No Kitten Around

by RJ Blain

  I returned to my seat beside her and pulled out a stack of sheets. The top declared we both had to do the same tasks to physically condition us. A pair of keys slipped out.

  “Keys?” I scooped them off my lap and held them up.

  Kennedy stole the papers and flipped through them, and she sucked in a breath. “I think she’s lost her mind, Reed.”

  “Why would you say that?”

  “There’s a property about ten miles outside of town. A lot. She claims she has leveled the lot, but we’re to turn the downed trees into lumber or firewood. The keys are for a cabin she dumped on the edge of the property. According to her, we should be grateful she catered to our delicate sensibilities and installed indoor plumbing but the rest of the creature comforts are our problem. We’re to report to the property when we aren’t working. While we’re there, we’re to be cutting wood like we mean it, and may God save our souls if we leave any logs by the time two weeks have come to an end.” Kennedy sighed. “She even included a picture of the lot.”

  I peeked. Hundreds of downed trees littered the image. “If she thinks we’re cutting all that up in two weeks, she’s mad.”

  “She’s going to be so disappointed,” Kennedy whispered.

  “They’re not huge trees,” I pointed out, tapping the photograph. “Did she specify how much needed to be viable lumber?”

  “No. She just said it had to be cleared and repurposed for something useful.”

  I allowed myself a smug grin. “From personal experience, it’s a lot faster to deal with a fallen log if you’re going to be using it to make a cabin. You just need to take all the straight ones, hack them to the right length, and remove the branches. We don’t even have to strip the bark. She didn’t say we had to turn them into planks. Everything too crooked or small to be used for logs we’ll cut into firewood and sort by tree type. We’ll save a lot of time that way.”

  “You sound too happy about this.”

  “Are you kidding? If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s cutting wood. But there’s method to her madness.”

  “There is?”

  I showed Kennedy my calloused hands. “After two weeks of cutting wood, the blisters you’ll inevitably get will be healing to callouses, and trust me when I say you want those callouses when you spend a lot of your time cutting wood. I have no doubt it applies to swords and Japanese death scythes.”

  Kennedy’s eyes widened, and she took my hand in hers, running her fingers over the toughened skin. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “What else is on the list?”

  “A lot of running, and she says there are monitors for us to use in the lodge to track how far we’ve run.”

  “Define a lot of running.”

  “Tomorrow, we’re to run a mile. The next day, we’re supposed to run two miles. She’s being generous and keeping us at two miles for a few days, after which we’re supposed to run three miles. Our last day of the schedule, she wants us running eight miles.”

  “All at once?” I blurted.

  “She didn’t specify. I assume she just means throughout the day.”

  “I bet she wants it all at once to build our endurance. Maybe we can run as much as we can and hope for the best?”

  “There’s no way we’re going to survive running eight miles and chopping up a bunch of wood.”

  “You’re probably right, but we’re just going to have to deal with it. Anything else?”

  “She very specifically states we’re not allowed to die, we’re supposed to keep hydrated, and that she expects us to eat properly while training. As it’s ‘impossible for mere humans to cook, do all assigned training, and run’ she will provide sufficient sustenance. We’re expected to eat every bite, or we’ll regret it.”

  “That sounds rather menacing.”

  “You only have yourself to blame for this. You hired an elf to teach you. What were you thinking?”

  “Obviously, I wasn’t.”

  “If you get us killed, I’m haunting your lanky ass for all of eternity, Reed.”

  “And if I don’t get us killed, you’ll be seeking out revenge for the rest of eternity for subjecting you to Sammy?”

  “That sounds about right.”

  “So, no matter what happens, you’re sticking around for all eternity?”

  “As a single lifespan is insufficient to make you properly pay for this travesty, yes.”

  I could work with that. “As I don’t want to know what will happen if we disappoint an elf, I think I’m going to see about using some vacation time and working at this cabin in the woods.”

