The fae held out his hand and a sword appeared in his grasp. “Those are some interesting words, considering they come from the lips of one who killed one of her own, an elder no less.”
The words were a punch to Myanin’s gut, though she showed no outward reaction. A reaction would appear as a weakness, and looking weak in this bunch made you a sheep among wolves. Myanin might have been a lot of things, but a sheep was not one of them. For the first time since having fled the djinn realm, she felt shame, even if only a small amount, concerning her actions. Her opponent was lumping her in with the Order. Traitors to their people. The lowest of the low. She’d never had a high opinion of humans, but she’d also never had the desire to subjugate them. What kind of conqueror did it make you if you only conquered those who stood absolutely no chance against you? That wasn’t power.
Myanin had no idea how the fae knew about her, but she really shouldn’t have been surprised. All it would take is one pixie hearing about what she’d done and the entire supernatural world would know. Hell, the djinn elders had probably put a bounty on her head.
“You’re standing in the middle of the Burning Claw headquarters talking to me about betrayal?” she scoffed. “How many of your people have you killed, fae? I bet it’s more than just one.” His lips tightened further. He didn’t mind pointing the finger at another, but he sure didn’t like having that finger turned on him.
“I am doing what is necessary to help our people. It’s not my fault they cannot see their own folly,” he growled at her as he crouched into a fighting stance and began to circle her.
Myanin moved her feet in time with his, her eyes bouncing from his eyes to his waist and down to his feet, looking for a tell—a subtle movement that preceded his attack. Everyone had a tell. When her eyes met his again, she saw the small shift in them right before he lunged. She crossed her swords above her head, catching the center of his blade. She couldn’t help but smile. This was what she needed. Finally, she felt her own blood pumping through her veins instead of the constant pulse of the magic inside her. Though she wasn’t surrounded by a raging battle, she was still getting to use her abilities—skills she’d honed over the centuries.
He was strong, but then, she wasn’t using her power. She was simply fighting with her martial art skills, as if she had no supernatural power at all. Depending on how much of his own power he used, she might have to pick up her speed or risk a slash to her gut.
The fae lifted his sword away quickly and then swung it down and across. She jumped back, narrowly avoiding the blade. She bounced on the balls of her feet while the fae leered at her. Okay, more power it is. Myanin rolled her neck, loosening up the muscles that had been so tense when she’d woken up. She’d have to be careful. She’d have to give most of her attention to controlling the magic, which actually might be a good thing. It gave her something else to focus on besides the anger the fae’s words had stirred up and the shame she sure as hell didn’t want to feel.
Myanin didn’t wait for him to attack. She moved at a speed almost impossible for even the fae eyes to track. Her swords whipped through the air as she turned, flipped, ducked, and dodged her opponent’s moves. As soon as she picked up the pace, the fae joined her. He was moving just as fast, his sword meeting her own beat for beat. She saw an opening, so Myanin slid toward him and ducked under his sword arm. She twisted and flung her elbow back. It hit the fae squarely in the face. She lunged away from him and turned, blades ready, but no counterattack came. The man wiped blood from his nose. He looked at the red liquid on the back of his hand as if it was a foreign substance. Had he never seen his own blood? Based on the small amount of shock in his grey eyes, perhaps he hadn’t, at least not at the hands of someone he clearly thought beneath him. Myanin smiled. She felt a strange need to taunt him but also thought it beneath her to engage in such a childish tactic. Instead, she simply waited.
“I’m curious,” the fae said as he once again began to circle their sparring area.
“Curiosity can be fatal for cats. It probably isn't much safer for fae,” she said, despite the fact that she’d told herself she wasn’t going to taunt him. Perhaps a little taunting wouldn’t hurt.
“Why did you come here? We’ve never had a djinn join the Order.” He stared at her, his gaze hard as if he were trying to pull information from her mind. “Are you really here because you believe supernaturals should be able to live out in the open instead of hiding in the shadows like rats? Or are you simply hiding yourself?” He stopped moving and then added, “Like a coward.”
“Tsk, tsk, fae,” Myanin said in a soft voice. “Tis not nice to call others names. It makes you look weak. After all, what kind of warrior has to resort to words instead of simply using his blade
