Chapter 19

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Lyric

“Ah, the lady returns,” Phalen announced jovially as I approached the training area.

I watched him carefully, waiting for some sort of recognition he knew exactly what I’d been doing with his boss. Phalen was either oblivious or really good at tempering his reaction.

Awesome. If he wasn’t going to call me out, I wasn’t going to react.

“Where do you want me?” I asked, glancing around the area and scratching at my back. The skin around my shoulder blades had been a little irritated since yesterday’s fieldtrip to the basement.

The larger group had splintered apart, forming big circles around pairs who were sparring. Some had legit weapons, some had training weapons, and some were working with their bare hands.

“Let’s start without a weapon,” he suggested.

“Sure thing.”

“Would you like me to pick your first partner?”

“Not Lyson,” I immediately replied.

“No, of course not,” he chuckled. “Poor lad.”

As I was searching faces for someone who looked like they needed an ass-kicking, a thought sprung to mind.

“Who is Lyson’s bunkmate?”

“Jessop.”

“Is he here?”

Phalen pursed his lips. “He is.”

“That’s who I want.”

“Okay, then—”

“Wait, how old is he?”

“Nearly fifty.”

None of the males looked that old, of course. Some of them likely had centuries on me. They were demons, which meant they were virtually immortal.

“Then I want Jessop first.”

Phalen grinned. “First? How many do you plan to go through?”

“As many as it takes.”

This time he laughed loudly. “You’re going to fit right in here. Honestly, I hadn’t expected you to be anything like this.”

“Really? That’s the opposite of what your overlord told me.”

“Yes, well, he’s been rather obsessed with learning as much as he could about you for quite some time. I’m not surprised you match his much-anticipated suppositions.”

I’d never need to wear rouge in the Shadowlands. Apparently, I would always have bright red cheeks.

“What, uh, what were you expecting me to be?”

“A hardened bitch.”

“Wow. That’s a tad harsh.” Then again, “It’s also, probably accurate. I did just ask to fight a specific Shadow because he needs to get his ass stomped. I’d have to agree I’m a little hardened, Phalen.”

“Yes, but your reason for doing it is honorable.”

“No, it’s not.”

“If you say so. Come on, I’m impatient to see how you fare.”

The way Phalen said it gave me a moment of self-doubt. I had to give myself a little pep talk as we walked to the first circle.

Fortis demons are the strongest demons. I kicked every male’s ass in my clan, minus Gregor’s and my father’s. Hence, I should be able to kick a Shadow’s ass.

There. Logic was proving useful. Bonus? I was stronger in the Otherland. Not bonus? So were all the other demons. Yeah, I really hadn’t thought this through very well. Shiiit.

“Jessop! To me, now!” Phalen called, marching into the center of a group of Shadows with me in tow.

“Lyric, give me your weapons.”

“Really, Phalen?”

“Best to leave temptation out of reach, my dear.”

“Fine,” I huffed. “Be careful with those,” I warned, efficiently disarming myself with the katanas first. Then the throwing stars on my belt, then the daggers on each side.

“All of your weapons, Lyric.”

I rolled my eyes. I never fully unarmed myself. Life had taught me to never trust my safety to another. Arguing would likely get Draven involved and I had no desire to put on a show of defiance for these males, especially the fool making his way into the makeshift ring.

Jessop wasn’t quite as tall as Lyson, but he definitely had a sturdier frame, the kind that came with age and experience. He had a baby face edged by curly white-silver locks and stormy grey eyes. For lack of a better word, he was cute.

I didn’t look away from Jessop as I bent and retrieved the small blades from each of my boots. Once I was totally disarmed, I squared shoulders with my opponent.

Jessop’s eyes flitted to Phalen.

“You want me to spar with her?”

“Yes. Jessop, this is Lyric. Lyric, Jessop.”

My opponent’s head swung around, searching. I followed his line of sight when he landed on something. Or someone, rather. The Shadow Lord.

Jessop grimaced.

I smiled sweetly. “Are you afraid you’ll hurt me or are you afraid of what Draven will do if you hurt me? I assure you, neither will be an issue.”