  “Good lord, Reed. At least call it a cottage in the forest. That way, I won’t feel like we’re accepting an invitation to our murder.”

  I laughed because it was true. “I’m sorry. I’ll see if I can work at our lovely new cottage in the forest for the next two weeks.”

  “We’re doomed,” she predicted.

  I could only hope she wasn’t right.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Two weeks of following an elf’s every order went about as well as I could expect. The lot had more trees than I had anticipated, Lucavier demanded more of my time than I liked, and no matter what I did, someone found a way to interrupt me, resulting in a chaotic dive to finish everything I needed to do each day.

  The only thing I managed to fully accomplish was the running, and I only got that in because Kennedy refused to further disappoint the elf. All in all, she handled the two weeks far better than I did.

  For all Kennedy proclaimed she was terrified of the elf, the woman viewed the lot as a challenge to overcome, and she attacked the downed trees with a vengeance. Between the two of us, with her working most of the time while I helped whenever I had a free moment, we managed to clear a quarter of the property.

  I thought we’d done well.

  Samantha showed up on our last day, took a look at the lot, and shook her head. “Humans.”

  I recognized disgust when I heard it.

  “For the record, this is mostly your fault, Reed.”

  “Better than completely my fault, which was where we were at last week. But if I hadn’t tried to work and clear the lot, we could’ve gotten twice as much done. But I will say I do bear most of the burden of failure on this one. She did most of the chopping.”

  Samantha sighed and bowed her head. “Why did I agree to this?”

  “I’m pretty sure I’m paying you a lot of money to train us without killing and eating us,” I replied.

  “I’d say you’re correct, but in reality, an angel is footing the bill.”

  “But I made her, so it still counts. It’s forced payment to make her leave me alone. I’m pretty sure if I’d let her pick the instructor, I wouldn’t have gotten someone anywhere near as determined to see us succeed as you.”

  “Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr. Matthews.”

  “It’s just the truth. The way I view it, I spared Luna from a lie by making sure I actually hired the best instructor money could buy, and that’s you. I promised Kennedy I’d pay you extra to not eat her, so bill Luna extra for that.”

  “I always have enjoyed charging angels extra for my work. It’s a joy in life. Very well. I will add extra charges to ensure you both survive my training without being killed and turned into dessert.”

  “See, Kennedy? It’s not all bad. We’re not breakfast, lunch, or dinner. We classify as dessert.”

  “She may not kill and eat us, but she’s going to find some other way to punish us for failing to clear the lot,” Kennedy muttered.

  “I do enjoy when my students realize the truth without me having to go to extremes. It’s so painful for my students when I have to go to extremes. Show me your hands,” Samantha ordered.

  I held out my hands for her inspection, as did Kennedy.

  If I judged the elf by her hands, I’d believe her as delicate as a flower, but her slender fingers hid iron strength, and she traced her fingertips over my fingers, palm, and thu
mb. “These hands have seen a lot of work.”

  “I have about twenty years of firewood in my barn. I chopped wood to fill the time for the past two years,” I admitted. “I figured this was an exercise to build callouses on the hands so when we started working with the swords we’d have fewer blisters to contend with. I’m guessing ax callouses aren’t much different from sword callouses.”

  “Different, but similar enough to mitigate the worst of it, yes.” Samantha turned to Kennedy, whose hands had suffered far worse than mine. “And yours are developing well. You’ll progress slower than Mr. Matthews, but you’ll do.”

  “Reed, please,” I said.

  “You’re not going to make me run extra miles?”

  “You did as told, so no. I don’t punish those who give their best effort, and you have. I may be unyielding, but despite being an elf, I’m not unnecessarily cruel. I expect your best. You gave it. You learned that lesson already.”

  “I probably deserve the extra miles.” Admitting my faults didn’t bother me, and I shrugged. “I tried to juggle everything, but I recognize I fell short.”

