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Glass. Shattering. I drove him through the window, separating from him for long enough to gain footing on the stone walk outside, heavy scent of wet green air rising from the garden on the other side of the strip of stone flags. Boot soles gripping, sliding, cut overhand, he batted it away with more luck than strength. Harsh gasps of air tore at my throat. His shielding flared, trying to throw me off, I reacted without thinking, tearing Power from the air and smashing at him.
Rain spattering against my skin, stinging-hard. Rivulets of water down Jace's face. We were outside now, booted feet crunching in glass, the wild rain pounding on both of us, soaked to the bone and suddenly chill, breath steaming, sparks flying like water as we danced.
Flying. I didn't have to hold back. The rhythm of the fight changed, became insistent, no think! No think! Move! Jado-sensei screamed in my memory and I fell, landing on the wet stone scrambling, scrambling, throwing aside one of his strikes, on my feet again, whirling, his scabbard coming in, deflected, I was going to bruise there by tomorrow, didn't care, alive, alive, see you stay that way, alive, alive—
Thunder.
He fell, blood striping his face, landing sprawled on the marble. My blade kissed his throat. For a moment I was tempted—push the blade in, no resistance, you can watch him bleed, watch the soul leave the body, watch the sparks fly, and then—
"Do you give?" I asked, my voice a harsh croak. My ribs flared.
"Of course," he said, his eyes closed, head tipped back, throat exposed. Steel caressed the vulnerable place where his pulse beat. My hands weren't shaking, but they were close. "Anything you want, Valentine."
"Stay off my case, Monroe." I let the temptation slide away. Not today. I wouldn't kill him today.
Thank the gods, think of the paperwork… I sheathed my blade, suddenly aware that the rain drenched both of us, my shirt stuck to my body, my jeans chafing, boots sloshing in foaming water. I offered him my hand, still tuned to combat, watching his blade just in case.
"Sure." He took my hand; I hauled him up from the stone walk-turned-river. "You still look good when you fight, sweetheart."
I tore my fingers out of his, watched as he sheathed his sword. Both of us were bloody—scraped knuckles, a cut on his scalp, his knee, a shallow slice on my shield arm, my back on fire. "Good match," I said grudgingly. "You've been practicing."
"So have you. That double-eight thing kicked my ass."
"Where'd you learn that little shuffle-trick? That's nice." I pushed a strand of wet hair out of my face—no matter how tightly I braided it, sometimes little bits worked free.
"Around and about. You still do knife-work?" His hair streamed with water, dark and plastered against his forehead.
"When the occasion calls for it." I stepped through the shattered window. "Sorry about that."
"It's okay. It's just a window." I could hear the smile in his voice. "Goddamn, you're good."
"I train with Jado almost every day when I'm not on a job."
"That old dragon? Chango love you, girl, no wonder you're good." He stepped through, shaking the water off his hair and hands, stamping his feet. That'll foul the mats, I thought, and wondered if broken glass ground into tatami was a bad idea. Of course it is. But maybe he can afford it. "I couldn't even get time with him. Some say he only trains women."
"No, there's men too. But he says women are better. Quicker reaction time. More evil." I found myself smiling. Adrenaline laid its thin copper taste against my palate. Now I wanted a hot bath, and I wanted sex.
Too bad. Nobody here but unavailable men. And I don't want to trust the local escorts.
Jace's hand closed around my wrist. His skin was warm, almost too warm, his shields rubbing against mine. His thumb drifted over my skin, an intimate touch. "Da
I tore my hand away again. He tried to keep it. Again. "Da
"No, Jace. Forget it. That's all you're going to get from me."
He shrugged. "It's a shame. I remember how good it used to be after a sparring session." His eyebrow quirked a little. Even with blood ru
"Well, if you hadn't dumped me three years ago you might be a little luckier now," I said, and turned away.
Gabe and Eddie were watching us. Gabe's eyes were round. Eddie's were narrowed, and he looked about ten seconds away from a growl. He had his arm over Gabe's shoulders; she leaned into his body as if she belonged there.
Japhrimel stood bolt-upright, his hands behind him. His eyes were half-lidded and the smell of demon filled the entire practice room, warring with the tide of rain-washed air pouring in through the broken window. His coat smoked and fumed with darkness, a psychic stain spreading out from him.
I don't know if that's really a coat, I thought, and stopped short, staring at him. What else could it be? Wings? An exoskeleton?
Jace went utterly still beside me. "Is that it?" he asked. "You're dating a demon?"
"Don't be ridiculous," I snapped, and stalked away from him. "Your dick always gets the better of you, Jace, maybe you should try thinking with your brain next time. Thanks for the sparring, I needed it. Next time I'll spar with Japhrimel—he's a real challenge." I was so happy with myself I used more of Jaf's name, and sounded as if I was talking about someone else. The name fit smoothly against my tongue. Japhrimel. I wondered what it meant, and if I called him by his full name, what would happen?
"Fucking hell—" Jace began, his voice bitting a pitch I recognized.
He'd lost his temper.
"That's enough," Gabe snapped, even though Eddie pulled back on her shoulders. The emerald in her cheek flashed, sending a spear of green light through the heavy air. "Hades, haven't you two finished flirting? Get over it already so we can find the rucking demon and get rid of our Happy Little Pet here!"
"Japhrimel," I said, over the last half of her sentence, "come on. The rest of you, we're going recon in two hours when the rain stops and it gets darker. I'll expect you all to be ready."
"Oh, for fuck's—" Gabe began. Eddie shushed at her.
"Da
I stopped. Didn't turn around. Japhrimel hovered near my shoulder. I hadn't seen him blink across the intervening space, and that made me vaguely nervous.
"Thanks for the sparring," Jace said. "I love working with you."
"Sorry, Jace," I answered. "It's too late. I work alone."
Then I strode out of the practice room, my anger crackling on the air, hearing Jace's awful silence behind me. I'd won both battles.
Good for me.