“I’m good, thanks,” he fires back.
Stopping mid-step, I blurt, “Uh, shouldn’t they be wearing protective gear or something?”
Nolan looks behind us and rolls his eyes. “Yes, if they were sane, but Donovan is of the opinion that he won’t be in protective gear when he’s really fighting, so he shouldn’t get used to wearing it while training. Kaleb and I were at least able to talk him into mouth guards.”
“At the risk of stating the obvious,” I reply with a skeptical squint, “swords are sharp and usually lead to stabbing or cutting. Why risk it, unless nephilim also heal super fast?”
“They heal faster than humans, but not like you or Connor,” he replies casually, unknowingly answering one of my questions. “Their blades are intentionally dulled though. That’s why Kaleb’s longsword doesn’t come to a sharp point. Mostly, they earn fat bruises when they fuck up.”
Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes. “Well, if that’s all...” sarcasm saturating my voice as I trail off, and Felix snickers.
When we reach the open area near a wide selection of free weights, Nolan flashes me a grin and says, “So I’m supposed to be your personal trainer, I guess. Need me to walk you through what stretches you’re supposed to do?”
I snort. “I took gym, so I think I’m good, but I’ll let you know if I need help.”
“Just remember, dynamic stretching before workout, and static stretching after,” he adds with flourish.
“I’ll remember,” I sing back, then bend at the waist, bouncing my hands against the floor.
There are two audible throat clearings, before Felix comments, “You’re pretty flexible there. When I was alive, I could barely touch my knees.”
“Yeah, well this is pretty much all I have working for me,” I sigh, blood slowly making its way to my head. “I’m slim thanks to genetics, not actual athletic ability.”
“Uh-- yeah-- I’m sure all the training will probably help with that,” Nolan comments, his words trailing off like he’s distracted.
I stand up to start pulling my knees to my chest, quickly alternating between legs, when I notice Nolan and Felix’s gazes quickly shift to my face.Were they just...?
I can’t decide if I should feel awkward, flattered, or simply relieved that at least I’m not the only one ogling. It does bring to mind something I hadn’t considered. I’ve been trying to keep my wayward attractions in check, if for no other reason than because they’re my first real friends, and I don’t want to screw it up. But what if one of them develops more than friendly feelings for me? I’m still figuring out how to be a friend. I’ve no clue how to be a girlfriend.
I mentally groan.Presumptuous much? You’re a whole new brand of crazy they’re possibly regretting taking on. They literally saw you go catatonic from just seeing fire, and let’s not forget you’re a magical ticking time bomb. Be happy they aren’t running for the hills.
There’s a sharp clang of metal against metal loud enough to be heard over the music, startling me from my thoughts. I look over at Kaleb and Donovan, and my stomach freefalls. While they narrowly miss the other’s blade, their faces are fierce masks of deathly concentration, as if they’re in the middle of a battle for their lives.
My heart stutters as Kaleb goes hard at Donovan, his blade making a long swinging arc from his hip, while the dagger against his forearm blocks thekatana’sstrike on his other side.
There’s a quick chirp from Donovan’s shoes against the hardwood floor, as he turns and jumps back, barely missing the blow of the longsword. With Kaleb’s right side open, Donovan tries to slash across his belly, only to be parried and barely lifts his foot in time to keep from getting knocked down with a leg sweep.
My lungs burn from only taking little gasps of air. Every time a hit is deflected, I barely have a chance to exhale in relief, before they go for the next strike.
They both jump back and continue to circle each other, sweat clinging to their skin. The music shifts from the sweet violins to a heavier rock song that is a mix of the deep throaty sounds of cellos and the more expected sounds of drums, bass, and electric guitar. The vocalist has the harsh anger of the wounded, as he promises he isn’t Jesus and won’t forget what he’s suffered.
Donovan’s eyes narrow, and he rolls his shoulders with the music shift.
“Intense, huh?” Felix interjects, bringing me back to myself and the realization that I’ve been standing with one leg pulled to my chest for a couple of minutes now. My hip isn’t pleased.
“That’s putting it mildly,” I mumble. My eyes feel dry from lack of blinking.
“Just wait,” Nolan hints solemnly, as I finally switch to the other leg.
The refracted light of the sun against the swords immediately draws my eye back. Despite the flying blades, neither’s gaze leaves the face of the other, relying on their peripheral vision to warn them of the next attack.
With lightning speed, Kaleb stabs forward, looking to skewer Donovan, but misses when he once again spins away. The blade must be heavy, but Kaleb handles it with an effortless grace that is mesmerizing.
I cringe with fear when, with both hands, Donovan strikes downward, aiming where Kaleb’s neck meets his shoulder, but is swatted away once again by Kaleb’s dagger. Except this time, Kaleb does a quick spin of his wrist, hooking thekatanaand locking Donovan’s arms in an awkward angle, leaving him open for a hard kick to the gut. Donovan grunts against the blow, his mouth forming around a hushed curse, as he stumbles back.
Instead of a stuttering stop and start as they slash at each other, it’s a fluid dance of lethal motion. Each movement, whether offensive or defensive, quickly slides into the next, leaving neither time to catch their breath. Their whole bodies are engaged, their muscles rippling and flexing as they not only slice and stab at each other, but elbow, kick, pummel, and flit around their unmarked arena. Most of their attacks are dodged or countered swiftly, but others ruthlessly hit their marks.
I’m most of the way through my stretches, continuing to glance up with every clash of metal and grunt of pain, when I get to see what Nolan meant earlier.
