She shakes my face and with a voice hard with conviction, she repeats, “Do you hear me?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I answer more clearly. “I hear you.”
Seemingly more satisfied with my answer, she pats my cheek, then picks up the weapons from the ground. Handing me the short sword, she declares, “You’re nearly eighteen, and it’s only through the grace of a technicality that you need a diploma to function in this world that we have a little over a year before you must leave. It’s my job to prepare you for what lies outside Twin Cedar Pass. I will not allow another close call like last night, you understand? So today, instead of whooping your ass, we’re going to work on close combat with weapons while your wings are out. We’ve shied away from it because of the neighbors, but that stops today.”
Examining the dulled sword in my hand, which is roughly the same length as mykatana, I complain, “How is this any different than just taking an ass whooping?”
She smiles. “You get a chance to defend yourself.”
The last thing I want to do is spar today. I’m sore from sleeping on the floor, my shoulder still kind of aches, and I’m still tired. I’m pretty sure I could pass out on any flat space right now, but I guess it could be worse.
Walking toward the house, I concede, “Fine. I’ll go get changed.”
“Oh, no you don’t. Boy, get your butt back over here,” she commands, an evil smile tugging at her full lips. “You insist on wearing those ridiculous pants, then you’re going to learn to fight in them.”
“It was for Halloween,” I defend, the words sounding uncomfortably whiny.
She snorts. “Too bad. Into the ring.”
Swallowing another groan that would probably get me in trouble, I walk over to the middle of the ring and summon my wings. Stretching them wide and flexing the muscles in my back, I notice my wing definitely feels heavier on the recovering shoulder, but there’s no real pain. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see the metallic gleam of sunlight reflecting off of the black feathers. I feel a little like I’m some costumed idiot from an emo band and vow to burn these stupid leather pants.
Keziah rolls her head, stretching the muscles in her neck and shoulders, before summoning her own wings. They practically glow within the shining light of the sun, the white feathers shimmering with a pearlescent gold. She enters the ring, and with a quick twist, separates the long staff into two short pieces that she then twirls around her hands.
“Normally, I wouldn’t recommend wings out in close quarters. They greatly affect your center of gravity and can make you top heavy. However, sometimes the choice is taken from you,” she explains as we start to circle each other. Her wings are slightly spread, illustrating the posture needed to correct the imbalance with the additional weight.
I mimic the posture and twirl the dulled blade around my sides, before holding it in a defensive position. My eyes catalog every movement of her body. The cross of her feet. Where she holds her weight. Her breathing. Where her eyes go. Anything that will telegraph her opening move. Unfortunately for me, she has a poker face that dear old granddad Lucifer would be proud of, and I barely get my sword up in time to block her attack by my head, only to get smacked in the ribs from her other hand’s short staff.
“With your wings out, it’s harder to make quick gestures with the trunk of your body to dodge attacks. Instead of fighting against them, use them,” she instructs. “Jump back with your wings tight, then open them up to keep you upright.”
Keziah is light on her feet, and has grace and movement that would make ballet dancers weep, her greatest strength always being they can’t hurt what they can’t hit. She illustrates her instructions by leaping back when I thrust forward with my sword, her wings catching her before her trajectory would leave her on her back. Despite how considerable my reach is, she still has a good two feet on my blade.
I growl with irritation and pull back into a defensive posture, not wanting to leave my ribs vulnerable to another surprise attack.
Another smirk pulls at her mouth, then she leaps into the air, flapping her wings a few times until she hovers about ten feet above my head.
“What are you going to do from up there?” I yell, my sword readied for whatever she has planned. “I know where you’re coming from. I can easily counter your attack.”
“Oh yeah?” she responds with a laugh, which causes a chill to run down my spine.
Before I can figure out what the hell she’s doing, she dive-bombs me.
I put up my sword to deflect, readying my body to knock the two short staves from her hands, but she spins before dropping behind me, then whacks my ankles, causing me to stumble forward.
“Sh...” I cry out, swallowing the rest of the curse.
As quickly as possible, I spin to face her and back up, not looking forward to getting whacked again.Damn, she’s fast.
“Child, if you’re not careful, cockiness will get you killed,” she warns as she straightens, shifting her wings back. Once again, she flips those damn sticks around her hands. “As nephilim, we have the advantage of the Z-axis. Use it. We’re not human and we fight to win, not to play fair.”
I nod that I hear her, then use my wrist to push my hair out of my eyes. Sweat builds along my skin and drips down my chest, feeling too much like blood. With a hard shake of my head, I will myself to focus.
Keziah’s brows furrow, her gaze likely noting the shake in my hands, and I use the distraction to my advantage. With gritted teeth, I pitch forward, falling low so I can hook the back of her legs with a sweep of my sword.
She grunts when she falls back on her wings, but when I poise myself for what would be a killing blow, all I can see is Letti beneath me. Her blue eyes identical to Nolan’s. Scratching and fighting me to live. I drop the sword and scramble back, staring at my clawed hands that I can’t seem to get the blood off of. Dismissing my wings, I curl into myself and try to breathe, but my chest is tight, the air trapped in my lungs.
“Donovan!” Keziah cries, crawling over to pull me into her arms. “Breathe, baby. I need you to breathe.”
“You never told me,” I wheeze, my whole body shivering, “that they’d look human.”
