by K. F. Breene
“Do you know what you just did?” I asked with a grin as Cole cradled the side of his head. He shook his head, then snapped it back in our direction, looking at me. I pointed at Penny. “He gets real mad. He moves slowly, though. You’ll be okay.”
I grabbed a couple of the smaller practice swords.
“Wait…” Penny’s face turned bleach white, her hands now hanging loose at her sides. Sometimes she was so determined to show me up that she forgot what was at stake. I considered it my duty to remind her. “No.” She pointed at me, but her guilt was etched clearly on her face.
I laughed, picking out Roger’s tree-trunk frame amidst the reeds. “Good luck. Light his fur on fire. He hates that.”
“I’m not associated with her,” Penny yelled, and waved her hand. She shook her head for good measure, then pointed at me again. “I was forced into this friendship. If you knew me, you’d know that is entirely plausible.”
“He does know you. He’s not fooled,” I called back.
Cole started toward her.
“Tom Hanks’s doppelganger! I don’t want to fight! I’m not the fighting sort!” Penny started backing away, but I could already feel the spells stuffing the air. She was absolutely amazing under pressure, and given she had sneaky magic that allowed her to borrow the gifts of the people around her, she could use my magic to defend herself. Poor Cole. He’d learn to pick on someone his own size, and save the small, mousy types for the power hitters.
Roger took a wooden sword to his side on purpose, making the opponent commit, turning and lifting his arm so it would hit him in the thick slab of lateral muscle. That wasn’t the place you went for with a shifter like him. It wouldn’t hurt him with a practice sword, and it wouldn’t kill him with a blade. He was pure strength and power. He’d spent his life building that up just so he could withstand basic attacks. His brawn alone would make him a solid predator, but paired with his superior intellect and uncanny ability to read his opponents, it made him nearly unstoppable. It was why he was the alpha of the North American pack, generally heralded as one of the best alphas in the world. It was also why I always got a little nervous around him. But if Vlad didn’t give me pause, Roger sure shouldn’t either. I just had to rip off the Band-Aid.
“Hey, little doggy.” I whistled like I was calling him.
His focus snapped to me, and he took a jab to the shoulder without flinching. Boy did he hate when I riled him up.
“Here, little doggy, come to your master.” I whistled again, and then used air to push the fae he was fighting out of the way.
I needed to get the shifters really fighting. If these people were wary of them, all the more reason to show them what the shifters could do. Respect might come from that wariness. Or at least a hasty truce. I was no master negotiator.
Roger turned to me slowly, and a sheen of green magic flowed around his body. Good. I considered that progress.
“Don’t make me do it again!” Penny screeched right before a yeti’s pain-filled roar rolled across the field. “Sasquatch-shedding sonuva donkey! That throw was Reagan’s idea!”
She’d be fine. She was still stuck in the phase of blaming everything on me.
Roger rolled his shoulders. “This isn’t the time for this,” he said as I stopped twenty feet from him. I wanted a running start.
“Two thises don’t make a right.” I hefted the practice sword. “It’s a practice field. It’s the perfect time for this. And look.” I tossed it up, grabbed the blade end, and threw it like a knife. It did a lazy half-turn, right for him. He stepped to the side, and it flew past him. “That would’ve hit you. See? I have aim.”
“I commanded the shifters to stay in human form. You undermined that command.”
I furrowed my brow, then gestured to Penny, who looked pretty funny jogging backward and wagging her fingers, her hands raised in front of her body. I couldn’t feel the spell from the distance, but given she was still facing the (quite slow) lumbering beast rather than blindly running in the other direction, she was handling everything pretty well. The spell wouldn’t be that nasty. It would just really hurt. “I didn’t do anything. She did it. Punish her.”
“Do you think I’m stupid?” Roger asked.
“Do you really want me to answer that in front of all these people? It wouldn’t be a good look.” His stare made my bowels a little watery. So I gave him a little spur to get things moving. “Big, dumb doggy.”
