Halflings (22 page)

He studied her in that way he had; half curiosity, half strategy, and all question. He draped a hand across one handlebar, then hooked his foot on a chrome foot peg. “Show me what you mean,” he said, but there was a strange sound in his voice, something suggesting understanding was only a breath away.

“How should I show you?”

Raven’s tongue darted out and licked his lips as he stood. “Close your eyes.”

She shrugged, obeyed.
Why argue now?

He was straddling the bike and she was close. Close enough for him to lean over and kiss her. Is that what he intended to do? When his shadow slowly shifted across her face, she knew it was. Before his lips met hers, her hand flew between them.

“That’s pretty good,” he said. “Open your eyes.” Inches apart, he dropped the kiss onto the palm of her hand.

She stood breathless and confused. What had his little stunt proven?

“Come on.” He tossed his leg off the bike and tugged her away from the motorcycle. As he dragged her into the woods, he said, “I want you to show me what you can really do.”

Strips of sunlight slashed across the pine-covered ground where they stopped in a clearing. Alive with chatter, the woods closed in around them like a cotton cocoon.

In the distance, a waterfall rushed a continual stream over the rocky mountainside and deposited water and bubbles into a pool below. Rich vegetation glowed green, lush from the fall’s constant spray. She really tried to focus on the soothing nest it created, but all she could think of was the kiss she narrowly escaped.
Raven’s
kiss. She shouldn’t be here. She should be with Mace. But wasn’t it Raven who’d seen through her artist’s mask? He’d seen her for the fraud she was and liked her anyway. She was no artist, just a good copier. The heart of the painting really had laid in the significance of the broken pot, and in some small way, that did make her an artist, not just an imitator. But she hadn’t known until … Raven saw it.

Mace had looked at the painting and saw possibilities. To him, the gate was an invitation.

Mace was her invitation. He embraced her destiny, saw her as a future warrior, and swore to see her through.

And that made Raven her broken pot. The one who embraced the person she was right now. Odds were, he’d likely stand beside her and die to protect her as well, if she gave him the chance.

Which one understands the real me?
She bit the inside of her cheek.

Raven leaned against a pine tree, his words pulling her from her thoughts. “What’s Mace been teaching you?”

“What do you mean?” She kicked at a clump of dirt and hoped he hadn’t been reading her mind.

“About self preservation? Come on, I know he’s not stupid enough to spend all this time with you but not show you how to fight or at least how to defend yourself.”

She frowned. She’d spent quite a bit of time with Mace, but the subject had never come up.

He dragged his weight from the tree. “Nikki, these are eternal enemies. Surely he’s preparing you.”

She shook her head, a bit of panic settling over her. Were she and Mace playing infatuated teenager games when she should be in training for this realm-crossing war?

“Oh, I get it.” He stepped closer. “He has to be your knight in shining armor.” Raven reached up and tugged on a branch. “Pathetic. Well, don’t send a boy to do a man’s job. It’s time for you to learn.” When the branch snapped, it flung bits of bark in all directions. He dusted the mess from his hands and raised his fists.

Fear jumped in her stomach but she slowly slid into a fighting position. “Wha-what are we doing?”

He winked. “Come after me. Or are you scared?”

She pulled two pencils from her jacket pocket and twisted them into her hair. “Am I scared? Are you
kidding
? You’re half angel. Of course I’m scared.”

“Also half man, which means I have weaknesses.” He winked again, and the motion was accompanied by a long, slow perusal of her from head to toe. “So use them against me.”

“Stop it,” she ordered. Raven was always a little over-the-top with his flirting, but the way his gaze trailed over her and lingered here and there was way too bold, even for him.

“Make me.” His eyes passed over her again with painful slowness. “Come on, Nikki, don’t prove me right.”

“Right about what?” Her fists opened into flat hands, war hands.

“That you’re a sissy.”

