A laugh bursts from me, half shocked, half relieved. I stare down at my hands as crimson-gold light pulses fiercely beneath my skin, warm, alive, and powerful.
“I did it!”My voice trembles with disbelief and something fiercer, pride, maybe, or the dawning realization of exactly what I’m becoming. “I actually did it!”
“First lesson complete.” Hades almost smiles.Almost.“You can manipulate life force at its most basic level. Now we build from there.”
Over the next two hours, they put me through my paces.
Hades teaches me to sense blood from greater distances. I practice on club members inside the building, learning to distinguish between supernatural signatures. Rogue’s lycan blood burns hot and wild, Scorch’s carries the echo of dragon fire, and Hex’s thrums with electrical current from his technomancy.
Oracle works with me on control, showing me how to regulate the Bloodfire so it doesn’t explode out of me every time I feel a strong emotion. It’s harder than it sounds because the fire wants to burn. It wants to consume. Keeping it banked requires constant attention.
“Think of it like breathing,” Oracle advises after I accidentally scorch a target to ash. “You don’t consciously think about every breath. You just do it. The Bloodfire should be the same. Present, but controlled. Part of you but not controlling you.”
“Easy for you to say…” I wipe sweat from my forehead. “You’ve had five centuries to practice.”
“I’ve also died and been reborn forty-three times.” His smile is wry. “Each time, I have to relearn control from scratch. Trust me, you’re doing remarkably well for someone who awakened less than twenty-four hours ago.”
His words actually make me feel better.
Around noon, Reyna joins us. The Valkyrie moves as if she were born to fight, all coiled grace and deadly precision. Her storm-touched armor shimmers into existence around her body, Divine Armor that looks like captured lightning.
“Heard you need combat training,” she says, spinning a spear that definitely wasn’t there a second ago. “Can’t have our new Blood Witch getting her ass kicked by every vampire with delusions of grandeur.”
“I know how to fight,” I protest. “I grew up in foster care. You learn to defend yourself pretty fast.”
“Human fighting?” Reyna’s grin is sharp. “Mm… that’s not going to cut it against supernaturals. We move faster, hit harder, and don’t play by mortal rules.” She gestures to the training yard. “Show me what you’ve got.”
What follows is the most humiliating hour of my life.
Reyna doesn’t pull her punches, kicks, spear strikes, or any of the thousand ways she finds to put me on my ass. My newly enhanced reflexes help, but she’s been a warrior for centuries, and it shows.
“You telegraph your moves,” she says, offering a hand to pull me up for the fifteenth time. “You’re thinking like a human. Worried about getting hurt. But you’re not human anymore, Sloane. You heal fast. You’re stronger than you think. So…stop holding back.”
“I’m not—”
She sweeps my legs out from under me.
I hit the concrete hard, and frustration boils over. The Bloodfire surges, and without thinking, I lash out with it.Crimson-gold flames erupt from my hand, catching Reyna across the chest.
Her Divine Armorscreams. The sound is unlike anything I’ve heard, metal and magic shrieking as my Bloodfire burns through enchantments that should be impervious. Reyna staggers back, her eyes wide, smoke rising from the blackened scorch mark across her breastplate.
“Oh my God!” I scramble to my feet. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean—”
“That. Was…Amazing!”Reyna laughs, actuallylaughs, poking at the damage. “Do you haveany ideahow hard this armor is to dent? I’ve taken hits from demigods that barely scratched it. And you just burned straight through!”
“I…what?”
“Careful, witch.” She meets my eyes, and there’s respect there now. Not just tolerance or amusement.Real respect.“Even gods respect that flame. Whatever you’re becoming, it’s powerful enough to harm Divine constructs.” Her grin widens. “I like you more already.”
A rush of warmth moves through me, and Crave’s pride arrives with it, firm and unshakable, claiming its place.‘That was fucking hot.’He’s damn near glowing with how hard I’m trying, even when I’m fucking everything sideways.
‘Stop, I’m trying to concentrate,’I send back to him with a warm smile.
His answering affection feels like a caress.
The afternoon brings different teachers.
Seraphine appears with her guitar, settling on a bench at the edge of the training yard. She doesn’t speak at first, just plays. The melody is hauntingly beautiful, threaded with her siren’s magic.
