“Why do you want to fight me?” he asked.

  She tossed him one of the wooden katanas. With some flare, he moved like a snake, snagging the sword from the air as though he were born with the weapon in his hands.

  “It’s my same old thing,” Mouse replied, her tone hard. Resolved. “I’m afraid, and I fucking hate it. I need to know I didn’t make a mistake joining your Escort. I heard what Aria said. Maybe I’m not supposed to be with you. Maybe it would better for everyone if I just left. But I can’t go, not until I’m satisfied you’re doomed.”

  “Doomed?” Steven twirled the sword through the air. It felt right to him. Natural.

  “Yeah. If you can’t beat me, then you definitely won’t be able to beat Mulk. You and I have never really fought.” She strutted past him and into the yellow grasses surrounding the house. “This is your chance to show me you have what it takes. Or not.”

  Steven followed her. The smell of the grasses in the sunshine filled his nose, as did the subtle scent of almonds. “I’ll do this, Mouse, but no magic. I don’t have the Animus.” It was kind of a lie. He didn’t have much Animus certainly, but maybe enough for a trick or two.

  “I don’t have the Animus either,” she said. “Just swords. But I have to warn you, my father spent a lot of time with me. We didn’t really talk. But we did fence. Often. And unlike humans, who actually care for their whelps, my father firmly believed in education through pain, so he pulled no punches. You should know that I don’t intend to pull my punches either.” The second she finished speaking, she leapt at him. Her bokken arced through the air in a brutal overhead strike.

  Like any kid, Steven had fought his friends with sticks, pretending they were light sabers, but he had no formal training at all. All the fighting he’d done in the past few weeks, however, had done a fair job in training him to avoid attacks, and it had honed his senses. He didn’t want to get a broken bone. And he didn’t want to lose Mouse. He needed every single one of his warriors.

  Steven shot forward, bringing his sword up and canting the blade, hoping to divert the blow. But Mouse was ready. She’d anticipated his response and altered her attack in an eyeblink. She shot right, whipping the blade around in a tight arc, then lunging in, thrusting with the tip of the wooden practice sword. She was fast—deadly fast—and the blunt tip smashed into his gut, just under his diaphragm. A bright jag of pain radiated out from the impact point as the air in his lungs vanished.

  He wheezed and wanted to double over, but he fought his natural instincts. He wasn’t about to give up. If he dropped his guard, even for a moment, Mouse would beat him senseless. So instead he danced back into the weeds, buying time as he struggled to regain his breath.

  She rushed forward, relentless. “My father, when he was alive that is, always told me that with western swords, the point kills but the edge wounds. Katanas are a slashing weapon. Maybe the Japanese didn’t necessarily want to slay their opponents, only wound them. That’s been my fucking life, Steven, walking around wounded but never slain.”

  She feinted to the right. Steven saw it. But this time he didn’t fall for it. Instead, when she swung from the left, he was able to beat her blow away. Clack! The thrum of their swords clashing reverberated through his body. He stepped back, his head whirling. He managed to get a breath in. Instead of attacking, he retreated once more.

  “Mouse, I don’t blame you for your doubts. I’m not sure I would join my side either if I were in your shoes. But we’ve survived this far. We got you away from Mulk. We nearly killed Judith, and we did kill at least three of Mulk’s wives.”

  “Blah, blah, blah,” Mouse spat. “I’ve heard all of that before. But can you beat me? My father also told me that fighting with the katana is a dance in one move. It takes one stroke to cripple your opponent. I’m coming for you now. Will you survive this dance?”

  She ran toward him, a slender figure in ivory-colored robes, her sword gripped in both hands. She let out a cry.

  Steven held his blade in his right hand, waiting for her to come.

  She was far better at this game than he was, that much was painfully clear, which was why she’d claimed the Slayer Blade as her weapon of choice.

  He dropped his sword.

  That determination in the blonde’s eyes turned into hate, fury even. “Wrong choice, fucker. I’m not going to show you mercy. I’m going to break your fucking skull open.”

