Chapter 18 Avery
AVERY
Once Ian was sure I had the situation under control, he slipped away to spar with Brody. Now I was alone with Elijah, except that Heath and Wyatt were standing fifteen feet away, pretending they were paying attention to each other and not us.
Color me shocked that Trent, like Cash, was an enormous asshole, but the Prime dick energy that Heath’s quad had brought to that situation had been a little much.
They were all a little much and had been every single day since school began. There was no escaping them in training, though, and I might’ve actually been pleased to work with Elijah if everyone hadn’t acted like it was a death sentence.
“Well, Dove,” Elijah began, his golden eyes drinking me in, “the bad news here is that I don’t use a sword. I do carry a dagger, but as you’ve undoubtedly guessed, I fight wraiths only in beast form, and only when I am truly needed.”
“Wanna try one of my blades?” I asked him. “The wakizashi isn’t as short as a dagger, but I bet you’ll manage.” I tossed him the sword in my left hand.
He caught it easily and spun it in his grip. “Sure,” he said, his sharp grin returning. “Why not?”
“What the fuck?” Wyatt griped, leaning on the long handle of his ax. “You threatened to chop my dick off for touching your sword, Wildcat. How come Elijah gets a pass?”
“You stole my sword,” I retorted. “I am allowing Elijah to borrow it.”
Elijah slashed my blade through the air a few times. He was full of shit—he looked pretty proficient to me. “It’s a well-made, nimble little blade,” he told Wyatt with a shit-eating grin. “Just like my dove.”
I rolled my eyes. “I can’t believe you’re even here,” I told him. “Don’t you just come kill a few Giants or spar with an Apex wraith when you need points and then fuck off again?”
His laugh was almost musical. “Usually, but then I wouldn’t get to spend as much time with you.”
My beast preened.
Quit that.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Why me, Elijah?”
“Why not you, Dove?”
“You know why.”
His smile dipped, but Cash started shouting orders into his microphone before Elijah could respond.
We were to spar with our partner, no holds barred, until someone tapped out.
These were not blunted practice weapons either.
They were the real deal, so if any of us were seriously injured, our trainers were probably counting on our ability to shift or the soft magical hands of Dr. Lee to heal us.
“Ready?” I asked, raising my blade.
“For you? Always.”
We lunged at each other. Our blades clashed, the force reverberating down my arm, the familiar thrill beginning its song in my body.
Elijah’s grin never wavered as we went back and forth.
He’d strike, I’d parry. I’d strike, he’d parry.
Faster and faster, we moved in a rhythmic dance I’d have sworn we’d rehearsed.
“You are exquisite, Dove,” he said brightly as I blocked a particularly sneaky attack.
“Thank you. You’re unfairly good at this for someone who claims not to ever train,” I said, trying not to sound sulky.
He was truly a worthy opponent—almost as technically skilled as Ian but with a whole hell of a lot more force behind his strikes. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had this much fun training with my blade.
The sounds of steel-on-steel had filled the arena, and then the roars and growls of beasts followed, as some students shifted to work blades against beasts.
Nearby, Wyatt had shifted and was doing his level best to maul Heath to death, while Heath was doing his level best to poke as many holes in that bear as possible with his saber.
Throughout, Cash and the other trainers wandered the floor, critiquing forms and barking instructions.
They were wise enough to leave our little corner alone even as heads turned our way constantly.
It seemed much of the class was on the edge of its seat, waiting for Elijah to lose it and bite me in half.
After fifteen minutes of an intense and dead-even heat, Elijah and I paused to drink water from the Guardian-branded sports bottles we’d all been issued.
We watched as Wyatt roared and swiped sharp claws at Heath, who dove out of the way before rolling to his feet and slicing at Wyatt’s hindquarters.
I suppressed a wince, and something like dread roiled inside me at the thought of either of them seriously injuring the other one.
I needed to get over that shit fast, as serious injury was one hundred percent guaranteed for all of us if we continued down our chosen paths. Also, why did I care if Heath or Wyatt was injured?
Wyatt especially needed his ass kicked today.
I’d never been more grateful to already be overheated and red-faced as when Elijah shucked his T-shirt and used it to wipe the sweat from his face before tossing it aside.
That smooth olive skin, the grooves of his abs, the carved muscles of his arms, the snake tattoo draped around his neck…
all of it there for me to peruse without guilt because I was supposed to be finding ways to stab that work of art with my sword.
