animal eyes didn’t need one.
At the bottom of the stairwell, our only option was a sharp left turn. I followed Eamon into the tunnel, adjusting my breath as the air became stale and stuffy. A moment later, the narrow space opened into a single hollow room. We were about thirty feet underground now with thick stone walls sealing us in on all sides.
No lights hung from the ceiling or walls, but then I didn’t need them. My internal lamp was enough to illuminate the entire space. Eamon filed in and positioned himself against one wall while I took the other. In the far corner, I watched as a spider scurried out of sight. It disappeared between a crack in the rock walls, and I shrank back. I didn’t do spiders. Heiress to the biggest kingdom in the Ursuna system, and I couldn’t even face off with a damned arachnid.
Eamon was about to be really disappointed—if he wasn’t already.
Oblivious to the eight-legged pest, Eamon was inspecting a large burn mark on the wall beside him. “You did this?” he asked, looking over at me.
“Sure,” I said with a shrug.
“Your glow is that hot?”
“If I push it hard enough, sure,” I said, confused about where this was going. “Why?”
“Does Peter also burn things with his glow?” Eamon asked, and I knew if he was capable of frowning, he would right now. Already, his large canines protruded from his half-open mouth.
“No. Why? Is that bad?” I asked.
“It’s uncommon.”
“Oh.” Now I frowned. Peter had never really seemed that surprised by my gift. If anything, he was impatient for me to develop it further. “I thought Zorovians all had something extra,” I said, thinking of Peter’s cloaking ability. Not to mention… “Xander had that light-sword thing going on…”
My cheeks heated—mostly because I hadn’t meant to actually mention his name out loud—and I was suddenly glad for the way the light played off the walls. Maybe it would be enough to hide the flush.
“Xander’s glow has an electrical current that is also very rare. But your heat is something different. I haven’t seen anything capable of a burn like this. Not even from you before. How did you develop this?”
I shrugge
d. “Peter’s not exactly one to take no for an answer. He pushed me until it just sort of came out of me during training one day. After that, his saintly patience and brute stubbornness wouldn’t let me get comfortable. I’ve been practicing every single day since we got here.”
Eamon’s eyes lit with amusement as I described Peter. “Huh,” he grunted and looked back at the wall once before asking, “Does it burn flesh the same way?”
My eyes widened. “You want me to burn you? On purpose?”
“I want you to try,” he corrected.
I put a hand on my hip.
“I’m tougher than I look,” he added, nearly growling as he laughed at my obvious horror.
I stared at him with wide eyes. “You say that now, but Peter would kill me if I burnt your fur off. Besides, the desert gets cold at night.”
Now, the growl grew loud as Eamon laughed until his belly shook. “Watch it, Empress. The last Zorovian to speak to me with such threats at least had the confidence and the power to back it up.”
I cocked my head. “Who was it?”
His eyes twinkled, and I knew he’d wanted me to ask that. “Your mother.”
“Really?” I blinked. “And did she follow through on her threat?”
His gaze sharpened in some sort of silent challenge. “Only once.”
I wanted to ask when and why and what happened. But I had a feeling he wasn’t going to tell me that. Not yet. “If I burn you, will you tell me about her?”
The amusement faded. “Peter has not told you himself?”
I shook my head. “Peter doesn’t say much about either of my parents. He said it was for my safety. And sanity, I guess. But I think it’s hard for him.”
He nodded. “It’s hard for all of us. Next time you face your enemy, you will be ready.”
“Look, I appreciate your confidence, but you saw me with that Shadow. I’ve been working with Peter for five years straight, and I still froze when it mattered.”
“You underestimate yourself. You saw my method last night.” I snorted to let him know I sure as shit did see it, but he went on, “In order to take that Shadow down, I had to sink claws and teeth into his flesh.”
“Trust me, I know,” I said, shuddering and forcing the images out of my mind before they could scar me all over again.
“But you have the power to defeat them without even touching them.”
“Like Xander,” I said.
Eamon nodded. “We are outnumbered, and if we are going to win, we must all learn to fight using the gifts we’ve been given by Eloisha herself, including you.”
I hesitated, but it wasn’t a matter of not believing. Or not wanting to fight. If I hurt Eamon, I’d never forgive myself. And Peter would kill me. “If I need to learn to fight like Xander, why isn’t he here teaching me?” Not that I wanted to spend time with him in close quarters like this, but I was curious.
Eamon hesitated, and I knew the answer right away. “Xander is going to work with Peter,” he said carefully.
Right. Meaning: he didn’t want to work with me. I blew out a breath and rather than pretend I didn’t care, I let my irritation fuel me. Suddenly, a fight with a deadly predator didn’t sound so bad.
“Tell you what,” Eamon said. “For every burn you give me, I will tell you one thing about your parents.”
I eyed him. It was the best deal I was going to get. “What do you want me to do exactly?”
“Attack me,” Eamon said simply.
So I did.
Chapter Seven
The room sparked with a bright beam. Like a lightning flash, it flared and then receded. Nothing like Xander’s killing blow from the night before, but I wasn’t going to attempt to murder my new wolf friend right out of the gate.
Still, I knew right away this fight was going to be much different from the practices with Peter. For one thing, I hit my target. Peter was right; I’d been holding back.