She ran for him, determined to teach him good manners the hard way. Two leaps and they were face-to-face, fighting distance apart. But she stopped, catching herself. This was crazy.
He wanted to fight her? He actually wanted her to attack him? But it was okay, right? Raven wouldn’t
hurt
her.

Would he?

He stiffened. “Come on.”

Distributing her weight, she rolled onto the ball of her back foot, then threw a front kick to his stomach.

He caught it easily, moving in a flash. While he held her foot, she used his grab as a springboard and kicked toward his face with her other foot. The jumping front kick landed in his other hand. With one smooth sweep, he flipped her up and over. She landed on her stomach with a thud.

“Sorry,” he said, and gently used the toe of his boot against her hip to coax her onto her back. But there was a distinct laugh in his voice when he reached to draw her to her feet. “Now it’s my turn. You defend.”

She felt her blood drain.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take it easy.” He intertwined his fingers and straightened his arms so that every knuckle in his hands popped. When he rushed toward her, she cowered.

“No,” he yelled, and skidded to a stop. “If you’re afraid to take a hit, I’ve already beaten you.”

She stiffened, slid her front leg into a cat stance, set her jaw, and waited. The punch came at her, but slowed almost to a halt as it approached. Reaching, she grabbed the fist inches from her.

A strange recognition flittered across his face, like the one he’d had when she said she could feel his excitement on the bike. “Good,” he said.

“What did I do?” She heaved between breaths, the world around still moving at a sluggish pace.

“You stopped me.”

“Everything slowed down. Like how everything slows in a wreck.”

“Cool, huh?” With a flick of his head, he tossed hair from his eyes.

“Did you do that?” she whispered.

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Can you do that anytime?”

“Pretty much. What you saw is what we always see, Nikki. Everything moves at a slower speed for us. And when we try, we can stretch the immediate atmosphere. Sometimes, humans are aware of it — like in the wrecks you mentioned. Most often, that’s where humans become aware of the supernatural at work around them, though they seem to remain clueless as to what it is. Not that I’d expect your brains to get it: we can move so fast, the molecules disappear. It’s also where you get the term déjà vu.”

“No, I read about that. It has to do with the brain misfiring.”

“Really?” Raven said.

She nodded. A flash, and she frowned.

“How about that time?” he asked.

“Whoa.” Again, the immediate seconds stretched.

“How about that time?” he repeated.

She shook her head. “Stop it. That’s freaky.” She reached behind her for something, anything to steady her balance. Everything seemed off, her judgment included. Suddenly she knew coming to Arkansas with Raven had been a grave mistake.

And yet …

He was training her. How could she find fault in that? He wanted to give her something Mace had never offered. Self preservation.

“I can relive any moment I’ve experienced.” His eyes dropped to her lips. “Again and again and again.”

She swallowed the newly formed lump in her throat. “I suppose that’s faster than the speed of light?” she asked, training her thoughts on the lesson. Sensei Coble taught her to always rely on her training.

“Uh, yeah.”

“Amazing.” She dropped her hands. “There’s no way I can win against a supernatural foe.”

“Wrong,” he corrected. “First, all foes won’t be supernatural. You’re being hunted, Nikki. And not just by hell’s army. Human armies as well. Flesh and blood. Bone and joint. They share your weaknesses, but what they don’t have is your advantage.”

“What’s my advantage?”

“They’re never going to expect
you
to hunt
them
.”

She had to admit it made sense. If she hadn’t been a fighter, she’d have never survived this long. “Hmm. Predator becomes the prey?”

“Exactly.” He stepped away from her. “Or you can continue being a damsel in distress and let Mace protect you.” He shrugged one shoulder. “But wouldn’t you rather be your own hero?”

“Yes,” she said, and as quickly as she answered, she formed a plan. When he dropped his hands, she advanced. Faking a spinning crescent kick, she landed a roundhouse kick to his jaw.

His head barely moved from the jolt. “Nice, but not enough power to stop me. Where was your target?”

