Chapter 21 #2
I had one week until the wedding. “I guess everyone has to start somewhere,” I said.
On the ground, Vander pushed himself upright, one thick forearm draped over his knee. He lowered his silver gaze to Lorcan’s fingers locked around mine.
Lorcan released me, but he didn’t move back. “Yes. I can teach you.”
A n hour later, muscles I never knew existed screamed for relief.
The Matasi looked like a dance, but it was a demanding discipline. Every “form,” as Lorcan called the rapid-fire blows, had to be delivered with exacting precision in a specific order and with just the right amount of pressure.
“Lower,” Lorcan said, guiding my hand to the middle of Vander’s back. “The nerve is here. Strike even a fraction of an inch higher or lower, and the form won’t work.”
Nodding, I stepped back and lifted my hands. Fire shot up my shoulders, and I winced before I could stop myself.
Lorcan’s gaze sharpened. “Are you all right?”
Vander looked over his shoulder. The second he saw my face, he swung all the way around. “That’s enough practice for one day.”
“No,” I said. “I’m close. I can feel it.
” And I needed at least one victory. My swordwork was pitiful.
The vor scapa left my throat raw and bruised.
But the Matasi relied on the manipulation of nerve and muscle.
I’d grown up helping my mother mix herbs and tend the sick and wounded.
I knew how bodies worked. Which ligaments joined bone to bone and how the tiniest pressure could restrict blood flow.
Vander shook his head. “You can’t—”
“Turn around, Vander,” Lorcan said, his eyes on me.
My heart swelled.
Vander hesitated but then sighed and did as Lorcan said. “Fine,” he grumbled, “but I’m getting hungry.”
Lorcan took my hand again. Slowly, he touched my fingertips to each section of the form. “It’s here, here, and here. Light, light, and hard. Do you need to feel it again?”
I nodded. Because I didn’t trust myself to speak. His touch seared my wrist, his skin hot against mine. He was a demanding teacher, but he was also gentle. And patient—at least, when he wanted to be.
“One more time,” he said, his head near mine as he guided my hand through the form. “Shoulder, bicep, and the fourth vertebra from the tailbone.” He tightened his grip and nudged my fingers down a fraction of an inch. “A little lower…there. Good girl.”
The tingling rushed into my veins, sparks flowing under my skin. I was starved for praise. That was all it was.
“I’ve got it,” I said, tugging from Lorcan’s grip. Warmth touched my face, and I bent my head and fiddled with the laces on my sleeves to conceal any telltale blush. But I peered at Lorcan at the edge of my vision.
For a second, he looked like he might speak. Then he stepped back and gestured toward Vander. “You’ve practiced enough. Do it properly this time.”
It was such a Lorcan thing to say, I had to fight a smile.
But I also wanted to prove myself, so I drew a deep breath. Shoulder . Bicep . Spine . I could do this. Another deep breath. Another exhale. Blanking my thoughts, I let the Everless go blurry around me as I focused on Vander, just like Lorcan showed me.
Shoulder . Bicep . Spine .
Surging forward, I let my body’s momentum swing me around. Vander’s back spun into sight, and I flung out my hand, my fingers curled and my gaze locked on my target.
Tap , tap , tap . I struck in three places, adjusting the force of my blow each time.
Vander yelped, then lurched forward. As I fell back, he spun with wide eyes.
“Did I hurt you?” I gasped, my heart racing.
“Yes.”
Triumph burst inside me. I rushed to Lorcan. “I did it!”
He grinned, his fangs showing as he caught my arms and gave a low, rich laugh. “Well done.”
We smiled at each other. Lorcan tucked a finger under my chin, his dark eyes warm in their frame of long, thick lashes. “Perhaps we’ll make a Drachvi of you yet.”
My breath caught, awareness returning in a rush. My skirts brushed his legs. His fingers warmed my chin. With a swift step back, I dislodged his hand.
Vander watched us, one arm tucked against his ribs.
“Oh,” I said. “Are you all right?”
“I’ll live.” He pulled his arm away from his body, then grunted and pressed it against his ribs again. “Just as soon as I can feel my fingers.”
My stomach released an angry growl. As I slapped my hand against it, Vander grinned.
“Yeah, well, you’re not the only one.” He squinted up at the sky. “We should get back.”
Five minutes later, the men had their swords and we gathered at the base of the statue.
“Will one of you teach me the vampire roar?” I asked.
Vander flexed his fingers, a look of relief spreading over his features. “Oh, that? It’s easy, but it comes with age. As young as you are, you’re better off trying to claim the vor scapa for ‘stun.’?” He paused. “Which I don’t possess.”
“ Olnava ,” Lorcan murmured.
“That one,” Vander said.
“And vampires call it voice ,” Lorcan added. “Not roar.”
I shrugged. “Roar makes more sense.”