The oaf ignored me and looked to Phalen for an answer.

“Lyric’s right. It will be fine. Same rules as always.”

Jessop hesitated, then nodded.

Phalen backed away. Jessop and I circled each other slowly. He looked uncomfortable. I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

“Surely you’ve sparred with females before,” I said, assessing his direction and pattern of footwork.

“You’re tiny compared to female Shadows. I’m not into harming those weaker than me.”

“Huh. A real gentleman, then. Tell you what, let’s make a gentleman’s wager.” I kept my voice low, not wanting to attract too much attention.

“You’re not a man.”

“Humor me,” I said.

“Alright.”

“If I draw first blood, you give Lyson his money back.”

Jessop snorted. “I don’t think so.”

“Why not? Scared you’ll lose?”

“No. We don’t usually draw blood when sparring without weapons.”

“Is that a joke?” Who didn’t get a little bloody in a fight?

“No. This is about control. We’re taught to remain in control at all times, even when under attack.”

So was I, but someone always bled. It was how we learned to handle pain and the sight of our own blood.

“Okay, how about whomever lands the first blow wins,” I offered as an alternative.

“Sounds fair. What do I get if I win?”

“What do you want?”

Jessop stopped circling and looked me up and down slowly. He licked his lips and I nearly kicked him in the balls for it.

“No wagers,” Draven’s deep voice decreed ominously from the back of the crowd, making Jessop flinch.

Whatever thought the male had, the Shadow Lord did not like it. I would not read into it. I would not even think of it. Focus on the orphan and his little fish, pretend it had a little fin just like Nemo.

“Guess he doesn’t want us to make a bet, little girl,” Jessop acerbically lamented, right before he lunged.

Geez he was fast. Not as fast as Gregor, but fast. I could be fast, too. I rotated so quickly he caught air where I’d been standing. I couldn’t move at that speed all the time, but I had enough power to do it once or twice more.

When his neck swung to find where I’d gone, I jumped up into the air and punched down, putting all my weight into the blow. I nailed him right in the nose. A sickening crunch announced I’d hit pay dirt and down he went.

Jessop wailed, holding his hands to his face. Blood was pouring from between his fingers. The big baby was acting like he’d never had his nose smashed. What kind of army was this?

“Ooo bwoke mah ucking dose!” his muffled words escaped from under his hands.

“I did, and I’ll do again. I’ll come back and do it every day until you give Lyson that money back. He’s a kid and you took advantage of him.”

I brushed off my hands and found Phalen scowling at Jessop. When he looked over at me and shook his head, he palmed his face.

“Jessop, go see Hugo,” Phalen ordered. “You might also want to try to be a better bunkmate. I think she’s serious.”

A few of the males snickered, but it wasn’t as embarrassing as it could have been. I knew I wasn’t making any friends in the ranks. I should probably work on my social skills, or maybe start following some of their rules.

“I think you might need a more advanced partner,” Phalen surmised.

“Ya think?” Yep, I needed some better social skills. Maybe an etiquette class or something like How Not to Be a Dick 101.

“Casimir?” Phalen called over his shoulder.

Draven’s cousin sauntered into the circle, dressed in the same getup as the soldiers. He looked at the drops of blood on the ground and then checked my face.

“Not mine,” I confirmed.

Casimir nodded, chewing on the side of his mouth. “Phalen, perhaps we could use the bokken? I think drawing blood in under eight seconds has proven she’s adjusting.”

I must have given away my excitement over the wooden swords because Casimir chuckled. “Yes, I think we’ve found something the lady likes.”

Draven’s magic brushed my side, warming my skin. Still nonsexual, but something about it felt like a warning. Possessive, even. Instead of that honeyed, gooey feeling, it singed slightly. I dropped my shield and flashed messages of retaliation, but he didn’t let up.

Two bokken came flying through the air from out of nowhere. Casimir and I each caught one. Thankfully, they’d come from the direction I was facing. Shadows didn’t draw blood when sparring but they threw objects without warning, because, yeah, that made sense.

“Ready, little Fortis?” Casimir teased lightly.

“I was born ready,” I retorted darkly.

