Incubus (5 page)

chili sauce oozed out onto the plate and my mouth watered. I was aware of Dad watching me.

“So.” I moved the omelet around on my plate, waiting for the curls of steam to dissipate before

taking a bite. “You think we’ll be fighting again soon?”

Dad sat next to me at the island. He studied his hands, trying to keep his voice light. “It’s

possible.”

“Possible like it’s possible we’ll go for ice cream today—or possible like it’s possible there are

aliens living on Mars and we don’t know it because they’re just really good at hiding?” When he

didn’t answer, I nudged him with my elbow. “Dad?”

Dad looked up, and I saw tears standing in his eyes.

“Oh.” I swallowed hard, suddenly not hungry. “This is it, isn’t it? This is the final battle.”

Dad looked back at his hands. “It’s possible,” he said again.

One hour later I was standing beside Gretchen in the basement of the Guard’s house, taping my hands

up for practice. Lucas and Matthew were already sparring on the mats behind us. Gretchen finished

taping her hands and slapped them together, hard. As I’d feared, she seemed laser-focused on the job

at hand. I sighed inwardly, knowing I’d walk out of here sore when training was over.

Gretchen turned on me abruptly. “So, listen,” she said. “Mr. Landon told me you saved Lucas’s

life, drawing that Thrall away from him before she could split his head open.” Gretchen put a hand on

my shoulder, giving it a brief squeeze. “I owe you one.”

“Uh, thanks?”

Gretchen wasn’t much for displays of emotion, so it wasn’t a surprise when she turned her back on

me and walked out onto the mat. “You coming or not?” she called over her shoulder.

I hurried out to join her, growing more uneasy by the moment. It had been almost a year since I’d

done any serious training. It had only taken a few weeks for me to recover from my injuries from our

fight with Ais. Lucas’s injuries had taken much longer to heal. But neither of us had resumed training

after that night. As I faced Gretchen, I wondered how much I’d forgotten.

Quite a bit, it turned out.

Gretchen wasn’t pulling her punches, so each time I moved too slowly or failed to anticipate an

attack, I got an immediate reminder of why practicing was a good idea. Hale orbited the mat, offering

suggestions and encouragement to both Lucas and me as we fought our respective sparring partners.

Although, I noticed grimly, Matthew was taking it a lot easier on Lucas.

Distracted, I wasn’t prepared when Gretchen landed a fist in my side. I doubled over, winded.

Gretchen danced back, waiting for me to recover. “I thought you owed me one,” I wheezed.

“Do you need to stop?” she asked.

“No,” I sighed, straightening.

“Then less talk, more concentration.” She moved forward, looking for an opening. This time I kept

my eyes on her, so when she moved, I was ready. I blocked her punch and followed it up with a quick

attack that forced her to step back, wheeling around to defend herself. As she struggled to regain her

balance, I struck, connecting solidly.

She let out an
oooof!
of air, then grinned. “Nice,” she managed. “Keep your elbows in.”

We sparred for close to an hour, when Hale called a water break.

Lucas collapsed into a chair, letting some of his water dribble down the sides of his mouth as he

gulped it in. I sat beside him, wiping sweat off my face with the edge of my t-shirt.

Matthew and Gretchen took their time with their water. A fine sheen of sweat gleamed along their

brows, but nether was breathing heavily. Hale walked over to them to talk. I saw Gretchen glance at

me, a calculating look in her eyes.

“Not looking forward to tomorrow morning,” Lucas said, rubbing a sore shoulder with one hand. I

smiled in sympathy. Lucas sighed. “Don’t even. Tomorrow morning you won’t even have a bruise.”

“I don’t have to heal fast,” I said. “If you’d prefer, I can always leave your dreams alone.”

“Don’t you dare,” Lucas murmured, catching my hand in his and giving it a warm squeeze. His

smile was warm, intimate. If this were a dream I’d lean forward to kiss him. But we weren’t dreaming.

“Okay, break’s over,” Hale said, turning. Lucas and I quickly released hands and Lucas let out a

groan of despair. Hale saw Lucas’s ashen expression and smiled. “Why don’t you sit this one out?”

Lucas and I both sat back, relieved.

“Not you,” Gretchen said, giving me a wicked grin. “Come on. Up.”

“I’m going to show you a few techniques for handling multiple opponents,” Hale said. “Then we’ll

get you started practicing them.” He gestured to Gretchen and Matthew. “Okay. Come at me.”

Gretchen and Matthew traded a quick look, evidentially agreeing on a plan of attack with a few

terse gestures. They sprang at Hale, Gretchen from the front, Matthew from behind. Hale blocked

Gretchen’s attack, but while his attention was focused on her, Matthew came behind him, pinning his

arms behind his back. Gretchen renewed her attack on Hale, who kicked out at her, using her body as

leverage to shove Matthew backwards. Matthew lost his grip on Hale. Hale rolled free, sweeping a

foot behind Matthew’s leg and knocking the younger man flat on his back.

Matthew let out a grunt of surprised pain, and Gretchen’s eyes narrowed. Lucas let a low whistle

escape beside me. I glanced at him and he grinned ruefully. “She’s pissed,” he murmured. “Hale better

watch it.”

Gretchen danced back, judging Hale’s movement. She sprang at him and Hale had to throw

himself awkwardly aside to miss the attack. As he scrambled to gain his footing, Gretchen threw

herself on the ground at his feet, catching him around the knees with her legs and twisting. Hale went

down like a tree felled by an axe, sprawling on the ground. Gretchen was on him in half a second,

pinning him to the ground, fist poised to strike his throat.

“Yeah, okay,” Hale wheezed. “You win.”

