“No. She isn’t like anyone, and her magic is something I’ve never seen before.”
“So you think her blood has forged a psychic connection with her aunt and uncle.”
“It seems possible.”
Gabriel tapped the papers in her hand. “What should we do about Harlow?”
“In light of what we’ve just learned? Nothing. If Harlow is keeping Marius from experiencing these nightmares, we can’t interrupt that until I figure out what’s happening with Charlie and break the bond between them. I don’t want her experiencing the darkness and monsters in his head.”
Gabriel nodded. “We are in agreement on that.”
Raven sighed. “I’ll figure it out.”
Gabriel kissed her lightly on the lips. “I know you will, little witch. You always do.”
Chapter Eight
Marius tied his long pale hair back at the base of his neck. He’d received a falcon to meet Harlow at the practice arena that afternoon. Part of him couldn’t wait. That part of him was in his pants. The rest of him desperately wanted out of this agreement.
He’d given his word that if she bested him in a match, he’d let her train him. He needed a coach, and she was undeniably talented and knowledgeable when it came to pit fighting. The problem was, she was also achingly beautiful, and he couldn’t very well fight with a perpetual hard-on for her.
“Fuck it,” he murmured, punching the wall of the locker room hard enough for it to hurt before striding out toward the arena. Harlow was already there. With another man. An attractive man with blond hair and eyes the color of new foliage. A man whose death and resurrection hadn’t scarred him with symbols like some sort of weird zombie experiment. Fucker.
His inner dragon growled possessively. He squelched it by coughing into his hand. He had zero right to feel any sort of way toward Harlow. He hardly knew her. Still, the corners of his mouth felt heavy as he neared the other man. He was scowling. He tried to stop and failed.
“Who is this?” he barked.
Harlow beamed at him as if he were as cheery as a flower in the first rays of sunshine. “Marius, right on time! I’d like you to meet Brantley. Brant is a retired pit champion. He’s generously agreed to be your sparring partner.”
Brant waved. “Not that generously. She’s paying me.” He turned back to Harlow. “I expect to be paid, Hairy. Don’t try to weasel out of it.”
“Yes. Right. Of course.” She smoothed the waist of her dress.
“Hairy?” Marius asked.
Harlow ignored his comment. “Marius, do you have my payment?”
Marius dug in his satchel and pulled out a pouch of thirty gold tallons—three thousand dragmars. He dropped the pouch into her hands. Her jaw popped open when she looked inside and counted it. “This is… more than we discussed.”
“It’s for the entire cycle,” Marius said flatly. Never mind that he understood they would not train together every day. He’d decided to pay her as if they would. She must need it if she was willing to fight for it. “Easier for the accountant. Fewer transactions.”
She didn’t argue about the discrepancy. He watched her swallow hard and her eyes grow glossy. There was need in those eyes, like she was hungry and the purse in her hands meant a solid meal. It was a silly thought. Harlow had never wanted for anything. She was probably doing this out of boredom and a need for some spending money that was free from her father’s control. Still, he watched her curiously as she counted out a portion for Brantley and then put the rest in her bag with trembling hands. Odd.
When she turned back to the arena, she composed herself. “Now that the formalities are out of the way, let’s start with balance exercises.”
“Balance exercises?” Marius grunted. In all his years of training as a youth, he’d never performed exercises strictly for balance. They were always incorporated into some other move. “We’re not going to spar?”
“Not yet,” she said. “You’re still favoring your left leg. We need to balance you out or nothing else I teach you is going to be effective.”
He grunted again. At least Brantley didn’t look that thrilled with the idea either.
Harlow stepped down into the arena and lowered herself into a fighting stance. “Follow what I do.”
Marius gave a low chuckle. “I can’t even see what you’re doing, Hairy. Your skirt’s in the way.”
She sighed and undid a button over her hip. His mouth went completely dry as she stepped out of the skirt and tossed it aside, leaving her in a set of formfitting breeches designed for a man. Fuck. And then to add insult to injury, she spread her wings. Goddess, he needed water.
Thank all that was holy, she wasn’t watching him. She lowered herself into a low lunge, her fists up to defend her face. “Now do what I do.” With all her weight on one leg, she squatted low and circled her other leg until her ankles crossed. Then she switched and circled her opposite leg. She continued the intricate steps, holding her wings steady while incorporating a series of fast, precise punches and sweeping blocks.
