Page 36 of Empire of Dark

Her head shook. “I needed to train—I needed to do something physical or I am about to go mad as a hatter. There was always someone available to spar with at the Academy—those young ones come to us with so much angst, as I’m sure you can imagine.”

I scoffed a chuckle. “It is one of the things our kinds do have in common—we both excel at screwing up our young early in life.”

“That we do.” A wry smile cracked her face and she exhaled a sigh. “I didn’t realize my body would get this irate with me without the training.”

“Then I have a suggestion for that.”

Her palm lifted to me, a scold ready on her full lips. “Don’t even start.”

I had to smirk at how her mind worked, for I hadn’t even considered it. Sex wasn’t exercise. It was worship and an exorcism of demons and unbridled liberation that could set one on a different plane of existence. Not exercise.

“No, not what you’re thinking, you filthy-minded minx,” I said. “If you need to train, you train with me. I’m not going to allow the slightest chance of one of my men slicing into you and having Triaten’s wrath come down onto this household. The current peace we have is too tenuous as it is.”

Her hand dropped to her side as her right eyebrow lifted. “You’ll train with me?”

“Yes. If it will prevent taking out more of my men—by my hand or yours—then yes.”

She pushed herself off from the wall, her feet now steady under her, and she turned fully to me. “With no trying to turn it into an oops-did-my-body-land-upon-yours-to-press-it-into-the-ground scheme?”

A full smile breached my lips. “Only if you can’t take my blows.”

The right side of her face cocked in a challenging grin. “Oh, I can take your blows. Believe me. I can.”

“Can you? If Jacob almost bested you, I fear at how I will crush you.”

A snorting laugh flew out of her mouth. “Really? Care to test that?” She bent over and pulled free the long dagger she had strapped to her calf, then tossed it to me. “Then you get the little blade.”

I caught it and held it up, studying it. The length of my forearm, the augentrum steel had gold inlaid along the cross guard in the design of a dragonfly with its delicate wings unfurled. The gold so thin and intricate along some lines I flicked my thumbnail at it just to see if it would dislodge. It didn’t—solid as stone. Whoever had created it had been a master, probably not from this century or the last. A piece of art. And sturdy enough to block her sword.

I stepped away from the castle out into the clearing, motioning with my head to her. “First strike is yours.”

“You do recall that I bested you at the Grog & Ale?” Her stare setting on me, she slid her sword out of her scabbard.

I lifted my right arm, extending it out toward her, then set my feet, pulling back my left elbow and pointing the tip of the dagger at her just above my right arm. “If I recall, I saved your butt at the tavern, then you walloped me with the stein. Didn’t exactly see that coming.”

“Some telepath.” She jabbed forward with light feet, fast, and struck, the edge of her sword catching my arm and nicking my skin as I deflected the swing away from me.

I glanced down at the slight line of blood marring my right forearm. At least I’d saved my shirt.

I rushed her, digging my dagger onto the thick of her blade before she could parlay her swing into a blow against my body. “It’s more of a hobby.”

She sped to her right, yanking her sword out of my clutches. “You should take up knitting. You might be more successful at it.”

I followed her, a step slower for she was fast and I didn’t even think she was trying. I jabbed swipes at her, back and forth, not letting her blade catch a hold of mine.

The last swipe was close enough it would have caught her chin if she hadn’t tilted her head up at the last second.

She smirked and spiraled around to my backside, the swoosh of her sword flying through the air loud in my ear. My dagger over my shoulder, I blocked her blade before it could sink into my neck.

Not that she would go there.

I hoped.

I twisted around, shoving her off of me and she landed with her left hand down, her feet skidding in the slick grass. Crouched, she stilled as she eyed me, much like a panther, silently measuring all of my movements and my weaknesses and waiting for the perfect moment to attack.

I took a step back out of striking distance—her sword was longer than my dagger and I wasn’t stupid when I was up against someone with considerable skill.

And she had it in spades—considerable skill.