Page 91 of Vervain

His hand touches my waist, angling me, my back grazing his chest, his fiery eyes running down my neck while he positions me as though I’m a doll. “There,” he breathes. “Your movements will be less awkward if you’re fighting on an angle. Never face your enemy head-on. If they move, you need time to sidestep, and it is easier if you aren’t tripping over your feet.”

“Okay,” I breathe.

A low chuckle unfurls from him as his fingers move up my waist. “Do I make you tense, Saya?”

My slackened grip tightens, and I spin and slash the blade through the space he once was. Shadows disperse, a hint of a laugh behind me, his finger drawing down my sweaty nape. “Always raise your sword after you swing. Do not stop. Do not hesitate. Prepare for the next attack. Anything less will get you killed.”

With a deep breath in, I lift my blade, understanding what Serun is trying to teach me, even if his methods are infuriating.

“Again,” he says.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

ENTROPY

Saya Claymore

Zack is the type of nightwalker I’d have no trouble believing lives in the underground tunnel system. More rat than anything else, he came to Serun’s room a few hours later, halting my training, which was going as pathetically as I expected.

He slouches over, head snapping left to right underneath the ragged, ripped cloak keeping him hidden. The only part of his face that can be seen is his hooked, protruding nose. Dark red eyes keep moving, unable to stay focused on anything, while he hobbles around the room, flinching when I breathe.

Serun folds his arms across his chest and leans against the kitchen counter beside me. “How do you fare, Zack?”

“Good, good,” the nightwalker says as he dances through shadows that move like snakes about the room. “Keepin’ busy. You? What brings you here, master?”

Master?

Serun’s eyes narrow, and he juts out his jaw. Devoured by shadows, he says, “I want to know the easiest way to get to the nightwalker outpost. I’m in no mood for a fight.”

Zack looks at me for a fraction of a second, then down at the floor while he paces back and forth, ensuring he doesn’t step on one of Serun’s moving shadows. “Ah, yes. Okay…Are you intending to only go as far as the outpost, or cross the border?”

“Cross the border.”

Zack bobs his head as if digesting this information. “Echoes congregate around the outpost hunting flesh, ’cause the silly humans gather there thinking we have food within our borders.” His bare, dirty feet slap against the cement floor as he spins and jumps to the other side of the room. He jumps up and walks along the lounge, eyes on the exit. “Slayers have also been daring. When they hand over blood bags, some try to sneak through only for the Death Spirit to kill them—but he hasn’t been seen this past week.”

“Maeve is keeping him in the Undercity, but I will inform her he is needed.”

Zack nods a lot. “Yes, it would be wise to cull them.”

“Do you know why they’re trying to breach our borders?” Serun asks.

He shrugs and picks at some lint on the lounge. “Something about vervain…”

“The plant?” Serun asks coolly without missing a beat, but I notice his shadows smooth down, flowing like water from an open faucet. “Do they use it for something?”

“Don’t know. Don’t stick around long enough to listen. They know my face.”

Serun nods. “Was that all, Zack?”

“Yes. Yes, I believe so. Head to Coven. They have boats. Take one down Rive Bay. That’s how most nightwalkers are crossing the border since the echoes.”

“Then I will trust your word.”

Zack looks at me, then at the exit. “I will leave you be, master and master’s wife.”

Wife?

As the nightwalker scurries towards the door, Serun says, “Thank you for your services, Zack.”