As the flash of light struck its mark, Eamon grunted.
He took a step sideways, and I caught sight of a singed patch of fur on his right shoulder. “I’m sorry,” I said, wincing as a small plume of smoke rose from the spot.
“Don’t be.” He straightened and drew a breath before facing me. “You are better than you think. Why didn’t you use this last night?”
“I…” How could I explain practicing down here was a whole different ball game from the real thing? How could I admit the truth was I’d choked last night? “I guess the live version was a little more intense than zapping soda cans in the backyard.”
Eamon grunted, clearly not satisfied. “Again.”
“Are you sure?” I pointed gingerly. “Because you’re still smoking.”
“Again,” he repeated, growling the words.
I gathered my heat, calling it to me as I readied myself to strike a second time.
Before I could manage a single lightning bolt, Eamon leaped. Unprepared, I managed to stumble out of the way just in time and Eamon crashed into the wall behind me. The stone crumbled a little on impact, small pebbles and dust falling to the ground under the force.
But Eamon didn’t stop there.
He turned and came again, his snout twisting as he bared his teeth at me. I screamed, dodging his giant claws and even longer teeth as his jaw snapped—just barely missing my fingertips when I dove out of his way again.
“What the hell are you doing?” I shrieked.
“Stop me,” he growled.
“I was trying.”
“Not all battles can be won at a distance. Fight me with your fists,” he shot back.
“But you just said I had to use my—”
My words were cut short as he leaped at me again. This time, when I sidestepped his paw, I rounded on him and shoved hard. The extra momentum sent him crashing hard into the far wall. Stone rained down on his head, and I coughed as the dust in the air clogged my throat.
“This place is too small,” I said.
Eamon stood, blocking the exit as he glared at me. “Then leave. If you can,” he said.
Then he leaped again.
Pointed teeth scraped my arm as I whirled away. The sting left behind let me know he’d drawn blood.
It was like a dance then, with Eamon and I whirling and lunging and leaping back and forth across the stone room. A burnt smell hung in the dusty air, and I was somewhat satisfied to see more than one singed patch of fur on Eamon’s body. But then his claws and teeth caught my flesh just deep enough for me to realize this dance could quickly turn deadly.
For the first time, maybe ever, I was insanely grateful for every bit of the training and exercise Peter had ever forced upon me. Still, it wasn’t enough to do more than hold Eamon off.
“You’re holding back,” he accused.
I planted my feet, glaring back at him as my patience broke. I was sweating and dirty and bleeding. And my water bottle had gotten crushed during our last skirmish. Now, I was pissed.
“So are you,” I snarled.
His eyes gleamed. “Not anymore.”
This time, when he leaped, he made contact, shoving me to the ground and pinning me underneath his massive weight. I groaned as my elbow and hip hit the stone hard enough that black spots coated my vision.
Eamon eased up, and I rolled sideways, shoving out bolts of hot lightning from my chest until all the fur lining his face and front paws was singed off. Eamon backed away to avoid further damage, growling at me as his fur smoked and burned.
“Are we done now?” I asked, not bothering to get up until Eamon nodded.
“For now.”
I snorted and rolled slowly to my feet, rubbing lightly at my elbow. I was going to have a bruise later for sure, which wouldn’t look nearly as bad as the half-dozen claw marks covering my arms. Most were thin enough they were already starting to scab but there were two deeper gashes on my forearm, both bleeding heavily. I stared down at the blood dripping from my fingertips onto the dirt floor, shocked I hadn’t noticed it before.
Good to know for my next fight. Irritating now, considering I was probably going to have to trash the shirt. Limping, I headed for the now-unobstructed tunnel opening. I didn’t even want to see my hip until I could find an ice pack to put on it. “I’m going to get cleaned up,” I said, wondering if the blood would come out of my jeans.
Without a word, Eamon let me go.
Peter wasn’t waiting when I made it to the surface. That was fine. He could hear my thoughts on his little “training exercise” later.
“That took longer than I would have guessed. Then again, you always did take after your dad in a fight.”
I jumped at the sound of Xander’s voice behind me and almost decided to ignore him completely considering how weird everything felt. Then his words registered. I stopped and turned to look at him, blinking to clear my head at the sight of those eerily familiar eyes locked on mine.
“Are you here to fulfill my deal with Eamon?” I asked.
He frowned. “What deal?”
“For every burn I gave him, he agreed to tell me something about my parents.”
“You burned him?” he asked, clear disbelief written all over his face.
I raised my chin. “More than once.”
“Huh.” He studied me for a moment, looking like any second he would just turn and walk away. Then his eyes caught on the blood coating my arm and his mouth fell open. “Shit, Alina. You need to get that cleaned up.”
“I will. Calm down,” I protested but he was already steering me toward the house at a near-run. His fingers were warm on my skin. A nice kind of warm. I liked it.
“Here, put your arm under the water.” Xander turned the kitchen faucet on and yanked my arm underneath the cold stream. It was enough to make me forget my enjoyment of his touch.
I glared at him. “Your bedside manner could use some serious work.”
“Where are your bandages?” he asked, ignoring my comment.
I sighed. I had a strong feeling this would all be easier if I just let it happen. “In the cabinet,” I said. “There.”
The Girl Who Called The Stars Page 6