Vander smiled at me as we moved past the statue. “I happen to—” He snapped his mouth shut, his expression abruptly alert. And cold. He stalked forward, growling, “ Rix .”
The Everless disappeared. Vander charged ahead, his boots kicking up leaves.
A man burst from behind a tree and raced away from us. After a few paces, he looked over his shoulder. “ Uci !”
Blue light sizzled through the air. Vander ducked it mid-stride, and it struck a tree behind me.
A witch. Another would-be assassin.
Lorcan’s growl rumbled the ground as he shot past me. The man spat another word I couldn’t catch, and more blue streaked past my head. Lorcan blurred.
A second later, he tackled the man to the ground. Lorcan pinned the witch to the forest floor, his thighs straddling the witch’s hips and hands locking around his throat.
“Who sent you?” he demanded.
The witch’s face turned red. His lips moved as he struggled for air.
Vander stood over them, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. “He can’t answer questions when you’re strangling him,” he told Lorcan.
Lorcan yanked the man upward by his throat and then slammed his head against the ground. “Who sent you?” He loosened his grip.
The witch coughed and then sucked in air. His hair was dirty blond, and it was hard to tell his age, but I sensed he was as young as he looked.
“Answer me!” Lorcan growled.
“I—” The witch dragged in another labored breath. “ Uc —”
Lorcan plunged his face to the witch’s neck.
“Fuck,” Vander muttered. Digging feygeld and a knife from his pocket, he walked a quick circle around Lorcan, dropping stones as he went. “Get over here, Corinthe.”
I hurried forward and stepped over the rocks just as Vander said, “ Zid .” Blue flared around us.
The witch cried out, clawing at Lorcan’s arms, but it wasn’t long before his struggling slowed. Lorcan’s throat worked as he quickly fed. The witch’s eyes fluttered shut, and his skin turned white and then blue.
“Enough,” Vander said, frowning at Lorcan’s back. Lorcan didn’t stop. The witch’s mouth gaped. A white film covered his eyes.
Cursing, Vander bent and grabbed a handful of Lorcan’s jacket. “Enough, Lorcan, he’s already gone.”
Lorcan jerked free, his growl rumbling the ground under my feet as he remained locked to the witch’s vein.
“Stop, damn you,” Vander said. He bent and wrenched Lorcan back by both shoulders. Flesh, blood, and bits of bone sprayed the leaves as he ripped Lorcan from the witch’s throat. The man’s ruined neck gaped wide, his spinal column exposed.
“Let go of me,” Lorcan ordered, his voice guttural as he fought Vander’s grip. His eyes were black. Blood smeared his chin.
Vander yanked him over the witch’s body. “Not a chance.”
Baring his fangs, Lorcan hissed. Then, quick as a snake, he struck at Vander’s neck.
“Watch out!” I yelled, but Vander dodged at the last second and Lorcan’s fangs closed on empty air. The ward’s light wavered as the men stumbled over the edge. Vander drove Lorcan back inside and then delivered a brutal blow to Lorcan’s ribs.
Lorcan grunted. But he came up spitting and furious. “ Vraka ,” he gritted.
Vander winced, a cry escaping him. His nostrils flared as he wrestled one of Lorcan’s arms behind his back. “That was a mistake,” he grated. Struggling to capture Lorcan’s other wrist, Vander shot me a wild look.
“Get close to me!”
I didn’t want to be anywhere near Lorcan. But Vander was barely holding on, and pain glazed his eyes. Whatever vor Lorcan used must have stung.
Gathering my skirts, I hopped over the witch’s body.
“Grab my arm,” Vander said. The second I obeyed, he muttered, “ Mesu .”
The Everless appeared. The dead witch remained at our feet.
“You brought him with us?” I asked, a combination of disgust and curiosity gripping me.
“He was inside my ward,” Vander said, wrestling Lorcan to the grass. “And we were still close enough to the doorway to enter.”
Ruvien had said something about a doorway, too. But the elf’s words fled my mind as Vander and Lorcan fell to the ground in a snarling heap.
They rolled across the grass, fists flying, their growls and the snap of Lorcan’s fangs filling the ruins. Finally, Vander pinned Lorcan underneath him.
“ Vraka ,” Lorcan spat, his eyes like oil.
Vander shuddered and nearly lost his grip. Lorcan bucked beneath him, his fangs grazing Vander’s cheek. Vander was losing control.
I rushed forward. “How can I help?”
“Hold him!” Vander barked.
“What?” I hadn’t thought through my offer. “How?”
“I don’t fucking know! Just get his hands!”
My heart pounding, I circled the men and collapsed on my knees above Lorcan’s head. He twisted, snapping at my thigh.
“Stop that!” I yelled, jerking out of reach. When he grabbed at me, I seized his flailing hand and dug my thumb into the tendons inside his wrist, the same as he’d done to me the day I drained the merman.
Lorcan hissed.