  Steven didn’t have much Animus left, but he channeled the little he did have into SerpentGrace once again. Faster than fast, he shot in low, lashing out with his hands. She brought the sword screaming toward him, but he grabbed at her wrists. And then with a lethal agility he spun, using her pinned arms and frantic momentum to drag her across his hips as he flipped her high into the air. It was a judo move called O-goshi, which Aria had taught him, and holy shit did it work like a charm. She thudded down into the weeds, and if she’d been human, that would’ve been game over.

  Despite her current form, though, Mouse was far from human. She was up in a second, her feet fueled by her own SerpentGrace ability as she charged once more.

  But he knew she was going to do that. And he met her charge head-on with a rush of his own. He ran smack into her, dropping his shoulder as they collided. He was bigger, and probably a little more desperate than she was. She bounced off him like a rag doll. But not before he plucked the sword from her hand. He flung it away with a flick of his wrist then sped over to her in a blur.

  Once more she leapt to her feet, and damn if she didn’t come up swinging with her fists. But in this, Steven had the advantage. Maybe he couldn’t take her in a duel with fucking katanas—at least not yet—but he’d been spending a whole lot of time with Aria on his hand-to-hand abilities. And that, combined with his sheer size and strength, gave him the edge. He diverted a jab, bolted left, then shot in low. In a blink he was behind her. He wrapped his arms around her in a bone-breaking bear hug, holding her tight against his chest.

  “I have you,” Steven said, pressing her arms down against her sides even as she struggled uselessly. “I have you. Call this me winning, or call me a cheater for using SerpentGrace, but I have you, Melissa. I have you, and I don’t want to let go of you. Will you let me hold you?”

  She struggled for another second, but then, once it was painfully clear she wouldn’t be able to break free, she simply collapsed in his arms. She went limp. He held her while she sobbed. There was a lifetime of pain in her. Pain from losing her parents. From having to marry Mulk. From her alcoholism and the sheer despair of being part of an Escort that she wouldn’t have chosen for herself. She’d become the spoils of war, a thing to be owned, and not a person.

  Carefully, he turned her around and embraced her, hard at first, until it was clear their fight was over. Her face was pressed into his chest, and her body shook from her sobs. He just let her cry, holding her gently, with as much love and tenderness as he could muster. She was a troubled woman. Oh well. The world was a troubling place, bad enough for humans, but even worse for Dragonsouls.

  Finally, her tears subsided, and she pushed away from him. This time, he let her go. Mouse sniffled and swiped at her nose, eyeing him through red-rimmed eyes. The grasses around them were trampled.

  “You know what my father’s greatest lesson was?” she asked.

  Steven shook his head, never taking his eyes off her. “Tell me.”

  She turned. “He said, ‘Opening yourself up for an attack can invite death, but it can also bring victory.’ It’s what you did, Steven. You dropped your sword. And when you could’ve ended the fight by hitting me with the sword you took from me, you hugged me.”

  “I did.” Steven grinned. “Yeah, I did all that.”

  “And you fucking cheated,” she accused, squinting.

  Steven clenched his jaws. “I won’t play fair. I won’t lose. I’m going to kill Mulk, and then you and I are going to kill the Dragonsoul Prime who murdered your parents. This isn’t a game, Mouse. I’m not playing, and I’ll use every weapon in my arsenal to win—even if it means bending rules or breaking them entirely.”

  “You called me Melissa,” she whispered. “You held me and called me Melissa.”

  “What do you want to be called?” he asked her. “Tell me. Do you want to be Mouse or do you want to be Melissa? Fuck, we could even go with Mel. Who do you want to be?”

  All the fight was out of her eyes. Only a sad confusion remained. “I don’t know. I’ve wanted to be free all my life, and now that I am, I don’t know who I am.”

  “I understand,” Steven said. “Three weeks ago, I was human. Now? I’m not. I was given everything I’ve ever wanted … money, girlfriends, a purpose, and yeah, it was hard, especially when the money was stripped away. But I made a decision. No matter what, I’m Steven Drokharis. I’ll never be Steven Whipp again. And I’m glad. I’m going to live the rest of my life as Steven Drokharis, and goddammit, I’m not going to look back. And like I said, I’m not going to lose.”

