Chapter 24
“Motherfucker!”
Maya staggered back. Blood dripped from a gash on her arm, joining the dozens of red stains already scattered on the snowy ground.
“Really? Was that necessary?”
Aleksander wiped his blade with a handkerchief. “Painful lessons stick better.”
Someone snickered, which was the only reason Maya kept from groaning. Aleksander hadn’t lied when he said he would teach her, but his lessons weren’t particularly gentle, nor was she equally good at them. The lectures on Court politics she’d received over the past few days were a breeze compared to this.
Usually, combat training—painful as it was—happened in a distant forest clearing. Not in the middle of the Chains outpost where seemingly half the army was congregated.
The outpost was a recently claimed bit of territory. A few groups of cabins centered around a large hunting lodge, fit with a basement for the nocturnal members of the Court. Less than a year before, it had housed a pack of lycanthropes, who had greeted the Chains patrol who came to talk to them by firing silver-loaded shotguns.
They’d been dispersed shortly after. Like Jackie’s pack, they followed brutal traditions. They’d been holding a group of runaway teens captive in a basement when the Chains rolled in, so them being dealt with was a net gain. Andwith the outpost’s proximity to St. Louis, it was a prime spot for deterring their new neighbors from venturing somewhere they weren’t wanted.
But it lacked entertainment. Which explained their growing audience.
Rolling her shoulder and raising her knife, she rushed towards Aleksander. The speed had been staggering only a few days ago, but she was learning quickly. She had to, since the consequences of not keeping up with Aleksander involved you getting stabbed.
He swiped his blade towards her, and she barely avoided the knife’s path. He advanced in a flurry of blows too fast for her to push through. Then Aleksander’s blade suddenly vanished from sight, appearing in his offhand, and sliced over her knuckles.
She cursed and dropped her switchblade. A firm shove followed, sending her stumbling backwards, where she slipped in the snow and fell onto her back.
Aleksander kneeled next to her, resting his knife against her throat.
“You’re dead. Again.”
More snickering. Lovely.
Aleksander offered her his hand. With only slight hesitation, she accepted it and let him pull her upright.
“One more round.”
He handed her back the switchblade. She hadn’t even noticed him picking it up. Though, knowing Aleksander and his cat-like reflexes, he’d caught it before it even hit the ground.
She accepted the blade. “You said ‘one more round’ five rounds ago.”
Scattered laughter sounded from the crowd. Aleksander didn’t react. He just shifted into a combat stance, knife raised. Maya groaned, mirroring him, when a woman with black hair in a ponytail came running up to their sparring circle.
“Message for you, King.” She held up an envelope. Its edges shimmered, as though covered in a layer of frost.
Aleksander’s eyes narrowed. He straightened, accepting the letter.
“Thank you, Kane.” He gave Maya a nod. “Take a break. Seems like you need it.”
Maya kept herself from rolling her eyes. She wasn’t the only one who sucked at lessons. Aleksander’s version of ‘personable’ still needed work.
“That was entertaining.” Diana grinned as Maya hobbled over to her. “You’re making some progress. Aleksander rolled up his sleeves this time.”
Maya grimaced, sitting down on the bench Diana had claimed. She’d wanted a front-row seat to the show.
“Or maybe he just didn’t want to get blood on his shirt.”
Diana laughed, making a few people look their way. But no one approached.
Asking for Diana to follow them to the border hadn’t been based in selfishness, but Maya would be lying if she said she didn’t appreciate her presence. Without her, she wouldn’t have anyone to talk to other than Aleksander.