  “If I were to compare you to Kennedy without considering other factors, I would agree. You act like I’m not aware of what you’ve been doing for the past two weeks. Silly human. The only running you will do is when I chase you with a sword because you do not learn what I wish to teach you fast enough. Pain is an excellent teacher when time is short, and I suspect you do not have as much time as you wish you did to learn what I must teach you.” Samantha circled me, and if I were to assign her a lethality rating, I’d rather swim with sharks while covered head to toe in paper cuts. “Within five months, I will make you capable of standing up against even an angel.”

  Kennedy sucked in a breath. “That’s going to take a miracle.”

  “Don’t look so alarmed, Kennedy. He’s part angel, part demon, and enough human to counter most of his elven heritage. Demons and angels alone take to the sword. The elf in him will take care of the rest.”

  I frowned. “While I’ve asked for a genetic testing to find out what my unknown percentages were, wouldn’t elf have already been easily identified?”

  “Not exactly. There are various branches of elves. You’re from an extinct line. In short, there are no more full elves of your heritage left. They died out long ago. Frankly spoken, anyone with any sense is grateful they’re gone.”

  Curiosity got the better of me, forcing me to ask, “Why?”

  “They’d eat anything that moved including each other. They had no grasp of morality, no sense of honor, nothing beyond a desperate need to satisfy their relentless hunger. Their breeding practices were, at best, abhorrent. Had you been more elf and less angel, I expect you would have been killed shortly after birth. Elves of your type are born dangerous and hungry. But while you’re expressing genes from your heritage and your percentage is higher than it should be indicating your elven heritage has overwritten other genes in its effort to regain dominance, you are expressing the safer genes.”

  My eyes widened. “The safer genes?”

  “Well, you didn’t attempt to eat your mother’s placenta, which is excellent evidence the more dangerous genes weren’t expressed. You also didn’t attempt to eat your mother. Show me your teeth,” she ordered.

  As I had no doubt she’d hold me down and peel my lips away from my teeth, I obeyed.

  She pointed at my canines. “They’re slightly more pronounced than a regular human’s but within acceptable standards; unless someone was aware of your ancestry, no one would suspect your teeth are more pointed because of your elven heritage. Should your teeth be examined, I expect they’ll be harder than standard humans. You’ve probably never had a cavity in your life; elves don’t get them. You won’t experience any tooth decay, either. Should your teeth get knocked out or weaken, you’ll grow new ones, one of the advantages of being an elf. That’s also why, unlike Kennedy here, you’re unafraid of me. I had suspected elven heritage, but the specific breed surprised me. I have high hopes for you, but I’m afraid you’ll be very busy for the next few months. When you are not dealing with human matters, I will be transforming you into a living weapon. You aren’t an elf, not in full, but your breed will make up for your shortcomings, as will your angelic and demonic heritages. It’s not often I get to work with such strong base material.”

  Kennedy sighed, her shoulders slumping. “I’m going to be the weak link, aren’t I?”

  “You’ll never compare to an elf. That’s true. But you have a more important role.”

  That caught Kennedy’s attention. “I do?”

  “You do. You will learn to use your Japanese death scythe and your katana, but those weapons are not your true strength. Really, I’m very pleased with how this arrangement worked out. And I will enjoy scalping that angel for extra money under the guise of ensuring your wellbeing. No, you don’t need my assurances of your survival. You have something better.”

  I suspected elves lived to confuse humans. “What are you talking about?”

  “You’ll find out soon enough. Some secrets are best left discovered naturally. But don’t worry. It won’t hurt you—or her. Here are my expectations for you until we have completed training. Every day, rain or shine, you will come here when you aren’t working or sleeping. On weekends, we will go to your property in Gypsum Creek. You are expected to work as normal, both of you. Should you have to travel, Kennedy, you will do exercises as ordered. I will prepare your meals, as I require you both to be healthy and humans tend to be frailer than elves. No whining. Should you become ill, I will call for a doctor—and don’t worry about telling me if you’re sick. I’ll be able to smell it on you. Likely, I will know before you will. You will trust my judgment in these matters. Understood?”