The green, swirling magic intensified. He was trying to keep control. The guy was hard to crack.
“Isn’t it a rule that shifters can defy a command when their life is in danger?” I asked, going about this a different way. I didn’t want to keep belittling him, or he might hold a grudge. Or more grudges. But I did need him to change, so as to allow his people to change. Romulus said that shifters and fae fought incredibly well together—they loved the pairing—and these particular fae would never see that unless the shifters were in animal form. Roger needed to make that command, and to do so, he needed to give in to his beast.
But also, trying to get him to lose control was a little bit of fun, and I was doing insanely well on my job of turning everyone’s attention our way. This whole situation checked all the boxes. As long as Roger didn’t hate me forever because of it, obviously.
“Cole’s life was not in danger,” he growled.
“I suppose not, though Penny could certainly take him on. But I was talking about you.”
“We’re on the same team, Reagan Somerset.”
He’d used my full name. He knew what was coming.
I grinned. “I know. You’re welcome.”
I slapped him with air. Then I ran at him, catching up as he tumbled ass over head across the ground, and thwapped him in the head with the wooden sword, something that required perfect timing. I only got it wrong a couple of times—slapping his face—before getting it right. The instant he completely stopped, his legs flopping everywhere, I jabbed him between the butt cheeks. Strangely, he didn’t jolt as I would’ve. Then again, he probably hadn’t occasionally gotten prodded in the wrong hole during an intimate moment. That kind of thing made a person jumpy.
He jumped up as if on springs, so I punched him in the face. He jolted backward. I kicked him in the balls. Would nothing break this guy and force him into his wolf form?
“Enough, Reagan,” he commanded, and a stray thought curled around me. Or I’ll make you beg for mercy.
“Oh, kinky.” I jabbed at his jugular, expecting him to dodge—which he did—and roundhouse-kicked him in the face. He staggered back. You couldn’t increase face muscle like body muscle. It left him wide open to people who knew what they were doing. Or to those who were crazy enough to try.
“Here, doggy.” I whistled again, back-pedaling a little. Hunching over, he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. A sliver of red interrupted the line of his lips. “Does the itty-bitty-widdle doggy want a treat?”
“You sound ridiculous.”
“You look ridiculous. Your mom said so, and that’s saying something.”
“Two saids don’t make a right.” He ran at me.
“Different tense! Doesn’t count! Don’t steal my jokes—” I dodged his punch, felt his other hand press against my side, and knew I’d screwed up. “And don’t steal my moves!”
His other hand touched down on my ribs, and just like that, I was airborne, his strength easily that of an elder vampire.
I wrapped my magic around me and slowed my flight, then stopped, hovering in the air. His eyes widened.
“Yep. This bitch can hover. And you are starting to annoy me. Your life is officially in danger, Roger. Give in. Fight me how you were meant to fight me. Show these little fae what an alpha shifter can really do. Fight me!”
I lit him on fire. First his clothes, then his hair, definitely his eyebrows. Callie was on hand, after all. She could fix him right up.
He took a running leap at me, ignoring the pain. Ignoring the burns. He would heal
, and he knew it. He also knew I wouldn’t actually kill him.
He did not know, however, how far I was willing to go to press the issue.
I pushed up higher into the air so he couldn’t reach me, then encased him in a bonfire. The heat was reduced, so it wouldn’t kill him nearly as quickly as real fire, but it would hurt more than the beejeebus.
He screeched, and I called that a huge win. I wished I’d recorded it. I had never heard that sound from his mouth.
A moment later, a wolf on fire jumped from the flames, big, burly, and mad as hell.
“Now.” I lowered to the ground as he rolled around to douse the flames. I sent a shower of ice to put them out and ease the pain while he healed. I took off my pouch and tossed it aside, then took off my throwing knives, daggers, sword—all of it. It would be his wolf, and Lucifer’s heir. These fae would get a taste for what real fighting was. If they planned on lasting any time at all in a war, they’d need to up their game. Or at least start to fight dirty. Roger and I would set the bar quite high. It would help us all.
