Page 9 of Curiosity Killed The Vampire

If they survived him first.

CHAPTER 3

The fight ended the way all sparring matches with Constantine eventually did—suddenly, completely, and without mercy.

Duke came in high, Darius low, their movements synchronized, but Con moved like liquid steel. His spear was a blur—one strike caught Darius’ weapon and twisted it out of his grip, the next swept Duke’s legs out from under him before either brother realized what had happened. They hit the mat almost in unison, grunting as the air rushed from their lungs.

For a moment, neither moved. Only the sound of their quick, ragged breathing filled the room.

Con lowered his spear, leaning on it casually, the ghost of a smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth. “You’re both good,” he said, voice even. “But you’re still telegraphing every move. You need to think like predators, not soldiers.”

Duke let out a low groan and rolled onto his back, one arm flung across his chest. “Been a long time since I got schooled like that,” he muttered. “I feel like a greenhorn again.”

Con’s eyes glinted gold. “You are,” he said flatly.

The twins exchanged a look and laughed under their breath—half pain, half admiration. They climbed to their feet, smoothing their clothes. Their pride was dented but not broken; that much I could see. There was respect in their eyes now, the kind that only came from having their asses handed to them by a man who’d mastered every weapon a hundred times over.

They stepped out of the ring, shoulders squared despite the exhaustion. Con followed, the muted scrape of his boots steady and unhurried. He rested the spear against the railing and began listing corrections with that focused authority that made him impossible to argue with.

“Your balance is off-center when you pivot,” he said, nodding toward Darius. “You’ll need to strengthen your stance before we advance to live weapons. Work on grounding your back foot.” He turned to Duke. “You favor your dominant arm. Stop relying on brute strength. Power is nothing without precision.”

Duke nodded, still breathing hard. “Yes, sir.”

Con’s gaze softened slightly. “You don’t need to call me that.”

“After that beating, I kind of do,” Duke said with a grin.

Quiet laughter came from Val’s corner, but it died abruptly when Lilah spoke.

She’d been watching Con with her head tilted just slightly, her eyes following every line of his movement since the fight began. A hint of a smile curved her lips as she ran a hand down the braid over her shoulder.

“I’d love to go a round or two with you,” she said, voice low and suggestive, each word drawn out deliberately.

The comment hung in the air like static.

Darius and Duke immediately looked away, pretending to inspect their spears. Val and Quinn—ever the opportunists—found the weapons wall suddenly fascinating, studying blades they’d seen a hundred times before with exaggerated focus.

Con didn’t move. For a long moment, he just looked at her—expression unreadable, the flicker of irritation behind his calm the only giveaway.

“If you’re asking for training,” he said finally, his tone clipped, “I’ll oblige. But I won’t go easy on you. The twins are fledglings. You are not.”

Lilah’s smile didn’t falter. “I wouldn’t want you to.”

A muscle ticked in Con’s jaw, the smallest tell that she was getting under his skin. It wasn’t desire—no, that was something different. This was the kind of annoyance only arrogance could provoke.

He picked up his spear again, the motion fluid and precise, and set it against the wall with an abrupt click. “Then you’ll report here tomorrow at dusk,” he said without looking back. “Wear armor.”

Lilah’s smile widened, clearly mistaking the cold professionalism for challenge. “I always do.”

Con turned away before she could say anything else, his shoulders tight, jaw set.

I caught the brief glimmer of something in his eyes—exasperation, maybe even discomfort—and it made me want to smile. He hated this kind of attention, though he’d never admit it. To everyone else, he was untouchable—an apex predator, the perfect warrior. But I knew better. Beneath that iron composure was a man who didn’t play games. Especially not those kinds.

Val muttered under his breath, “This is going to be fun to watch,” and Quinn elbowed him hard enough to make him wince.

Con ignored them both, gesturing for the twins to follow him toward the exit. “You’ve done enough for tonight,” he said. “Rest, and return at first dark. We’ll begin weapons endurance drills.”

The twins gave quick nods, relief and pride mingling in their exhausted faces. As they walked out, Val and Quinn trailed after them, whispering quietly, their amusement barely contained.