Grey's Magic. Dawn Addonizio
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struck out with a quick jab, which she easily ducked. “Good speed,” she encouraged, “but don’t drop your guard,” she added as she snapped a hook at his exposed cheek. She purposely didn’t make contact, but it was enough to startle him and make him pay attention.
She went round with him until he was winded, giving him a few thumps and allowing him to make a show of coming close to hitting her. Finally she took advantage of his waning concentration and swept his leg, maneuvering him into a wrist lock as he stumbled.
Should have led with that move on Agent Derrington last night, she thought with a smirk as Thom submitted to the threat of a broken wrist. Might have saved me some sore ribs.
“It was a fine match,” she said, patting Thom on the back as he rose.
He gave her a good natured grin despite his bruises and rejoined his friends, who were gazing at her with newfound respect. The pretty young girl leaned in and said something to him, and the other visiting trainees nodded in excitement.
“Uh, Cousin Letty,” he began, looking torn between wanting to please the girl and not wanting to provoke Scarlett, “they want to see ya fight the swords. With one of the older warriors,” he added quickly.
Scarlett laughed, resisting the urge to tease him again in front of his friends. “Come join me with a sword, Quin,” she called, tipping her chin in a beckoning motion.
She felt limber and warmed up after sparring with Thom, and she wanted to keep going. Physical distraction was exactly what she needed today.
“Why is it always me ya choose to show up in front of an audience?” Quinlan jibed as he strode over to the weapons rack and grabbed a couple of practice blades. His meaty, tattooed fists tested them for heft and balance, and then he tossed one to Scarlett.
“You know it’s only because I love you, cousin,” she replied, snatching the blade deftly out of the air. “And perhaps you’ll beat me this time.”
Quin snorted and shook his shaggy orange head. “Perhaps with an axe. But with a sword? That hasn’t happened in nigh over a hundred years.”
“Maybe your skill has surpassed mine since last we tested it,” Scarlett replied with a shrug.
“Remember that, lads an’ lasses,” Aedan called to their young audience from an adjacent sparring ring. “A wise warrior envisions victory without allowin’ overconfidence ta cloud her judgment.” The aged veteran winked at Scarlett as he deflected a swing from his opponent’s sickle.
She grinned at him as she adjusted her grip on her practice blade and settled into a relaxed stance a sword’s length from Quin.
“I don’t think wise platitudes are going to aid me against ya today,” Quin murmured as he struck an opening thrust.
She intercepted it and pulsed her blade against his to push it out of the way. “Oh no? I always find Aedan’s advice to be sage and helpful.”
She smiled faintly, refusing to be distracted as she adjusted her field of vision to take in Quinlan’s massive frame, trying to anticipate his next move.
He feinted a downward cut to open up her guard so he could strike her from the side. His thrusts were swift and powerful, but she wasn’t fooled. Her blade met his with a ringing clash as she pivoted to step behind him.
Quin rushed to regain his fighting distance, barely managing to deflect her answering attack, his ribs receiving a hard jab from her sword pommel for his trouble. He winced and their young audience sucked in a collective breath. Scarlett was so fiercely focused, she barely heard them.
“That’s what I mean. Ya have that look in your eye today, Letty—the one that says no one who joins ya in the ring is going to leave unscathed.”
She frowned at him, keeping her footwork nimble in case he was trying to distract her for his next attack. “And just what do you mean by that? Are you saying I’m being too hard on you, Quin?”
She saw an opening and sent a quick, playful jab toward his chest. It wasn’t meant to connect, merely to illustrate his carelessness. He leapt back with a rueful laugh, shaking his head as he rejoined her.
“That wasn’t too rough for you, was it?” she whispered with a smirk.
“Ya know I wouldn’t suggest ya downplay your combat skills for anyone,” he chided softly. “All I’m saying is that I can always tell when something’s on your mind.”
He twisted his wrists and his sword swept around in a lightning fast arc, almost catching her off guard. She met his blade just before it struck her shoulder, her arms straining as she bound its momentum with her own in a resounding clash of metal against metal.
Knowing she was no match for his brute strength, she sidestepped and allowed her muscles to go slack. His sword flew downward, missing her by a hair, and she jabbed him angrily in the ribs with her pommel again.
She glared at him as they regained their distance and faced each other once more.
“I’m not trying to piss ya off, Letty,” Quin said with a sigh. “I’m telling ya I know something’s wrong and I wish ya’d tell me what it is. Every so often ya show up here with that steely glint in your eye, your finger bloody like ya’ve been worrying it with your teeth,” he tilted his head toward her hands where they gripped her sword. “And ya leave everyone ya spar with a bit more bruised than usual.”
He glanced meaningfully down at his ribs and she gave him an apologetic grimace. Her last jab had been vicious and angry, aimed at the spot where she’d hit him before. It wasn’t in the spirit of a practice match, especially one with weapons.
Even if he’d been distracting her with observations she didn’t care to hear.
She had never imagined her emotions were so transparent to him. It made her uncomfortable to think someone else might have noticed.
“I’m sorry, Quin,” she replied softly. “My lack of control was careless.”
She sliced at him in a quick, threatening attack, anticipating his counter thrust and using its power to push her blade back in the opposite direction. Her sweeping upward circle landed the blunt edge against the pulsing vein in his neck.
There was no doubt it would have been a deadly strike in a real fight, and Quin smiled wanly. “I believe the match is yours as usual, cousin.”
Thom and his friends cheered, and Quin bowed to her as he stepped back. “Shall we go again?” he offered.
Normally she would have accepted, but her mood for sparring had soured. “I think I’m done for the day.”
He frowned as he followed her out of the ring. “What I said wasn’t meant to upset ya, Letty,” he told her quietly. “It’s something I’ve noticed for years, but I’ve seen it in ya more often of late. I just wanted ya to know that I’m here if ya need to talk about anything.”
Scarlett closed her eyes for a moment and then turned to face him. “I appreciate your concern, Quin. But it’s probably just the stress from Doyle’s human wedding ceremony.”
He arched an orange brow at her. “Ya expect me to believe ya’re all narky from having to put on a pretty dress and get your hair done?”
Scarlett couldn’t help but laugh, though it was partially true. “As if that wouldn’t make you narky?”
Quin snorted, his gray eyes sparkling with humor. “I dunno. I think I might quite like having a bonnie lass fuss over me with a comb. And as for wearing a skirt, my Scottish friends seem to find them downright comfy.”
Scarlett gave him a playful shove and he grabbed her hand, pulling a small bag of faerie dust from his pocket and sprinkling some over her finger where she’d started to pick at it again.
“Why don’t ya tell me what’s really botherin’ ya?” he suggested as he released her.
She