“Wait.” A familiar voice rang out across the practice field.
“Dang it,” I murmured as Roger got to his paws, his head a little lowered, his eyes on me. He wanted blood. I cocked my head, my focus sliding back toward him. “Come at me, bro.”
“Wait, please,” Romulus said, and clearly the trial wasn’t happening right now. Pity.
I clenched my jaw. I did not need Romulus’s politeness to distract me.
“Alpha.” Romulus put a hand on his heart as he stepped to the side, making a triangle out of our group with lots of space between the points. “Your control is incredible. We are all amazed. Very few could resist going against their word under such conditions.”
A thick line of fae stood at the edge of the grass, watching. Everyone had stopped what they were doing to look our way. Cole lay on his back some ways off, his arms and legs spread wide, making a star with his body. Penny and someone else crouched beside him, probably trying to patch him up.
“I must side with Reagan on this, however.” Romulus bowed. “You should be fighting in your animal forms. Had I known you’d decided against it, I would have raised the issue myself. Fighting beside shifters in their animal form is a joy few here have experienced. I would ask that you give them a taste. A real taste. Stage a battle with your shifters against these custodes.” I knew custodes meant warrior fae. It was what they called themselves. I had no idea why. “Seeing your pack work together will open a few eyes.”
Roger lowered his head just a bit, but he didn’t change back into his human form. Given his fur was still smoking in places, it was probably because he wanted to use all his energy to heal.
“Now.” Romulus turned to me. And bowed.
“Hi,” I said awkwardly. “Nice to see you again. Kinda.”
“I realize I am interrupting a practice session, but I wonder if Roger would do me the great honor of stepping aside so that I might try my hand at Lucifer’s heir?”
I took a deep breath. “I’d really rather not. Do you heal quickly? No, I’d rather not.”
Though I kind of did, if only so I could punch him in the mouth for always making me feel so freaking socially defunct. Vampires might be equally debonair and polite, but most of them were morally bankrupt, and they all changed into horrible monsters. That evened the scales a little. This fae was just…lovely. Attractive, pleasant without being sickly sweet, polite, and morally sound—he was really tough to be around, if I was being honest. Total goody two shoes.
“Please, come. We will make a show of it.” He motioned behind him. “Half the village has assembled to watch your fighting. They’ve already heard rumors of you from our journey here. They wish to see what you can do.”
“I’ll gladly show them…with Roger. He has it coming.”
“Yes, of course. Only”—he smiled—“he does not have the capability to use hellfire.”
I turned my head to the side and squinted one eye just a little, thinking, trying to confuse him with my body movements. If I didn’t know what it meant, he surely wouldn’t, yet he’d think he was missing something.
“Yeah, but that doesn’t actually work on me,” I said.
“Correct. And I’d like everyone to see it.” He clasped his hands behind his back. “In case they doubt.”
So there were doubters. I honestly didn’t care, but had the feeling he’d keep pushing for this.
I glanced behind him at the crowd again, not because I felt pressured to perform for them, but because it was a good showing. Fighting the boss would probably bring out a few more, thus emptying out the village and giving Darius ample room to skulk around.
“Yeah, sure, why not.” I pointed at Roger. “This is postponed. I will make you do doggy tricks before we leave this place, just you wait.”
He backed away slowly and then turned toward Cole, who was still lying in the grass. Baby.
Penny had left him and sidled closer to the practice field, picking at her nail, watching me. If I could find a way to get her involved, I would, but Romulus was talking about hellfire, and that was one sandbox she couldn’t play in.
It was a sandbox Romulus shouldn’t be playing in either. Not with me, anyway. Some of my reactions were built in from years and years of practice. If he triggered one, I would fire back. And I didn’t think he could withstand hellfire like I could. I really didn’t want to kill the Second Arcana.
Sixteen
“As far as weapons”—Romulus glanced at everything I’d set aside already—“I see you did not plan to use them.”
“I was going to fight my magic against his. He doesn’t use weapons.”