  “Understood,” we chorused.

  “Good. Before you can wield a weapon, you must understand how it is made. For this, we will spend half of our time at Hamhock’s forge so you can learn from her. To truly become one with a blade, you must understand and embrace everything about it. From raw ore to polished steel, when I am finished with you, your blades will be a part of your soul. You will miss it when it isn’t in your hand. You will long for the feel of it cutting through the air. It will become another part of you. Everything from every breath you draw to how you stand will be retaught to you. Everything you know is wrong for wielding a blade of any sort. But most of all, remember this truth: the only failure in this is not giving me your very best. Give me your very best, even when your sweat pours from you in a flood and you bleed, and you will transform yourself from nothing into something. Of that I have no doubt. Are you ready?”

  Kennedy gulped but nodded.

  “I’ll have to be,” I said, expecting the worst but daring to hope I’d survive five months of training with an elf determined to make me something more—and possibly less—than human.

  Then again, I’d never really believed myself truly human anyway.

  Had I known what was in store for me, I would’ve taken a page out of Kennedy’s book and run. Samantha would’ve chased, but the slim chance of escape tempted me. Learning from Hamhock involved working the billows to build our muscle strength; I had an easier time of it than Kennedy. Kennedy struggled, but she’d changed since we’d been in college and discovering the world wasn’t as friendly a place as we’d hoped.

  Quit was no longer part of her personal dictionary.

  I wanted it to be a part of mine, but reality insisted on screwing with me, my damned cat liked the sadistic elf and whined if I even considered running for the hills, and Lucavier Buioni insisted on making my work life complicated. The deeper I dove into his activities, the less I liked having anything to do with him. The extended contract negotiations were already giving me a headache. At his insistence, I’d agreed to meet him to finalize negotiations at a charity event—a bloody gala—set to take place shortly after I was scheduled to complete training with Samantha.

  He reminded me of a complex
puzzle, one I needed to solve without any idea of the final picture and no edges to work with. As I thought, all of the contracts connected, but beyond the obvious potential for a monopoly, I couldn’t figure out his end game. What was the point of throwing millions of dollars at my company for a chance to work with me on even one of them?

  In a way, I was grateful that Samantha kept Kennedy busy during work hours; it made using practitioner magic easier, and I’d relied too heavily on tricks to hear truth in another’s words.

  It’d started creeping in on my life without the intact runes fueling the magic. The CDC called it an imprint, a consequence of using the same magic too often.

  I figured I’d accidentally woken part of my angelic heritage.

  Until I’d started hearing the echoes of truth and lies in my day-to-day life, I hadn’t realized how often people lied. Kennedy didn’t lie often, and it was always the little white lies meant to make someone else feel better. Sometimes she lied to make herself feel better, sometimes she lied to convince Samantha she wasn’t ready to crawl in a hole and quit.

  She never lied to me.

  Too busy to stop and breathe, I juggled work and torture sessions with Samantha. When I thought of using a sword, I thought of duels and directly battling an opponent. In practice, I spent very little time battling anyone but myself. Most of the time, I repeated the same motion over and over until my body remembered it better than I did. Samantha watched like a hawk on the prowl for dinner, and if I did anything wrong, she showed me why the motions were critical.

  Pain taught me the most lessons, and not a day went by without new bruises. When I wasn’t working, I held a sword. Despite my ax callouses, I bled doing my best to meet Samantha’s standards. Kennedy bled, too, which bothered me more than anything else. While she worked, too, often spending three to five days out of town doing the FBI's bidding, she always returned with torn hands.

  Every cut and bruise woke something in me. At the beginning, I suppressed my irritation; my hands fared no better, and I refused to belittle Kennedy's efforts no matter how much I disliked her being in pain. The days faded into months, but while my hands healed and hardened, Samantha found some way to push Kennedy to new limits, bruising and toughening her hands beyond what I endured.