His small smile died. He was about to learn that I didn’t mess around when a sword was in my hand, even if it looked like a child’s toy.

We engaged in the dance I loved so much, the en guard movements between opponents. I let him lead, studying his stance, his grip, where his eyes roamed.

When they lingered on my bust a breath too long, I moved my bokken between us, pointed slightly down, taunting him to strike. Holding it like this kept my arms pressed to the sides of my breasts, pushing them together.

As anticipated, he took the bait.

Were males really so predictable? I usually waited for my partner to strike first. Unbeknownst to Casimir, he’d already telegraphed his distraction.

I flicked my wrist up and he shifted to block. Before the wooden blades made contact, I flicked downward, grazing the front of his trousers. Casimir yelped and I laughed.

“This is how you were taught to fight?” he asked incredulously.

“I was taught to use every advantage I have. You’re lucky my sword only gave you a kiss.”

“A kiss?! Abrading a male’s genitalia is … it’s …”

“Unfair? Dishonorable? Dirty, even?”

“Yes!”

“Agreed. Though, I’ll point out you abraded me first, Casimir. With your gaze. You strike across my tits again with your wondering eye, and I’ll glance your manhood.”

Phalen laughed while others made faces of phantom pain. I saw Lyson in my periphery covering his junk. Smart boy.

“Enough with the talking. Test her, Casimir,” Draven commanded.

He’d barely gotten out his cousin’s name when the bokken in Casimir’s hand came at my side. I twisted and blocked, my hands stinging from the force of the blow. Cas-i-o wasn’t playing around anymore.

We attacked and parried for several minutes, neither of us landing any successful hits. Casimir was an excellent swordsman. He held his composure and moved fluidly. Truth be told, he was faster than I was.

Luckily, I knew ways around that. With both hands, I swung up and to the left, knocking his sword back far enough to give me an extra second. I dropped to the ground and swung one foot.

Casimir hadn’t expected it. Either that, or I was stronger than I realized because he didn’t recover as fast from my strike as I’d anticipated. Instead of jumping in time to avoid my sweeping leg, he took the impact just as his feet started to leave the ground.

He landed on his back and I leapt up, holding the tip of the bokken to his throat. The Fortis demons I’d bested always hated me in these moments. I searched for the same defiant resentment in Casimir’s eyes that I’d seen in so many others.

Several reactions took turns landing on his face. First, utter surprise, then a grimace of pain, followed by the twitch of his lips.

Not sensing any retaliation, I withdrew my fake weapon and held out my hand. Casimir took it and lifted to his feet.

“I’m thinking she doesn’t need to be tested with a legit weapon,” he told Phalen. “She obviously isn’t having any adverse balance issues or overabundance of magic messing with her.”

“No, she seems to be fine,” the commander agreed. “But the adjustment can take weeks to manifest fully.”

“So, we’re done?” I asked with disappointment. I hadn’t even broken a sweat.

“Not quite. Draven?”

The demon in question raised an eyebrow.

“You still want her to be ghosted?”

“Yes.”

“Uh, what?” I squeaked. I wasn’t a Shadow, I couldn’t ghost.

“Maybe Talia should do it,” Phalen suggested.

“No, I’ll do it. Clear the area.”

The two of them kept talking like I wasn’t even there.

“Wait. Timeout. You’ll do what exactly?”

My head swung between the two males. I glanced at Casimir and the shithead winked. I looked for Talia only to see her retreating backside heading towards the fortress.

Phalen ignored me and ordered the males to break for a meal. The space cleared out in thirty seconds flat.

“Give Lyric her weapons,” Draven ordered Phalen.

“You sure about that?”

“She’ll feel better if she has them.”

“She can hear you. She is standing right here. Maybe one of you can tell her what the fuck is going on.”

Draven ignored me. Again. “I’ve got this, Phalen. Go fill your belly. We’ll return once things are under control.”

“Thank the gods. I’m starved. Best of luck, Lyric.” Phalen bowed and trotted off the way Talia had gone.

I was all alone with Draven.

“It’s time, Angel.”

“For what?”

“To go for a ride.”