12. CTez

12

CTez

I sat amid a bunch of vicious killers.

Which was only one reason I'd chosen a spot in the corner of the fucking mess hall as I ate dinner. My fellow mercenaries left the two other chairs at my table vacant, and that was the way I preferred it.

I noticed Cricker sitting with a small group on the other side of the room. Every now and then, he sent a resentful glance my way. He'd been to a healer to fix the slice across his cheek, but he would always bear the scar.

Keeping an eye on his buddies in case they were stupid enough to try and jump me, I mixed Nemi's bowl of sugar water. She darted off my shoulder and hovered above it, uttering the occasional happy twitter. There'd been times, yesterday, when she'd seemed like more than what she was. But today, she was just a bird.

I was quite certain I was going loco.

The dream I'd had last night continued to haunt me, despite all efforts to dismiss it. The woman had seemed so real, and so beautiful, that I'd ached for her. But the dream had been fucking contrary, refusing to obey my desires.

Why had I dreamed of controlling all those birds? My grandmother had always spoken of my issues around control, even as she'd trained me how necessary it was to survival. She'd told me the truth was in the gray zones. But I was a black-and-white kind of guy. And I certainly hadn't possessed any control over that woman.

Positioned as I was, I saw Slade coming my way. He eyed the hummingbird.

"Got a job for ya," the big shifter said.

Although none were stupid enough to try anything directly, I sensed the focus in the room shift to us. At this rate, I was destined to be the least popular merc in the entire place.

It didn't bother me. I wasn't here to be popular. I was here to get noticed. It wasn't exactly following my heart , but it was capitalizing on my strengths. I intended to use them to move rapidly up to the top levels of this organization.

Nemi returned to my shoulder as we followed Slade out, and I reflected that I'd taken the first steps to achieving that goal. Where it would get me was yet to be seen.

"Another mission?" I asked as we strode down the stone hallway.

"Sort of. Boss wants a sparring partner." The big shifter pushed through the door to the stairs, and then began to climb.

Nemi's tiny feet danced against my neck. Boss? Was he referring to his father? I'd thought he was back at the other stronghold. My curiosity warred with my instincts of self-preservation. I was good, but anyone who Slade referred to as Boss was likely to test my mettle.

My unease grew when we climbed to the uppermost level. The hall here was brightly lit, and the one room we passed with an open door revealed a huge gap along one wall, through which I saw the bright afternoon sunlight.

I was hyperaware of Slade, walking just a bit in front of me. But not so far out of alignment that he couldn't track me out of the corner of his eye. I had little doubt that he didn't trust me. Why should he? But was he threatened by me, too?

That would be bad news. Some people might go through sparring partners like I did tortilla chips. This might be Slade's way of eliminating a potential problem.

Nemi twittered softly, and I let the adrenaline flow through me. One of my first lessons with my grandmother taught me how to channel it so that it added speed and accuracy. Fear could be an effective weapon.

We paused at a closed door. Two fucking huge guys stood on each side of it, wearing the distinctive scales of Dragons.

Slade drew himself up tall before them and met their hostile stares. Clearly, no love lost between them.

For a moment, it was a standoff. Then Slade said, "He's expectin' me."

I actually heard one Dragon grind his teeth, but he opened the door and stepped aside.

The quarters we entered were lavish in the extreme, with a high ceiling, elaborate paneling, and art featured in recesses along the walls. The main living area had one side completely open to the air, and on the ledge beyond it, a group of people milled about.

Slade and I crossed half the room before a tall young man in the center of the group held up his hand, and we stopped. He was handsome in a way women would find appealing, and the air of command the man possessed marked him clearly as the One In Charge .

But the attractive woman talking to him didn't seem impressed. She had long white hair in multiple tiny braids, with shining bits of rock amid them, and her eyes glittered a weird combination of blue and crimson.

"You'll owe me for this, Victor," she said. "I have better things to do than clean up your loose ends."

Victor's eyes glittered metallic bronze. Was he a Dragon, as well as an underlord? Nemi grew very still against my neck, and I suddenly had more adrenaline to channel.

"This loose end is of importance to you as well," Victor stated. "If my Seer is right, it's an opportunity we can't ignore. And you could send one of the coven members. We just need someone who can gate them out of there in a hurry."

Seer? She had glanced toward a diminutive man standing near the wall. He looked human, if you didn't see the pointy ears or weird purple eyes. He looked like he'd rather be anywhere else. But he stiffened at her inference. "My vision was very clear," he said. And then he flinched when her features hardened into a glare. She transferred it to Victor.

"Sometimes it is less trouble to do it yourself," the woman snapped. "Your Seer better be right." She turned to the others on the ledge outside. "Let's get this show on the road, people. I have other things to do."

I watched in fascination as the four men standing out there transformed into red-scaled creatures that were Dragonlike, but not Dragons. They launched themselves off the ledge, and the three remaining men shifted to their Dragon beasts, one at a time. They each accepted a rider before taking off, with the woman mounting the final one.

As soon as they had vanished, the young man turned to us.

Slade offered a small half-bow. "As requested, sir, your new sparring partner."

Victor's eyes locked on me as he approached. To my shock, they flickered from metallic bronze, to blue, and then, to a bright orange. I'd seen a lot of weird things in this world, but I'd never seen eyes quite like that before, and they added to my adrenaline rush.

"What is he?" he asked.

"Don't know," Slade answered. "Found him in Drosfi."

