DEV HALF-HEARTEDLY CLUBBED THE PADDED DUMMY with a wooden practice sword. I brought this on myself. He always beat the snot out of the blue one on the end, but his blows lacked their usual fire and energy. Its sewed-on buttons and crooked-stitched smile mocked him.
Dejected, he tossed the sword at the dummy’s dangling feet and lumbered across the sparring circle. Past elliptical machines, treadmills and stationary bikes, he roamed to the racks of free-weights, plunked down on a bench and waited for his spirit to motivate him.
Grounded. Dev lay back, let his arms dangle free, and stared toward the ceiling. Like a bratty child.
“The mighty one has fallen, no?” Dronor’s Spanish accent reminded him of Antonio Banderas minus the long hair and bad-ass cool in Desperado.
Dev groaned.
“See how he wallows in defeat, punished like a little boy.” Donor tsked as he made his way closer.
Don’t push me. Dev’s anger ignited and he sat up.
The Knight of Water wended his way through the equipment, ran his hand along the rails of the treadmills, taking his time.
From under a lowered brow, Dev tracked the Water Knight’s unconcerned movements, sizing up the situation. Loose navy-blue slacks, tight white polo, rubber soled shoes, George Hamilton tan, rapier strapped to his hip….
He’s come to pick a fight. An accomplished fencer, Dronor relied on precise, lightning-quick strikes. For him, it was an art, not a martial skill. He spent long hours lunging and feinting and prancing in front of a mirror, admiring the majesty of his own form. But when challenged, he had business elsewhere.
“I’m not in the mood,” Dev said.
“Oh, I am sure you are not ready for visitors.” Dronor straddled a bench opposite Dev, and mirrored his posture. “The righteous have won the day.”
Dronor’s rolling ‘R’s set Dev’s teeth on edge. He clenched his fists in his lap and let the flames build up strength in his gut. Rage. His friend for so many years had his back.
“If you’re here to fight, shut up and get on with it.”
A cocky smile spread within the boundaries of a carefully groomed van dyke. Arrogance sparkled in his hazel-colored eyes. With fluid grace, the Knight of Water gained his feet, drew his sword and leveled it in front of Dev’s nose.
“As you wish, gusano.” Dronor spat out the last word.
Dev got to his feet, the steady tip of Dronor’s rapier followed his movement. “If you’re going to insult me, at least use a word I can understand.” Empty hands raised in front of him, Dev emphasized his unarmed status.
Dronor lowered his sword and nodded toward the middle of the room where a twenty foot circle had been marked off on the floor. The Knight of Water strode into the center, rested his thin blade on his shoulder and waited.
Dev limped to the rack and eyed the vast array of weapons on display. Aside from his left leg, which still gave him some trouble, the rest of his body had pretty much healed. Days on his back left him feeling stiff and uncoordinated, so this fight should prove interesting.
The long knives piqued his interest, but the morningstar looked appealing. He imagined that big spiked ball smacking into the side of Dronor’s smug face. The power of the fire burning under his skin flickered and danced at the image.
Nah. Don’t want to kill the arrogant fool. The knives called to him. Maybe just carve my initials in his uptight ass.
Dronor tapped his foot and cleared his throat.
You can wait. Dev took his time, pretending to agonize over the decision he had already made, but eventually grabbed a pair of simple, straight-bladed daggers. Compared to Cinder, they were sad and clunky, a pair of beat up Pintos to a Ferrari, but they’d do the job. The choice gave Dronor a definite reach advantage, but Dev balanced that out with aggression and ability.
He twirled the knives and played up his limp as he moved into the arena.
Dronor adopted a classic fencing stance, complete with left arm bent and at his hip. “En garde.”
“Bring it, Drippy.”
Lip curled at the insult, Dronor lunged. Dev blocked the blow, but it came in quicker than he expected, quicker than he thought the old Knight could move.
Another lunge, down and to the side. Dev barely knocked it aside.
Damn, he’s quick. Dev crouched, weight balanced on the balls of his feet. He needed to take this fight more seriously.
Dronor noticed the attitude change and charged in with a furious combination.
Sweep high. Block. Slash low. Dodge. Dev forgot about his left leg and, as he twisted to avoid the latest strike, it gave out and he dropped to his knees.
Dronor capitalized with a stab to Dev’s left ass cheek. It was a superficial wound, but stung all the same.
Son of a bi— The rage broke free of Dev’s control. Fire roared to life and engulfed his hands. They became a blur in front of him as he rose and recklessly charged the Knight of Water.
Slash. Jab. Slash right. Slash left. Thrust.
Wild swings left Dev panting while Dronor danced out of the way unharmed. The older Knight seemed amused by Dev’s fiery outburst and rage-inspired tactics.
“You are pathetic and should have been locked up long ago.”
Fire screamed through his body. Dropping the knives, he threw himself at the Knight of Water, grasping for his throat. When his blazing hands came in contact with Dronor’s skin, a torrent of steam rose into the air.
“You forget, stupid Knight of Flame, I am your foil.” Dronor smacked Dev across the top of his skull with a bare palm that sent a gush of water down the Knight of Flame’s face. It sizzled and separated into droplets that boiled down his cheeks. “Your fire means nothing to me.”
The water cooled Dev’s fury, left him wet and fuming. Dronor pushed him off and followed with a slap of his blade to Dev’s chest.
“Pathetic.” Dronor sheathed his rapier and strode toward the door. “You will be stuck here forever, Quinteele.”
Pathetic. Dev sat down hard on the wet floor, landed on his new wound and quickly adjusted position.
Ass kicked twice in the same week. I know better. Why did I let that Spanish fossil get to me?
A glimmer of the rage he felt before stirred, but he immediately tamped it down.
If I can’t control the fire and rage, I am going to be stuck here forever.