“Eyes up,” Gemini snapped. “Keep your focus.”
I gritted my teeth and refocused, resuming my fighting stance and preparing to strike again.
Lark knew what he was doing, lazing about in that armchair, nibbling on fruit as he watched me train, that dazzling smirk ever present on his lips. If I were intended to focus, he could try a bit harder not to be such a distraction. Though at present, I wasn’t sure which was more distracting. Him or that peach in his hands. My stomach grumbled as my gaze flicked back to Gemini in time to see her lunge forward.
I protected myself, sidestepping her attack and coming up with one of my own. She blocked it, of course. She always did. But at least I’d delivered some sort of blow before she swept my legs out from beneath me and I went crashing down onto my backside with another curse.
Lark chuckled and I cut him a glare as I got back to my feet.
“Don’t laugh, boy,” Gemini snapped, “or I’ll come for you next.”
My glare turned into a grin as I stuck my tongue out at him. He smiled, raising a brow as he licked peach juice slowly from his thumb. My heart raged against my chest but then Gemini thwapped me on the side of the head and my gaze snapped to her.
“Enough of this,” she barked. “If the two of you are going to behave like love-struck teenagers, you can work out that tension on the mat. Come on then, boy.”
Lark licked his lips and stood, wiping his hands off on his trousers as he strode forward and positioned himself in front of me.
“Wide stance,” Gemini was coaching me from nearby. “Balance on the balls of your feet, not flat, floating, like dancing. Okay, watch him now. He’s got a tell.”
“I do not,” Lark argued, annoyed.
“His hands,” Gemini told me. “He fights with his hands as much as he talks with them.”
“What does that mean?” I asked but Gemini didn’t have time to answer as Lark swung out and I slid sideways, narrowly avoiding the collision of his fist with my shoulder. My eyes widened as I faced him, stunned, and leveled my accusation. “You tried to hit me.”
“I want you to live,” he told me. “If I have to kick your ass to make that happen, so be it.”
My gaze narrowed. I took up my stance again, readied myself for the blow.
It took a few swings from Lark and a few dodges from me before I realized what Gemini had been trying to tell me. Lark gesticulated more than anyone I’d ever known and there were hints, little tics, sudden flexes of his fingers, that told me when he was preparing to strike. Once I noticed them, I could anticipate the punches better. I could duck and roll away from them. He wasn’t much for defense, choosing instead to keep me so busy avoiding his blows that I couldn’t even attempt to land any of my own. We circled one another for so long that I was starting to believe I was actually getting the hang of this, that I was maybe even a quick learner, catching on so fast that I could already keep pace with the prince of the Bone Court. But then Gemini hissed another command, this one to Lark, and I realized how wrong I was.
“Quit playing with her, boy,” Gemini scolded. “Your enemy won’t.”
Then, in one quick fluid motion so fast I hadn’t seen it coming at all, Lark swept my feet out from under me, catching me before I could fall and holding me in his arms only inches above the mat. He leaned over me, that dark gaze penetrating my own, and grinned.
“Not bad, mortal,” he drawled.
I pushed away from him, scrambling away and getting to my feet, turning to face him once more.
“Again,” I growled and it was the first time I’d seen Gemini smile.
Time and time again, Lark knocked me to the mat. Sometimes he caught me, sometimes he pinned me down, sometimes he let me go tumbling down on my own, earning myself a bruised ass along with my bruised pride. Every time I fell down, I got back up even madder than before, tried a little harder, lashed out a little more. But he had been training for centuries longer than me and it showed. I could tell he was holding himself back, even as we spun around each other, evading and attacking, and that only made me angrier.
Gemini called out instructions from time to time, suggestions about how to dodge his more critical blows, where I might land my own, but I never even so much as touched him. He was too strong, too fast, and too smart. I failed time and time again but still; I tried.
I was sweating through my pants, my shirt. My hair was damp and stuck to my forehead. I took a moment to catch my breath, using the time to toss my hair up into a ponytail and pull my shirt up and over my head. I couldn’t fight with the material clinging to my sticky body so a sports bra would have to do. I turned back to Lark to find him grinning like a madman.
“If you’re trying to distract me,” he drawled, his eyes flicking down to my breasts, “it won’t work.”
That comment earned him a smack on the back of the head from his circling aunt. He hissed in a breath, rubbing the back of his head and shooting her a glare as she made her way back to me.
“Don’t be disgusting,” she warned and I couldn’t help but grin as she made her way to my side and lowered her voice. “You’ve figured it out by now. He won’t hurt you. Use that to your advantage.”
I raised my gaze to meet hers and nodded. Then I wiped my sweaty face with my shirt and tossed it aside, cracking my neck, my knuckles, as I resumed my position in front of Lark. Annoyingly, he hadn’t seemed to break a sweat at all and I couldn’t help but feel disgusted by the break I had needed to attend to my very mortal stamina.
I raised my fists and he lowered himself into his stance. I attacked with all I had, getting in close so that he couldn’t simply bat me away. He actually had to fight back. He blocked the first punch, then the second, but the third landed squarely on his jaw.
He stumbled back a step, raising a hand and rubbing his jaw in surprise. When he looked back at me, his gaze darkened.