  Mouse held herself, arms across her chest. “If I open myself up to you, Steven, it feels like I’m inviting in death …”

  He nodded but didn’t speak. He’d let her finish her thought.

  “But really,” she continued, “it just might grant me a victory I’ve never thought possible.”

  Steven smiled. “Not just a victory for you, but a victory for us all.”

  The petite blonde slipped up to him. She was trembling, but she was also radiating courage. She took his hand and drew him in for a kiss.

  His lips brushed hers, softly, until she entwined her fingers in his hair. She actually growled. He smelled the heat of her, hot from their fight, and that sweet smell of almonds. She hungrily pushed her mouth against his, until just touching lips wasn’t enough. Her tongue found his, and the suddenness of her passion left him gasping. Lust tingled in his belly while Animus heated his chest. His cock stiffened and throbbed.

  It was a kiss that wanted to be more. For a moment, he thought he would take her there, in the golden meadow, next to their cast-off bokken.

  Mouse broke the kiss and backed up. “Oh, shit, that was intense. I’ve never felt anything like that before. Not even when Mulk and I were at our best. That was a kiss. Now that was a fucking kiss.”

  “Do you want to do more?” Steven asked.

  “Uh, fuck yes, Steven. Jesus. I’m soaking wet. I want you to grab me and fuck the shit out of me, but not yet. I … I’m not ready.” Mouse colored. “Is that okay?” She went from wanton sex kitten to a girl unsure of everything in her life.

  He didn’t make a move toward her. He only nodded. “I want you to be certain that I’m what you want. Until then, I can wait as long as you need me to. I’m not going anywhere. And I don’t want you to go anywhere either.”

  She let out a breath of relief. “Thank you for that. Thank you. You’re like no one I’ve ever met before.”

  Steven couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”

  “Can we hold hands and walk back to the house?” Mouse asked, blushing as though her request were silly.

  “Of course.”

  Just holding hands felt so innocent, especially since the taste of her was still on his tongue, however burnt from his failed attempt at breathing fire.

  Yet, he knew, he’d won her over.

  He’d done a lot of fighting in the past few weeks, but out of all the battles, his fractured sword fight with Mouse felt like it just might be the most important one yet.

  TWENTY

  Tessa stood at the window with Aria, watching Mouse and Steven walk toward the house, hands clasped, slight smiles adorning their faces. Like puppies in love, those two. It was seriously sweet.

  “Should we hide?” Tessa asked.

  “Why?” Aria was clearly mystified at the thought.

  Liam had already gone to start on lunch. He loved to cook. He said it gave him Animus, but Tessa didn’t see how that was possible. That wasn’t how the Animus game worked, was it?

  She’d cast a few spells, but the kill from yesterday and her morning loving with Aria had her running near full. After they ate, she was going to pull Steven aside to make sure he had enough.

  But first, she wanted to know about what had happened between Steven and Mouse. She was kind of disappointed when Steven shrugged and said something mysterious about Mouse showing him some fencing moves she’d learned from her father. Mouse couldn’t look her in the eye, and yet something was different about the blonde. She was quiet through lunch, which was raw vegetables, something Liam called a crudité. He’d also put out some fancy lunchmeat and cheese. The whole thing looked pretty simple, and Tessa wondered why he called it “cooking.”

  The Ronin hadn’t turned on a single burner. For Tessa, that certainly wasn’t cooking.

  The smell of the fresh bread hit her. Then she dipped a stalk of broccoli into a cream sauce, which brought out every bit of flavor in the vegetable possible. It was a creamy, crunchy experience. Wow. Who knew that raw vegetables could taste so good? Then, the bread … Holy crap. And after that came the dry cuts of various spicy meats, but the best part? The cheese. Liam said he had a line on French imports, and that the cheese came from shops in Paris. Fromageries. Those were entire stores dedicated to one thing: the wonder and glory that is cheese.