“Careful, Dove,” he said, the low rasp of his voice making my small hairs stand on end. “The way you look at me—it makes me want to do things to you.”
At least my face couldn’t get any redder. “Sorry. I know we need to be mindful of your control.”
“The things I want to do to you have nothing to do with me losing control of my beast,” he replied, his sharp grin turning even more wicked.
Warmth pooled low in my belly, and my beast flicked her tail in interest.
“But, to your point, sparring with you hasn’t tested my control at all. You’re not trying very hard to actually injure me, and this whole exercise has been nothing but enjoyable so far. I’m dying to see how that body can move in… other ways.”
“Mmm” was all I managed, taking a rough swallow of my water.
I needed to steer him in a different direction before this unbearable sexual tension made me do something stupid.
“So, with all of your supposed, um, issues, why become a Guardian?” I asked him.
“I’m sure the rest of your quad would still be top recruits even without you. ”
Elijah twirled my sword lazily as he pondered my question. “A few reasons. My beast is a violent bastard who needs to kill, and setting him loose on wraiths is the best way to sate that bloodlust.”
I nodded. At least the constant threat of extermination of our kind was good for something. “Does it work the same with the simulations?”
“We’ll find out when we finally go out into the field, won’t we?” he replied, grinning. “The SWIM works well enough for now.”
“What’s another of the reasons?”
He tapped his chin, his yellow eyes assessing me like my interest in him was a curious thing. “Do you know, Dove, that killing a mythic is seen in some circles as a badge of honor?”
I frowned. “I’d never met one until you. Who would dare challenge a mythic? That’s near certain death.”
He shrugged. “Lesser Primes who want bragging rights. And you’re correct, it often is a death sentence, unless said challenge was unfair.
Cheating and all that. Someone managed to kill one of the Chinese dragons just last year, and the details are shady as hell.
But you can bet the challenger is the king of the castle now. ”
It dawned on me then. Elijah was here, at least partially, for the same reason I was.
“A mythic in the Guardians would be better protected from illegal challenges or any other sort of shady murder attempt because it would bring the wrath of the most deadly group of Primes down on that person. A much bigger risk.”
A slow smile spread across his face. “That’s exactly right.” He gave me a knowing look, like we were sharing a secret.
I swallowed another glug of water. Abort.
“And there are also certain types not without power in our society who think mythics are too dangerous to be allowed to live,” he said matter-of-factly. “Best to make myself useful, wouldn’t you say?”
I nodded, looking away so he wouldn’t know how close to home that also hit. “Then there is the added bonus of, you know, saving our people from having their souls eaten, right?” I asked.
“Indeed.” He was quiet for a moment, seeming lost in thought. “I do feel a sense of duty to protect others from wraith attacks. That was how my fathers died. Did you know that?”
Profound sadness swept over me. “I didn’t know. How old were you?”
“Two, so I don’t remember it. They lived on a ranch, a ways outside our warded communities, but they rarely saw wraiths and rested on the assumption they were skilled enough to protect themselves as a quad of powerful Primes. But you know how total lunar eclipses go.”
I did. They happened every few years, but some were worse than others, depending on how long the totality lasted.
Sometimes it was less than ten minutes, but it was the ones that lasted nearly two hours that were the most deadly.
Wraiths could escape their realm in overwhelming numbers, and it was during these times that the rare Apex could make an appearance.
That was something the legend of the First Guardians got right, anyway.
We hadn’t had an eclipse like that in this area of the country since I began patrolling, but there was one coming up this fall. The totality was predicted to last an hour and fifty-three minutes.
“I’m sorry, Elijah,” I said softly. “Did any of your parents survive?”
He gave me a sad smile. “My mom managed to escape with me as her bondmates were overwhelmed by several Giants and an Apex wraith. She saved my life, and then she was murdered six months later.”
Horror punched me. “What?” I croaked.
“An allegedly random stabbing by a mugger when she was walking down the street. Isn’t that terrible?”
“Elijah, I….” I hardly had words. “And a healer couldn’t save her?”
A latent female wouldn’t have been able to shift to accelerate the healing process, but that was why we had magical doctors.
“Her body didn’t take the magic,” Elijah said. “And it was too late for non-magical means.”
Her body didn’t take the magic. A wave of nausea rolled over me.