“I do, however.”
“Right. Well, go for it. I can’t really stick you full of throwing knives, anyway. Right? That might kill you?”
“I do heal quickly, but that might kill me, yes. Would it not kill you?” He kinda…slunk down a little, and a shiver rolled across my skin. He was preparing to fight. It made me feel like hovering for some reason, though it would have been pretty pointless to try. I couldn’t go very fast in the air. I didn’t even know why Lucifer had that sort of magic. What was it good for, besides negating a ladder?
“They wouldn’t reach me. Unless they did, and then…probably. I also heal quickly.”
“Then no throwing knives. But I assume—”
“Oh my God, just use whatever you want and I’ll make it work. I miss Cahal. He rarely spoke. And he certainly wasn’t polite when he did.”
“Fantastic.”
“That was a put-down, and still you sound so nice. I really hate that,” I grumbled.
He unslung something from his back, and I realized it was a bow, of all things.
“Wait…”
He held it out in front of him and reached back with the other hand, pulling out an arrow. He nocked an arrow, pulled back, and paused for a moment.
“Dude, what the fuck—since when do you people use—”
He released. The arrow flew right for my heart. I should have thrown up a shield of air, but in that split second, only one idea came to mind—sword!
I had an air sword in my hand immediately and swung, clanging against the wood arrow and knocking it away. Another came, and another. Romulus nocked an arrow, released. Nocked an arrow, released. So fast his arm became a blur. But he was only shooting center mass. He didn’t vary the shots.
He definitely didn’t have the type of battle knowledge I did. His skills were the kind you learned from practice, not from evading a mark intent on killing you. He’d gained some experience in the field, but clearly he hadn’t been pushed to the limits. Not like I had. Not like Roger.
Intending to give Darius as much time as I could, I swung my air blade, cutting down or deflecting the arrows, one after the other, almost bored with it. Out of arrows, he dropped the bow. His hands came together, and I knew what would happen next.
I released the air sword as a jet of hellfire spewed toward me, b
listering in heat, half the size of my wrist. It would get the job done with most creatures, including most demons. I covered my hair and clothes with ice, so they wouldn’t burn away, and let it wash over me. The heat felt like a comforting caress.
My turn.
“Stay put or this will kill you,” I yelled.
I sent jets of hellfire out of my palms, each bigger than his, although the heat was the same. They sped toward him, and I noticed his assistant start off across the grass, afraid for his boss.
“Halvor would’ve been too late.” I bent the fire at the last moment and wrapped it around him, cocooning him with air so the heat wouldn’t harm him. I rose a sheet of regular fire in front of Halvor. He came out the other side hairless but determined to get to his master. “Jesus. That guy is intense. I hope Callie brought enough hair stuff.”
The hellfire wore away, and Romulus just stood there for a moment, his face slack and his eyes wide, breathing heavily. The guy had thought I was going to kill him.
“You don’t trust me, huh?” I walked toward him, letting him get his bearings. “It makes me like you a little more. Though…” I finally punched him in the kisser.
Halvor was on us a moment later, his sword out, his decision-making a little off. I tossed him away with a burst of air. He really should’ve expected it.
“That was…enlightening,” Romulus said in a shaky voice, patting his lip and coming away with a spot of blood.
“Don’t try hellfire on Lucifer.”
“No. Shall we continue?”
“Always with the freaking politeness,” I said, exasperated, backing off a little. “I just scared the hell out of you on purpose.”
He pulled the sword from his back in one smooth, fast motion. His moves were good; mine were better. His people wouldn’t get to see that, though, because I’d put my weapons in the grass with the other stuff. I now regretted that.
He thrust with his sword, hit my air sword, pulled back. He spun and swung. Dodging the blow, I fast-stepped toward his body. I rammed my forearm across his jaw, then brought it back and slammed my elbow against his cheek. As I turned, I followed through with my other fist, clocking him a good one. Dancing back out, I prepared to air-club him, since the sword would leave a rather large hole I didn’t know if he could come back from.
