Anya Bast

Adam’s copper blade connected with Thomas’s in the newly built sparring chamber on the Coven grounds. Sweat trickled down his bare chest, pooled in his bellybutton. He turned, met Thomas’s blade once more. The impact reverberated up his arm and through his chest and back.

Whoosh. Clang.

It had been a year since they’d gone up against an Atrika demon who’d been trapped on Earth, away from his native Eudae. The demon had killed six witches trying to open a doorway before Thomas Monahan, head witch of the Coven, and Isabelle, sister to one of the slain, had offed him.

In the process, Isabelle and Thomas had been pulled through to Eudae. Adam had been there to see it happen, but incapable of stopping it. While Isabelle had been sent home, the demons had kept Thomas for a while. They’d cut his long hair, a source of strength for the earth witch. They’d tried to break him.

Whoosh. Clang.

The force of Thomas’s hit crashed down his arm and rattled his teeth. “Fuck, Thomas!”

Yeah, they hadn’t broken him.

Ever since that ordeal, the Coven witches had never stopped training with the copper weapons they’d used against the Atrika. The vicious demon breed were allergic to the metal, although they possessed some kind of defense against it, something that Micah, the Coven archivist and all around geek, was trying to discover and sublimate. But for now it was the only weapon the witches knew of.

The absolute only.

All of them knew the time they’d have to fight the Atrika would come again. The question was only when. Adam hoped it wasn’t in his lifetime, but he’d be ready if it was.

“Come on, Adam. Don’t hold back just cuz he’s the boss.” Jack, calling from the sidelines. “I need you to break him in for me. I’m next up, man. I’ll buy you a beer if you can beat him.”

It wasn’t so much the beer that motivated him, though he wouldn’t turn it down. It was more a desire to beat Thomas. Just because, normally, at least in sword play, he could.

He’d even quit smoking to train. Now that was dedication. His fingers still twitched for a smoke now and again, but at least now he could run a bunch of laps and not be wheezing at the end. He’d tried to stop drinking, too, but that hadn’t gone as well. Adam figured a man needed a few vices. Kept him interesting.

Adam nodded as he eyed Thomas, who adjusted his grip on the sword handle as if anticipating a renewed assault. “That’s a bet, Jack.”

Fire roared through his body, his magick tingling through him. Blue flame leapt from his fingers, curled around the handle, and shot up to the hilt. He roared and engaged.

Swoosh. Clang.

This time Adam was the one who set teeth to rattling.

“There’s the Adam we know and love,” called Jack.

Adam pivoted, renewing his attack. His blade connected with Thomas’s and he pushed him back a few steps. Grunting, sweat streaming, he pressed harder. Adam might be gifted in swordplay, but that didn’t mean Thomas was easy to beat.

Swoosh. Clang. Swoosh. Clang! Clang! Clang!

Thomas blocked and defended, but Adam had him on the run now. His muscles bunched and burned. To defeat Thomas Monahan he had to dreg up every last molecule of strength he had. His whole body flexed and sweat poured down him as he beat his opponent backward, up against the wall of the sparring chamber.

He went for the final shot, cutting upward with his blade and lightly touching Thomas in the stomach with the edge of the shiny copper weapon.

Death blow.

Panting, Thomas dropped his sword to his side in defeat.

Out of breath, Adam dropped his sword too. “Sorry, boss.” He shrugged and grinned.

Thomas regarded him through obsidian eyes and leaned over, bracing his hands on his knees. “I’m really glad you’re on our side, Adam.”

Jack bounced out into the middle of the sparring mat, obviously relishing being rested and refreshed while Thomas was panting and exerted. “Okay, my turn.”

“I don’t think so,” answered Isabelle, who’d just entered the room. She came to stand near her husband and reached up to finger the short bunch of hair at his nape. “Mira needs you to help her with Eva.”

Eva was Jack and Mira’s new baby, a rare and very protected little air witch. Mira was the most powerful air witch around and likely her daughter would be every bit as strong.

“That’s married life for you,” Adam shot with a grin.

Mira had been involved with a real gem of an asshole during her first marriage and had vowed to never marry again. It had taken Jack a while to wash the taste of that first bad marriage from her mouth, but he’d managed to do it. He and Mira had finally tied the knot after Eva had been born.

“I love it, man,” Jack answered with a grin.

Yeah, so had Adam.

“Eva’s still fussy, I bet,” Jack answered Isabelle. “Mira and Eva—we think, anyway—heard something disturbing last night. It was a cry for help, but it was brief and without detail. We don’t know who it was from or where she is. All we know was that it was a female air witch who sent it.”
Thomas grabbed a towel and wiped his face and neck. “Mira told me about that this morning. If they hear anything else, let me know right away.”

“We will.”

Isabelle wrinkled her nose. “In any case, Thomas and Adam both need showers pronto.”

“I guess training can wait, anyway,” answered Jack, dropping his sword. “It’s not like there are any Atrika loose on Earth this very second.”

The Atrika were the freight train of the demon breeds, and none of the breeds were exactly fluffy bunnies.

Adam threw his sword to the mat. “Man, don’t say that. Every time someone says something like that, it’s proved wrong.” He shook his head, remembering what they’d gone through with Erasmus Boyle. “I really don’t want that proved wrong.”

Jack held up a hand. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I’m out of here, anyway. My family is calling.” He walked over to the wall to stow his weapon.

Family. The word squeezed Adam’s chest every time, but he’d never let these guys know. He picked up his sword and walked over to put it away. “I’m out too. I’ll be in my room if anyone needs me.”

“Got a date tonight?” called Isabelle.

Adam threw a careless glance over his shoulder. “What night don’t I have a date?”

Isabelle just grinned and shook her head, leaning against Thomas and wrapping her arms around his waist, sweat and all. Now that was true love. Adam was happy that Thomas and Isabelle had found it together. Jack and Mira too.

Adam knew his shot at it had already blown by and disappeared on super charged roller skates. He’d just sat there and waved at its retreating ass. There, then gone. Like some kind of really bad—or tragic—practical joke.