"What are you?" Victor directed the question to me.

Nemi darted off my shoulder to hover around him, which pulled his gaze off me. But it also added to my angst.

"Do you want to trade twenty questions, or do you want to fight?" The dare was out before I could stop myself. Very estúpido .

But weirdly, Victor seemed to like it, rippling his gaze off Nemi to say, "Well, all secrets are revealed in time. I require distraction, and you are it." He glanced at Slade. "Hopefully he lasts longer than the last one."

Slade barked a laugh. "He will."

His endorsement surprised me, but I took Victor's words as they were intended—as a warning. The underlord walked to the wall and hit a lever. A section moved aside to reveal an assortment of mounted swords. "Pick your weapon," he said.

"I brought my own," I replied.

He quirked a brow. "I will be fighting with a sword."

"I will be fighting with knives."

He pulled a short sword from the wall and tested its balance, before leading the way back out onto the ledge.

I stripped my cloak off, leaving me in the tighter-fitting clothes I'd bought myself to replace my jeans and tee shirt—they made me stand out in this crowd.

Victor watched with interest as I coaxed Nemi onto my finger and then directed her to perch on a projecting stone.

For once, she listened to me.

Then I surveyed the area we'd be fighting. The ledge was about twenty feet wide by thirty long, paved with stones that offered a roughened, grippy surface. A good landing spot for Dragons, I surmised. Or it would have been, if the stronghold hadn't been built in the midst of a swamp.

The ledge had a roof overhead to keep out the rain, but the near-continual dampness had coated the floor and the walls with slimy moss and algae. In places, plants had managed to cling to the stones, and they were pigeonholed in a few spots along the floor itself, too.

So, tricky surface underfoot. But I was less worried about that than the fucking sword. Its solid two and a half feet gave Victor a lethal reach, so I'd have to be at my fleet-footed best to stay whole.

Slade leaned against the inner wall, clearly intending to stay and watch. As long as he kept out of it, and I was able to walk out of here, I had no problem with providing entertainment.

I strode out onto the ledge, testing the footing, bouncing on the balls of my feet. Victor swung the sword in lazy arcs as he paced a small circle at the other end. I watched him move, the way he led with his right foot, the slight lean he had in that direction.

Wouldn't mean much if that sword got to me. He handled it well, moving it as an extension of his arm.

He turned to me and crouched, sword held at the ready.

I flexed my left wrist, and the spring-loaded knife strapped to my forearm jumped to my hand. With the other, I drew the one from my waist. At eight inches long, it was the closest I had to a sword.

Everything I'd learned since becoming a realm traveler told me that location didn't matter, and neither, really, did the weapon. The species did, but unless Victor sprouted a tail and talons, his human body should move in predictable ways. What really counted was whether the wielder knew how to use whatever he brought to the table.

And from the opening move, it was clear that Victor did. His first feint almost worked. My boots slipped on the moss, and the sword's first strike missed my arm by a hair.

As I dodged and danced back, I caught the hint of disappointment in Victor's gaze. He hadn't been impressed, and neither was I.

I held up a hand and pulled off my boots, leaving me in bare feet. And then I set out to prove myself.

That blade didn't get near me again. I leaped, cartwheeled, and rolled. Used the eight incher to bind the sword hilt and keep it off me as I spun past him.

And then, there came a moment when I popped up inside the sword, and held the point of my six incher beneath his throat.

His eyes glowed orange fire at me, and heat came off his skin. Then they flashed metallic bronze, and his sword dropped.

I interpreted it as a yield and pulled my knife away.

Nemi's sharp trill of warning came a microsecond before Victor slammed the flat of his blade up the side of my head, placed his foot in between mine, and tried to sweep my feet out from under me.

He'd nearly knocked me cold, but I managed to spin away from him. I ended up with seven feet between us, glaring at him as my vision swam.

"Told you he was good," Slade said from his spot on the wall.

I was better than Victor, but I'd made a rookie error in assuming sparring meant a different set of rules. I wouldn't make that mistake again.

"Teach me some of those moves," the underlord said to me.

I couldn't teach it all to him. He was a good fighter with a sword, but using knives required something extra.

As he was in charge of my existence, however, I said, "I'll teach you what I can."

His gaze rose beyond me, and I turned, slightly, to see what he looked at. Birds. About thirty of them, perched on every tiny outcrop of stone.

Victor's gaze grew more intent as it dropped to mine. "More friends of yours?"

I shrugged, but my pulse raced as I stated, as calmly as possible, "Birds seem to like me." As if to prove my point, Nemi chirped and flew back to me, and I put her on my shoulder before picking up the cloak.

The birds above us took flight. As I turned, I scanned the ground, relaxing a little when there was no metallic gleam of feathers.

"I'd like another match tomorrow." There was no mistaking it was an order.

"I'm game," I said.

His eyes narrowed slightly, but this time they only flickered orange before returning to bronze. Something within me relaxed, just a little. Whatever caused them to glow orange, wasn't good.

Not that the expression in the bronze ones was much more reassuring. And it seemed to demand something of me. Something I was loath to offer.

But as Slade pushed himself off the wall, and the Dragon guards near the door stiffened, I knew I needed to, if I wanted to survive.

So, as if I served instead of merely working for him, I bowed, ever so slightly, and said, "Your wish is my command, my lord."

Slade's eyes narrowed as he detected the veiled sarcasm, but the underlord merely nodded in satisfaction.

Appeared I'd live, for at least the immediate future…