Expecting another punch, I lean on my back foot, and ground myself in place. He comes forward, as anticipated, and when he does, I deliver my retaliation. I twist the blade to distract him, before I deliver a thunderous front kickthat thuds against his sternum, knocking the wind from his lungs.
He clutches his chest and pulls back.
“Why you?” I ask, as he regroups.
“I’ve got suspicions.” We share another dance of strikes and defenses. “But I can’t give you a solid answer.”
Not good. I’m liking this less and less by the second.
“Your turn.” Elias storms at me. He throws a punch, but cuts it short midway to my jaw. Attempting to block the first blow, I don’t see his left hand move from his side. It slams against my chin, nearly knocking my mask clean off my face. “Tell me about the girl.”
Instead of seeing stars from the impact, images of her scatter across my mind. The defiance in her eyes, her body hidden yet responding to me, how she held onto me before I left…
I blame Elias. Mentioning her while my brain was rattling around my skull.
Spinning with the impact in a way that cushions the blow, I land facing him again, my blade up and poised to strike.
“What about her?”
“Why are you having Voodoo keep tabs on her?” He doesn’t move toward me. I don’t go to him. Each of us is merely observing our opponent.
“Safety.” A general blanket statement. Maybe hers, maybe the Veil’s, it’s easy to hide behind.
“But she’s not part of the Veil,” he says. That’s an easy deflection when we’re duty bound to a single cause.
“She will be. Indirectly,” I say. “Our protection, her protection, they become one and the same when she’s getting closer to the truth.”
At least, that’s what I tell myself.
“She’s not getting closer to the truth,” he says. “The Head won’t let her.”
But she is getting closer to me. Slowly and steadily, chipping away at my walls.
“She lives in our home. Our Great Hall sits beneath her bedroom window. She won’t be blind to it for long.”
He steps forward. With his movement, I bring my blade down fast and hard, aimed at his shoulder. Elias ducks under the swipe, preparing a strong right hook for my midsection.
He caught me off guard once. It won’t happen again.
Using the momentum from my swing, I twist the handle between my hands and slice upward this time. Knowing it will connect if I don’t adjust course, I flick my wrists back, pulling the flat edge of the katana against my forearm, while allowing the blunt end of the handle to strike the bridge of his nose.
The impact floors him.
“We have enemies.” I stand over his body, sheathing my blade. “Lilith doesn’t deserve to become a target.”
Elias hooks his thumb against his nose, and presses it back into place with little more than a wince. “Are you sure your old man wasn’t right?”
“About what?” I ask.
“About you feeling something…” He lets the words linger precariously between us, sucking in short breaths to steady himself. “Emotion is more dangerous to a Ghost than any threat that could come her way.”
“It’s not about me.” But try as I might to fight it, I can’t. I felt it forming a long time ago. An un-scratchable itch in the back of my mind, neutering all the good sense I’ve got.
“It’s not about the Veil, either,” he says.
“Everything I do is in service of the Veil.” It takes a lot to keep myself from screaming it. Questioning my decisions is one thing, but doubting my loyalties will not be tolerated.
“Spoken like a man who’s fully in control of his emotions,” Elias scoffs, lifting himself off the ground. “Don’t worry, Ghost, this stays between us. But don’t let that hunger cloud your judgment.”