“Dove?”
My heart pounded in my throat, and my beast curled in on herself. I shut my eyes and sucked in a deep breath.
A warm, rough hand wrapped around mine. “What’s wrong?” Elijah rasped.
“I just need a second.”
“I can taste your fear,” he whispered. His voice trembled. “We can taste it.”
“Avery?” That was Heath. “What the—oh shit. Elijah, step away from her.”
“No,” Elijah hissed. Actually hissed, then he dropped my hand like I’d burned him.
I opened my eyes. Heath had wedged himself between Elijah and me, his big hands pressed against Elijah’s bare chest. Elijah’s pupils had slitted, the basilisk rising to the surface, his golden eyes laser-focused on me.
My heart now pounded for a different reason. I scooped my second blade from the floor where Elijah had dropped it, and I took a few wary steps backward, swords raised. My beast growled, her fur standing on end and her claws out.
“Avery, go,” Heath demanded between clenched teeth. “If he loses it, we’ll have to clear the entire arena as a precaution.”
I looked at the pair of them, feeling utterly helpless. “I don’t know what happened. Elijah, everything is fine. I’m fine. Come back and we’ll spar some more?”
Elijah closed his eyes, nostrils flaring as he shook his head. Dark green-gray scales ghosted across his chest and down his arms before winking out.
“Get the fuck away from us right now, Avery,” Heath barked.
An enormous rust-red bear butted into me. A furry head the size of a tire shoved me toward the arena’s exit.
I swatted Wyatt’s nose, and he growled at me. “Stop that,” I told him. “I’m going.”
Trent stomped toward us. “What the fuck, Baxter? We still have ten minutes of weapons drills. Get your ass back over to your partner or you’re out.”
Wyatt bared his teeth in a savage growl.
“Trent,” Heath snapped from behind me. “This is what happens when you play games with a mythic. Tell Cash to clear the arena and conjure up an L4. Elijah needs to let his beast out to run off some steam, and it is your fucking fault.”
“What?” Trent barked.
Elijah hissed.
“Oh, fuck.”
With a flash and the crunch of muscle and bone rearranging itself, Wyatt returned to human form.
He stood gloriously naked next to me, his green gaze livid and pinned on our asshole trainer.
He wrapped a large, firm hand around the back of my neck, keeping me pointed in the correct direction while he had it out with Trent.
“You happy now, you absolute fucking jackass? You and Cash not only endangered Avery but also the entire moondamned program. Clear. It. Out.”
“Fuck, fine. Cash!” he bellowed as he strode away.
“Let’s go,” Wyatt said, his voice completely devoid of its usual mirth. He steered me toward the other side of the arena, headed for Ian and Brody.
My brother and his maybe-boyfriend stood there, sweating and panting from exertion while they watched Wyatt frog-march me across the floor. Ian frowned, and Brody’s dark eyebrows bounced straight to his hairline.
“Wyatt, I don’t know what happened,” I said softly. “Everything was fine, and he said something that upset me for just, like, a minute, and—”
“Elijah’s beast is volatile, Wildcat. Don’t beat yourself up.”
“All right, we’re wrapping up early today!” Cash announced on the microphone. “Everyone get the fuck out of here unless you want to be basilisk food.”
Our fellow trainees dropped their weapons where they stood, grabbed their bags, and began a semi-organized retreat toward the door.
Wyatt deposited me with Ian. “Take her out of here right the fuck now.”
“Ok-aay,” Ian said slowly, sheathing his katana. He glanced over my shoulder, and his blue eyes narrowed. “What’s all the fuss? Elijah seems fine.”
I whirled and caught a glimpse of Elijah standing quietly in the center of the arena, still shirtless. In profile, he seemed pensive, pointedly not looking my way. Heath hovered at the edge of the arena, arms crossed over his broad chest, radiating impatience.
Wyatt slid in front of me, his chiseled nude body blocking my view. “Don’t make me throw you over my shoulder again, baby. I will carry you out of here if I have to.”
“Only if you want to get stabbed,” I replied tersely. “I said I was going. Come on, Ian.”
Wyatt didn’t move a muscle, watching as I left with Ian and Brody. As we approached the door, the overhead lights cut out and the arena floor lit up with the magical fog of the SWIM.
The last thing I heard as the doors slammed behind us was the guttural bellow of a monster.