Gretchen rolled off him and walked over to Matthew, who was smiling broadly. She offered him

her hand, then helped him stand. Hale stood and gestured to me.

“I don’t know about this,” I said.

“It’s okay,” Hale said. “We’ll start slow.”

Slow, I discovered, was a relative term. Hale had Gretchen and Matthew attack at one quarter

speed the first couple of times while he talked me through some strategies for dealing with them both

at once. The main technique Hale seemed interested in teaching me involved a fairly quick series of

moves to redirect the first attacker while repositioning for the second. Even at quarter-speed, I found

myself breathing harder.

After we’d run through a few slow-motion fights, Hale stepped back.

“Right, let’s pick it up.” He nodded to Gretchen and Matthew.

Gretchen met my eye. “Ready?” she asked.

“I guess?” I barely had time to raise my hands in a defensive position before they sprang. My first

instinct was to turn and run, but Hale was there, shouting instructions, so I did my best to fight back.

Only, my timing seemed completely off. I’d turn my attention to one, just in time to give the second

the perfect opening to tag me with a fist. To be fair, Gretchen and Matthew were fighting half-strength

at best, but facing twice as many fists and feet as I was used to was overwhelming. Each time they

drove me off the mat, Hale would call a stop to the fight and we’d reset in the center of the room. We

drilled the same attack and defense over and over and over. Each time I took more punches than I

gave, and each time I ended up getting driven off the mat. It was demoralizing.

By the end of the session, my whole body ached and my mind felt like it had been forced through a

strainer. It was my turn to collapse into a chair. Lucas had a small towel and a bottle of water ready

for me.

“I feel like a boxer in the ninth inning,” I groaned.

Lucas shook his head. “It’s rounds in boxing, not innings. But you did kind of look like a boxer by

the end there.”

I was mid-gulp, so I couldn’t laugh in disbelief. Lucas read my expression and shook his head.

“Look,” he said, pointing. I turned and saw Gretchen and Matthew, leaning against a table, gulping

down their own waters. “You gave them a workout.”

Huh. They did look kind of exhausted. I finished the bottle of water and smiled, taking a deep

breath.

“You did well, you two,” Hale said, joining us. “Why don’t you rest? We’ll take care of the

equipment for today.”

I sank back into my chair, grateful for the break. Lucas and I sat in silence for a few minutes,

recovering from the grueling session. I finished my water and noticed Lucas eyeing me, as if he

wanted to ask a question.

“What?” I prompted.

“That double step thing Hale had you do—” Lucas said.

“You want me to show you?”

Lucas nodded and we walked into the middle of the room. Hale, Gretchen, and Matthew were busy

rubbing oil into the daggers they’d practiced with before Lucas and I had joined the training session.

They ignored us.

“It’d be easier to show you if you attacked first,” I said. Lucas, who’d had a chance to relax and

recover while I was fighting Gretchen and Matthew, nodded. He attacked as Gretchen had done. I

blocked him, then caught his arm in one of my fists. “From here, if there were a second opponent,

you’d reposition your foot like this,” I settled back into a deeper stance and twisted Lucas’s arm,

turning him on his heel. “Then while the first attacker is recovering, you have a few seconds to deal

with the second.” I “fought” a second imaginary attacker as Lucas watched, curious.

“Okay,” he said. “You come after me.”

I waited for him to raise his hands, then rushed him. Lucas blocked my attack, but when he

reached to grab my hand and reposition his foot he lost his balance and tripped back, pulling me down

on top of him. My squeal broke into a peal of laughter as I looked down into Lucas’s chagrined face.

“You make it look easy,” he said, flushing slightly.

“Hale,” Thane called from the staircase. Lucas and I froze as Thane descended into view. “Marx is

asking for details about the accommodations we’ll be able to offer the Guardsmen—” Thane’s voice

broke off as his eyes found Lucas and me.

Suddenly self-conscious, I rolled off of Lucas. We got quickly to our feet, but the damage had

already been done. Gretchen looked over, sizing up the situation in half a second. She walked quickly

onto the mat, placing herself between Thane and us.

“You,” Thane hissed, turning on Gretchen. “You’re supposed to be chaperoning them.”

“It’s fine, Thane,” she started. “They were just sparring.”

“I have eyes, Ms. Mitchell. And I’m not a fool.”

“They know the rules, Thane.” She turned to face us, crossing her arms. “Right?”

I felt my cheeks reddening and lowered my eyes. “Yes,” I said. “We were just messing around.”

“This is not a game,” Thane said quietly, advancing toward me slowly. “What seems innocent

could cross the line in the blink of an eye. One mistake might cost Lucas his life. And if he dies, you

would face the wrath of the entire Guard.”

I felt hot anger swelling inside, but I refused to blink, determined not to let Thane see how his

words had affected me. Gretchen planted her hand on his chest, arresting him in his tracks. “They get

it, Thane. Back off.”

Thane shrugged. “I’ll leave them in your capable hands, then,” he said, smiling slightly. He turned

toward Hale, who was frowning at Lucas and me thoughtfully.

“Actually, Lucas,” Hale said. “We could use another hand with the equipment.”

Lucas glanced at me wordlessly, then went to help Hale. Stricken, I fled up the staircase to escape

the armory, Thane’s judgment, Hale’s suspicion.

Gretchen followed me. “I know you two are being careful,” she said quietly. “Don’t let him get to

you.”

I froze in my tracks. Someone had left the TV on in the living room. It was muted, but I didn’t

have to hear the newscaster speak. The words “MISSING WOMAN” scrolled beneath a smiling photo.

The next moment, the screen changed and a home movie of the missing woman began playing.