She pulled a breath and reached to touch his right jaw.

He grabbed her hand. “No. Not here.” He slung her hand to the opposite cheek. “
Here
.”

“I should have kicked the other side of your face?” she asked.

“No! You should have driven through my jaw. Your target is always six inches past the point of contact.” Roughly, he dragged her hand to his chin. “If you’re trying to punch me here, where should your target be?”

Before she could answer, he put her hand to the back of his neck. “Here, Nikki.” He tapped her fingers against his neckline, hot from the sun’s rays and the fight. “Six inches past. Drive through. You get it?”

“I get it.”

He threw her hand down. “Now do it.”

She punched and connected soundly with his rock-hard stomach. “Wow.” The power behind the strike shocked her.

He smiled.

“In self-defense, they teach girls to strike and run.” Suddenly, Raven disappeared.

She spun, looking for him.

From her right side, she felt him grab her loose T-shirt, twist, and toss her to the ground. “If you’re going to insist on being a victim, please continue to dress like one. It makes my job so much easier.” His voice bounded off a tree behind her, and she jumped, turning to it.

“What’s wrong with strike and run?” she asked, twirling the hem of her T into a knot, lessening his ability to grab.

“You don’t have that luxury anymore. You have to strike and kill because you can’t outrun us.”

When he appeared before her, she attempted a ridge hand to his temple, but grabbed only air. “And we’ll never give up.” He threw his fist into a tree beside her and bark rained around her head.

Alarm fought for control of her mind, but she fought back. Raven was
helping
her, not trying to
hurt
her.

“Mace said he didn’t think there were Halflings fighting on the enemy’s side.”

“He’s wrong. Poor little naïve Mace. He’s dead wrong.”

“Glad you’re more enlightened,” she said when he reappeared at her feet, and for a fleeting moment she gazed right into his soul. What she saw frightened her. When she spoke, the words were distant. “Maybe you don’t know which side you’re on.”

It stopped him cold. Dust settled around them.

This was her chance. She lunged, swept his leg, and threw him to the ground. He landed flat on his back. Nikki dropped to her knees. Hovering above him, she smiled, a hand planted on each side of his head. “Used your weakness.”

Raven’s midnight-blue eyes changed to something needful. He closed his fingers around her arms and pulled her closer. “I’m a good teacher.”

“I’m a better student,” she countered. She cast a glance at his strong fingers wrapped tightly above her elbows, which sent waves of syrupy heat into her skin. “You should let me go.”

“Your lesson isn’t over yet,” Raven said. His hair fell away from his face, highlighting the contours of his cheekbones, his strong jaw, his bow-shaped lips. People always looked different when flat on their backs, and it was doubly true now. Everything beautiful about Raven seemed magnified by his vulnerable posture.

She tried to return her focus to the fight. “I … I can’t beat you,” she said, and wondered on just how many levels she meant the comment. “It’s impossible. You can’t be hurt, at least not by me and my bare hands.”

“I can, Nikki.” His fingers glided down her arm and clasped her wrist with such tenderness, it shocked her. He dragged her hand to the center of his chest and pressed.

Beneath his shirt his heart pounded, synchronized to the beat of her own. Something so sad, so human entered his gaze. A longing she — and she alone — was able to fill. For a brief moment she
wanted
to kiss him, if for no other reason than to stop his pain. Danger flashed like a warning sign in her mind, but there was something so beautiful about his desire to protect her.
No
, she corrected.
About his desire to teach her to protect herself.
Why hadn’t Mace done that? Why didn’t he want her to be able to defend herself?

As she bent closer, his hand moved to the back of her head. Pulling the pencils from their place sent a wave of hair floating around her.
Another bad habit I’ll have to break.
She tucked it back with the hand not planted on Raven’s chest. Dark-blue eyes scanned every feature of her face, burning a trail wherever they lingered. His gaze flickered as he whispered to her. “Don’t forget, I’m the enemy.”