Chapter 37: Lana

"N o," Ash says mildly after I move my knight closer to his queen.

We're playing chess in what must be his main study, judging by the lived-in feel of it. The chess set is a thing of beauty, made out of the same black metal as the swords he gifted me, the pieces themselves carved out of black and white pearl.

"You're not thinking ahead." His voice and body are relaxed after the throne room rendezvous, but the way he chastises me stings my pride. "You know all the rules and you react with the most efficient move each time. But you don't see the whole picture."

The words are somewhat disheartening. "Some team leader I am," I huff, trying to hide my fears of inadequacy with sarcasm.

Ash shrugs and moves his bishop. "Making the right call in the heat of battle is what a good commander is for. Knowing where to move your soldiers to maximize their usefulness. Taking advantage of openings. Short-term strategy." He's grinning at what must be a lovestruck expression on my face. I'm a whore for praise. "Just trust the generals to plan the battle," he adds, then points to the board. "Checkmate."

"Ugh," I groan. "Why am I even bothering, you've been playing this game since it was invented."

"We're not playing for you to ever win, sweetness." He's resetting the board with a smile that he probably can't keep from being patronizing. "We're playing for you to learn something. We could however spar if you prefer?" His brow lifts in question.

I snort. "That will be over even faster than this is."

"That wouldn't be for me to win. I was observing your fight with that boy until he got the upper hand. Your moves are good, but there is more to add to your repertoire."

I blush, hating that he saw that particular incident – I wasn't at my best.

"You could have won." He correctly interprets my embarrassment. "But you held back." The last is said with a harder voice than he's used these last couple of hours.

"I know." I make the first move as my pieces are white this time. "I was just hoping until the end that it was all a joke. Or that we'd fight it out and he'd calm down." I shrug, then bite my lip, not looking away from the board, even though he hasn't made a move and there's not much to think about yet.

"Next time you find yourself in a situation like that, you do not hesitate – you go for the killing blow." I look up at him and his serious gaze. "Even if it's the Watcher," he adds.

I'm taken aback. "Daniel? He wouldn't hurt anyone. He's a healer."

"Regardless," he counters, voice steady.

" If ," I emphasize, "Daniel is suddenly possessed by a demon strong enough to do so and attacks me, I will go for an incapacitating blow."

"You will learn both," Ash decrees, and we all know his decrees are law as far as he's concerned .

As if to emphasize his words, books crash from the top row of the shelf behind him, where Puck is now curling up in their previously held lofty place.

???

"Keep your distance," Ashtaroth chides in a slow drawl. Weapons training with him has been just as fun as I imagined it would be. That is to say, not at all. Well, I do get to see him swing his greatsword around – the other greatsword – but it would have been better if it wasn't in my direction.

It's been a while since I felt like a novice in a fight. "How can I out-speed your greater reach, if you can move faster than my eyes can track even with that ginormous sword?" I grumble with ample amounts of frustration.

Ash is circling me, the giant sword held casually in one hand, like it's not taller than some people I know. He's always watching me, observing my stance and correcting my posture. My back hurts and I resist the urge to sheath my swords and pop my vertebrae back into place. We've been at this for days now. Sometimes Kevin joins me instead, but it's not often Naamah lets him leave her clutches.

Sariel and Armaros have been spending most of their time in the human realm observing Simone's family. Apparently, there are strict rules in place to prevent exposure and they can't just pop in and question them for whatever information Belial thinks they have. Still, they found time to train with me as well.

True to his word, Ashtaroth had been letting me sit in on the short briefings when the two Fallen visited home. As he predicted, those visits were often during the miserable hours of the night and not nearly interesting enough to keep me awake. I held my tongue about it stubbornly, refusing to let the smug bastard know he was right, but one such night – after a grueling afternoon of sparring and an energetic round of sex right there in the courtyard – I managed to fall asleep while walking and entangled my clothes in a candelabra, taking us both down. The candelabra, not Ash. He just carried me back to bed and promised he'd let me know what was discussed when I was awake.

"The idea is that you learn to hold your own for long enough against more powerful beings, not just soul manifestations and demonic minions." He stops in front of me and pulls up his sword to rest it over his broad shoulders.

I bite my lip to stifle a moan. Hot . Judging by the arrogant smirk on his face, he knows the effect he so effortlessly has on me.

His words fully penetrate my lust-addled brain and I frown. "Let me guess," my words are staccato and singsong. "Long enough for you to come rescue me?"

His smirk turns into a wide smile, showcasing perfect white teeth. "Precisely."

I take a step closer and rest one of my shortswords on his upper thigh, pointing towards his dick in a threat that needs no words. "I'll be pretty pissed at you if you swoop down like an evil version of a guardian angel every time I'm in a fight."

He leans forward, heedless of the sword tip pointed menacingly at his family jewels, and presses a kiss on my forehead. He's been doing that a lot these days, ever since that first kiss in the shower. Little intimacies that aren't sexual in nature. I noticed that he does it when I'm being especially ‘cute' – by his definition, at least. "You can be mad at me and still ride my cock. In fact, I may find it to be quite invigorating." I can feel his lips stretch into a smile and I growl, the sound not very threatening when compared to the deep rumbly ones he tends to produce. I can't push him away because I have a sword in each hand and he's too close for me to sheathe them.

"Misogynistic prick," I hiss at the general vicinity of his neck. Shoulders shaking with laughter, he steps back and winks at me.

"Footwork." He continues with the lesson. "Evasion. When battling someone who so greatly supersedes your physical strength, do not attempt to parry. Use that quick strategic mind of yours to find openings and destabilize your opponent. Use the terrain – as you did with the golem."

I still flush every time he compliments something, despite hearing some daily. He calls out mistakes and praises correct moves with equal generosity.

"What's the point of this, your evil lordshipness? You could turn me into a raisin with a thought, couldn't you?"

"I prefer you as a moist grape." His voice is irreverent and as beautiful as ever. Still.

"Please, do not ever use the word moist again." I shudder theatrically. "Not even you can make it sound hot."

Ash throws his head back and laughs, then sheaths his weapon. He shakes his head – either at me or at himself for finding me amusing. "When wielding ether as a weapon, you prefer air as a medium?"

I fidget, feeling like it's a trick question. "Uh, yeah. Things on fire tend to be loud. And I'm not strong enough to incinerate them like you."

He crosses his arms and looks down at me. "No penchant for torture, little lamb?"

I sheath my swords and poke him in the chest with my forefinger. "I may decide to torture you one day if you don't stop calling me that."

Wrapping a couple of his own fingers around mine, he tugs on it with a fake beatific smile. "Water," he says, bringing the conversation back on track. "There is plenty of it in my domain. Easier and more effective than wind on a strong opponent."

I pull my finger out of his grasp and stick my tongue at him. I'm mature like that. "And do what?" I ask. "Drown them?"

His eyes twinkle with a sadistic glee that would send a smart person running to the hills. I'm an idiot, though, and the sight, one I often see while he's pleasuring me, sends a pleasant pinch to my clit. He looks at the apex of my thighs as if he can see it through my clothes. Thankfully – as he's downright insatiable – he ignores it and continues with the training.

"It's hard to chase someone when there is water being forced down your nose and throat." He drags his eyes up to my face with slow reluctance, as if convincing himself not to act on the carnal urges right this moment.

His glowing amber eyes finally meet mine. "Start by summoning a ball of water in, let's say, the size of an orange."