Page 46 of A Thief Among Fae

His arms cross. “Higher. Are you going to let a slab of wood best you?”

“I’m trying!” A sharp pain stabs behind my eyes, as if I’m staring at the sun.

Then my mind buckles. The target slams against the stone floor with a crack that jolts through the room. Agony bursts through my skull, knocking the breath from my lungs.

Then my knees hit the floor.

Darkness rushes in at the edges of my vision. I brace one hand against the ground, trying to stay upright, but my arms tremble. Somewhere nearby, Desmond says my name, sharp and commanding, yet it sounds distant, like he’s calling to me from underwater. I collapse before I can answer.

Cold stone presses against my cheek. For one humiliating moment, all I can hear is my own ragged breathing.

Desmond kneels beside me. He’s calm while I lie sprawled at his feet, weak enough to black out from a simple task.

If I can’t do this, will they send me home? I can’t fail. Not when Evie’s health hinges on this tomb raid. I can’t be useless again.

I pant as I sit up. My skull throbs in time with my heartbeat. “Let me try again.”

“Drink,” Desmond orders. “You’re dehydrated.”

There’s a pitcher on a shelf near Finnian. I slowly stand and step toward it.

He clicks his tongue. “With magic.”

The pitcher jerks into the air. Water sloshes as I levitate it to me. I glare at him over the lip as I take slow gulps of the icy water.

“That was sloppy.” Desmond is suddenly too close again. I can hear the flare of his nose. “Next time, consider doing it instead of trying it. Be stronger than the pain.”

I shove him away. This day has been one pitfall after another. Instead of the tomb raiders I wanted to meet, I’m surrounded by Erickson’s thieves, and my new “crewmates” just watched me fail.

“That’s too easy for you to say!” I snap. “Are you really that good with your Gift, or are you lecturing out of your ass?”

“I’m more than good,” Desmond says. His hazel eyes frost over as his lips curl. “I’m devastating.”

“Prove it!”

He stares me down as though I’m nothing more than an obstacle he could dismiss with a wave of his hand. It’s impossible to believe this is the same man who bandaged my shoulder at the market and gave me his bed.

“This is going to be good,” Finnian chortles.

Chapter 13

Desmond walks to the sparring mat in the room’s corner. I move opposite him. A duel isn’t how I expected him to prove himself, but I’ll take it.

“The first to restrain the other with a weapon wins,” he says.

“Deal.”

Then he unstraps all of his daggers and kicks them across the floor.

My gaze tracks them, then snaps back to him. “What are you doing?”

“Making the fight fair,” he answers, confidence oozing through the bond between us.

That’s a little insulting.

I size him up. He’s deliberately still, assessing every move I make. And he’s fae. From what I’ve heard, fae have the best reflexes. Orcs are the strongest, goblins are the most cunning, and humans are the jack of all trades but masters of none.

And he has an Elite Gift in his arsenal.