Hunted

“Of course, Cardinal.”

Grampa patted my cheek then teleported. I glanced at Bran. “What did he mean by help me go to sleep?”

“He knows that my presence calms you down.”

Ah, the curse of having a powerful Psi as a grandfather. Nothing ever escaped him. Bet he’d know when I finally lost my virginity. I cringed at the thought. Or maybe now that I was a stronger Psi, I could compel him not to read me. I turned and eyed Bran. Maybe I should practice on him. We had two hours before the training session with Master Haziel.

I took Bran’s hands in mine and looked into his emerald eyes. You must do my bidding without questioning me.

“What are you doing?” he asked, scowling.

Compelling you to do my wish. Come with me.

He chuckled, dimples flashing. “Nice try. Do you want to head to the pit for an early workout?”

“How come I can’t compel you?”

Bran tapped my head. “I hear your thoughts, Sunshine. And the calculating gleam in your eyes told me you were up to no good before you spoke. Come on, change into your gym clothes and meet me at the pit in three minutes.”

I pouted. “You are no fun.”

“I don’t mind being your guinea pig, just not now. Training will get your mind off seducing me. Not that you need to. The first person at the pit gets to choose the first weapon,” he added, then teleported.

I made a face. Lack of sleep might make me cranky as a hellhound, but he wasn’t beating me.

Being able to see psi energies had its perks. I noted that Bran wasn’t in the pit before I materialized. Although lights were on in the Academy’s rotunda, the pit was in total darkness. I willed the light crystals to turn on as soon as I arrived.

I was choosing a wooden staff when Bran arrived.

“I won,” I said with glee.

“I should have insisted on proper dress code,” he said, staring at my feet.

I glanced down and grimaced. We all had several pairs of lightweight leather martial arts shoes, in black or black and red, for use in the pit. He wore all black. Mine didn’t match.

“Nitpicking, sore loser.” I threw one stick to him.

He caught it and rotated it while moving, already anticipating an attack. “We’ll see about that.”

“After the sticks, we’ll use knives then swords.”

“Bloodthirsty this morning, aren’t you?” He teased, circling me slowly, knees bent and feet angled away from each other for stability, eyes on me. While I held the long staff with two hands, knuckles up, he rotated his in one hand.

“Scared?” I asked.

“Shaking in my shoes.” He rushed me.

Ducking, I blocked, twisted my stick and disengaged it from under his and attacked, aiming for his feet. He teleported out of the way and appeared behind me, but I’d anticipated his move. I turned and knocked the staff from his hand.

He caught it and cocked his right eyebrow. “Very good.”

“I know.”

Next time around, I wasn’t so lucky. He had me on my back in five moves.

“Stop goofing around,” he scolded, offering me his hand. “Don’t ever let me get inside your head and anticipate your next move.”

I hated it when he talked to me in that superior tone. Ignoring his hand, I teleported to my feet and swung, aiming for his ribs. He blocked, shifted his weight and leveled a kick at my exposed side. I ducked and jumped back. Anchoring the stick down on one end, I swung on it and caught him in the chest with both feet. He staggered backward and grinned.

“Could be better,” he said.

There was no pleasing him, so I pushed harder. There was no more talking as we tried to outmaneuver each other with moves and counter-moves, the sounds of wood hitting wood echoing in the pit. Adrenaline pumped in my veins and euphoria buzzed through me. Soon we were both breathing hard and sweating.

We stopped for a water break and a change of weapons. Bran’s gaze shot to mine as he reached out to take his dagger from my hand. I had kicked his butt in the last round.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “I promise to go easy on you this time.”

Smirking, he took the dagger and flipped it around. The blade gleamed as it whipped in the light. He flung it in the air, then grabbed it backhand and lunged for me, the blade directed at my throat. I batted his arm away and surged toward him.

He used my weight and threw me over his head, but I teleported and reappeared on his side. He was waiting for me and I barely managed to block his attack. Another bout of strikes and counterstrikes followed and it seemed like forever before I tackled him and had him at a disadvantage. I loomed over him, my pulse quickening.

“You are enjoying this?” he said.

“Oh, you have no idea.” I pressed the edge of the blade to his skin, loving the way his eyes widened. I could never hurt him and he knew it. Still… I nicked him. He sucked in a breath.

“You’re playing with fire,” he warned in a voice gone suddenly husky.

Heat pooled like warm honey low in my belly as I responded. “What are you going to do about it?”

He grinned.

“This.” His free arm looped around me and pulled me on top of him. Eye locked with mine, one hand skated along my arm while the other reached for my face. He pried the dagger from my hand before I realized his intention, then he pressed both blades against my neck. “You are dead.”

“You don’t play fair,” I protested.

“You lost focus.”

“You cheated.” Giving him an annoyed look, I jumped up and went to get swords. I handed him one and willed a second one from the wall. Using a move Master Haziel had taught me, I focused on the powers inside me, willing them to move.

Heat shot from my lower back, up my spine and spread through my core. The ancient words raced to my hands, making them tingle. I grinned. We’d practiced controlling the Kris Dagger’s powers, but I didn’t know I could bring the powers forth without being attacked.

“How was that?” Bran asked.

“Effortless.” I removed wet strands of hair from my sweaty forehead. “Should I be worried? I don’t want to get comfortable with them.”

“I’m sure the headaches will continue to remind you they don’t belong inside you. Ready?” He attacked.

We moved across the floor, thrusting, cutting, and parrying. Bran was a better swordsman, and he didn’t cut me any slack. He pushed me hard, landing blows several times when I messed up, but I got him several times too. Luckily, the carbon steel training swords didn’t have sharpened edges despite having the balance and weight of real swords.

“Slowing down your teleport has made you a better fighter,” he said during another water break.

“Praise from the master, yippee.”

He rolled his eyes and looked at his watch. “It’s six-fifty. Do you want to stop or move to hand-to-hand combat?”

Gutter fighting involved lots of body contact, which was both exciting and frustrating, because he distracted me way too easily. Not needing another lecture on self-control, I plopped down on one of the mat and stared at the crystals on the ceiling.

“Nope. I’m done,” I declared

He squatted beside me. “Come on.”

“No,” I said with a pout, then saw Master Haziel near the entrance. How long had he been watching us? “We