  The rest of the afternoon passed slowly—leisurely almost—which felt both wrong and amazing. Tessa made calls to check on Steven’s mother and her family. So far, everything was okay. No sign of Mulk or any of his vassals. Bud, though, continued to ghost them. What was that about?

  Then later, when Steven was alone, Tessa pulled him out of the house. She fucked his brains out in the fields, on a blanket, underneath a sky that flowed with clouds. Every time she got too hot, a cloud would cover the sun, and the minute she got a little chilly, Steven would kiss her, make love to her harder, or a cloud would drift away to let the sun shine down on her skin.

  Sex out under the sky had always been one of her favorite things in the world. Her mind would drift to all of the countless people who had enjoyed each other out in the open on the Earth. That was at least a hundred thousand years of screwing. She felt connected to all those people, just as she felt connected to Steven.

  When he finished inside of her, both of their skin glowing and sweating, she gripped his hips. “Stay in me,” she whispered.

  “Gladly.”

  “This is nice,” she murmured, “just the two of us. I love Aria, don’t get me wrong, but being alone with you feels special. I love you, Steven. I love you like I’ve loved no one else ever. It’s kind of scary for me.”

  Steven kissed her ear, then nibbled playfully on the lobe. “It’s not scary for me,” he said after a time. “It’s a dream come true. And I’ll always be with you. I feel it happening as well … this … bond. It feels unbreakable.”

  “And that doesn’t freak you out any?” she asked, quirking an eyebrow.

  He paused. He was up on his elbows, keeping his weight off her so she could breathe. He was so caring and kind. “No,” he finally said. “It’s what I’ve always wanted. To love someone and have them love me back, no matter what.”

  Tessa melted. She’d known a lot of people with commitment issues, and she had a little of that. To be with someone so sure of their feelings was something amazing to witness.

  Eventually, they napped, falling asleep right there under the shining sun. Once they woke up, she headed off to read over the Drokharis Grimoire, just as she’d done a thousand times before. There were more than just spells in there—there were histories. Lore. Poetry. It felt like reading Tolkien, except this fantasy was all real, and all hers. That night, Liam barbecued steaks on his grill along with whole bulbs of garlic and Brussels sprouts. He even had a deep-fat fryer where he fried up potato strips. Toss in a salad and thick potato rolls, sweet and fluffy, it was the perfect meal.

  “Well, we’re certainly not going to starve,” Tessa said, patting her swollen stomach once they’d finished. Aria and Mouse agreed from their seats at his huge wooden dining room table. Steven, though, sat with the grimoire on his lap, reading a section over and over. He touched the mysterious blank space. There should’ve been words there, but there weren’t.

  Liam led them outside to a bonfire, ready to burn, surrounded by comfortable folding chairs. Once lit, the fire sent sparks up into the dark and cold sky. Stars washed over the heavens. And there, shining down on them, was the Draco constellation, so important for their adventures.

  On a little cart, Liam had provided graham crackers, European chocolate bars, and a bagful of good ol’-fashioned marshmallows.

  “S’mores!” Tessa squealed.

  Firelight painted Aria’s frown. “What is this s’more dish you speak of?”

  Mouse rolled her eyes. “It’s not really a dish. It’s like a dessert. S’more is short for give me some more. You’ll see why. Even I like s’mores, and I mostly drink booze.” She paused, lips pursed into a thin line, and glanced at Steven. “Or I did.”

  “Give-me-some-mores?” Aria asked. “It sounds very American.”

  “Totally. Like apple pie,” Steven said. He was already extending his roasting fork.

  “Fancy,” Tessa said. “We generally used coat hangers. Like we did with the hot dogs on the first night of our run.”

  They had to teach Aria to roast her marshmallows because she kept burning them to a lump of smoldering char. “This seems like a lot of work. If I were in India, we would have servants do this for us.”

  “And that would take out all the fun!” Tessa showed the Indian woman how to sandwich the marshmallow and a single strip of chocolate between two graham crackers.

  Aria took a tentative bite. Then she ate three s’mores in quick succession. “I would like some more.”

  They all laughed.