CHAPTER ONE
"Here, kitty, kitty."
The frozen earth crunches beneath my boots as I circle left, watching Orion’s stance for any tell. My breath mists in the November air, and my fingers have gone numb despite the gloves I'm wearing.
Training in late fall in New England is about as pleasant as sitting on a toilet seat of ice, but at least the cold keeps me buzzing.
Well, that and the ley line energy coming off the Hallowind standing stones beyond the trees.
"You're telegraphing, Poppy." Eliza's voice carries from where she’s watching from the back porch of my house. "I can see that right hook coming from three miles away. And if I can see it from here, your opponent surely will."
"Maybe I want him to see it." I waggle my eyebrows at Orion, keeping his attention on me as Asher creeps ever closer, using the trees for cover. “Am I going with the right hook or am I the queen of misdirection?”
Orion snorts, flicking his head to get a patch of sweaty black hair out of his eyes. “You’re the queen of many things, Pop-Tart. I’m not sure misdirection is in your repertoire. Or subtlety either, for that matter.”
Rude.I move in anyway, dropping low and sweeping toward his legs. He jumps back with feline grace—literally feline, given the whole white tiger situation—and I use the momentum to spring up and actually throw that right hook.
He blocks it without even blinking.
"Better." The vertical pupils of his ice-blue eyes are barely visible in the weak afternoon light, but I see him assess me like I'm a particularly interesting puzzle.
"Again,” Eliza calls.
Asher's yelp punctuates the thud of a body hitting frozen ground. "I'm fine!" he calls out before anyone can ask. "Just testing the density of New England soil. For science."
"Was that you being stealthy, Hendrix?" Orion jogs over to help him out of the tangle of the forest scrub, his gaze glinting with amusement.
Asher grunts, indignantly. “Hey, Iwasbeing stealthy! I got this close, didn't I? I’m working at a disadvantage here. I can’t command vines to trip people up.”
Rowan laughs, coming out from where she was hiding in the shadows. “Dude, you’re human. You need to be ready for stuff like that. You gotta dodge incoming attacks.”
“I did dodge… just in the wrong direction.” Asher accepts the hand up, his shaggy blond hair damp with sweat and sticking up at odd angles. "Also, the term dodging is boring. I prefer interpretive dancing through combat situations."
"That explains so much about your fighting style." The red streaks in Rowan’s black hair catch the light as she joins us. In a leather jacket and combat boots, she’s not your typical image of a witch in battle. "And by 'style' I mean 'beautiful disaster.'"
Asher takes a theatrical bow. "I am art in motion, thank you very much for noticing."
I'm laughing, even as Orion comes at me again. This time I block his strike and counter with a jab that actually makes him shift his weight.
"Good," Eliza calls out. "Your reflexes are improving, Poppy."
"And it’s only taken three weeks of getting my ass handed to me on the daily."
"Three weeks is nothing."
Orion moves again, and I barely get my guard up in time.
Eliza shakes her head and jumps down from the porch, jogging over. "You're still thinking too much. Let your body react. Don’t think. Just do.”
Easy for her to say. She's been doing this since before I was born, and she's got actual predator instincts built into her DNA.
I'm just a witch trying not to embarrass myself in hand-to-hand combat while my best friends provide color commentary.
"So, guys?" Asher’s tone still sounds slightly winded. "Don't you think Emberwood has been weirdly quiet lately? Like, suspiciously quiet?"
Orion winces. "Ugh, don't jinx it, dude."
"I'm not jinxing anything. I'm simply making an observation. Big difference."
