She nodded, not trusting her voice. His scent surrounded her. The strongest waves of pain stopped, but she still felt a dull ache. She also felt ... the wonder of his touch. She felt his skin wherever he pressed against her.
"You're doing good. This is the way you need to hold it."
They stood like that for several long seconds. His firm form pressed again her, his arm encircling her, the sword in her hand.
For a second she thought she heard his hum, the powerful hypnotizing sound meant to weaken women.
"Now what?" she bit out, fighting the feeling of being lured, of being seduced.
He inhaled sharply and stepped back. "Now I get my sword and show you some moves." His voice sounded extra low.
He shifted quickly to reach for his sword. He moved to stand right beside her. His dark blue gaze turned and he looked at her. She saw the heat in his eyes, she saw the desire. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for that to happen."
She looked away quickly and while part of her wanted to call him on it, she simply stood there and waited for him to show her the next move. And hoped it only involved sword fighting and not seduction.
Chapter Thirty
She spent the next thirty minutes following his moves. Over and over. Swiping the sword this way, then that. He barked out commands. Not really in a rude way, but as if this was the way he'd been taught. She couldn't help but imagine a younger Lucas taking stern directions from his grandfather.
"Not like that," he said. "Keep the sword pointing out to where your opponent will be. And don't look down. Now look where you're holding your weight. Put your weight into your moves."
Over and over again, they did it.
It was actually grueling. The sun felt hot on her skin, the air thick. Her leg muscles from all the partial squats and forward thrusts burned. She didn't complain. Not once. She'd take this to him touching her.
"That's good," he said, doing the same moves beside her. "You're doing it."
Oh my. You are a natural.
Out in the open, she actually heard the voice before she felt the spirit's cold. The spirit stood to Kylie's left, holding her own sword, following Lucas's direction to a tee.
"What are you doing?" Lucas asked. "Shift your body weight back and then forward."
Kylie ignored Lucas, but continued to move-her focus now on the spirit's weapon and not following his directions.
Comparing the swords, she realized the spirit's sword wasn't really like the one glowing in Kylie's hands. The ghost's blade was more slender and tapered. And the hilt, as Lucas called the handle, was longer.
What kind of sword do you have? Kylie asked the spirit, thinking maybe if she could get her to open up, she might give Kylie something to help send her away.
A bastard sword. I stole it from a bastard. She laughed, but she didn't miss a step in her moves. Her form looked practiced.
Whoever she was, her skills with the sword matched, if not surpassed, Lucas's.
I'm serious. Kylie missed a step.
"You okay?" Lucas asked and she felt him studying her.
"Yeah," Kylie answered, but continued to focus on the spirit. She needed to get this figured out. The sooner the ghost was gone, the sooner she could work on her other quests.
Who is it you want me to kill? she asked, and kept moving, but obviously not well enough because Lucas had stopped moving and was now just staring at her.
"Do you want to take a break?" he asked.
Who is it? Kylie demanded, and stopped moving.
The spirit stopped her motions and looked at Lucas. Listen to this guy. He's a good teacher. With a little practice you'll be ready. You'll kill my enemy and then I'll leave you be and take my place in hell.Hell? Kylie's breath hitched. She hadn't ever dealt with a spirit heading to hell. She couldn't help but hope the ghost was wrong. But knowing what she knew, all the people the spirit had claimed to have killed, she might be hell bound.
The spirit faded.
Kylie let out a frustrated puff of air and then wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her left hand. Again she got the distinct feeling that this spirit was somehow connected to her receiving the sword.
But what could that mean? Was Kylie actually supposed to do the ghost's bidding, and kill someone for her?
The thought of taking a life sent a shiver down Kylie's spine. Just another reason she questioned her ability to be some holy warrior.
"You need some water?" Lucas asked.
She looked at him. His skin, already golden from the sun, glistened with heat. The front of his T-shirt clung to his upper torso, showing off his chest even more. Sweat always did look good on him.
She glanced down at the sword. "Is there such a thing as a bastard sword?" she asked, focusing on the ghost and not wanting to think about how good he looked.
"Yeah, why?" He moved to his bag and pulled out two bottles of water. He handed her one. His hand brushed against hers. She pulled her hand back, and he must have noticed her suddenness because he frowned.
"Nothing," she said, knowing he wouldn't want to know. He didn't like ghosts. But he went into the cemetery for me, to help me. Even when at the time I was a vampire.
She put the sword down and watched it lose the golden hue.
"That's so strange," he said.
"Yeah." The bottle he'd handed her chilled the inside of her palm. She unscrewed the top and took a long sip.
They drank without talking, her mind on the ghost one second and on how good Lucas looked the next.
"You ready to spar?" he asked.
She looked at his sword and the one resting on the towel. Real weapons that could kill. A slip of a wrist and someone could be seriously injured. "I don't think so."
"Not with these. You're not ready for that." He pointed back to the towel and the wooden swords.
"With those."
She wanted to say no, but then realized the sooner she learned to fight, the sooner she wouldn't have to meet Lucas and be reminded of all she'd lost. Screwing the top on the water, she dropped it beside her sword and then picked up one of the wooden weapons. "Let's go at it."
* * *
Twenty minutes later, they were finally doing just that. Going at it. Kylie finally started to understand how to do this. Using the moves he'd taught her earlier, she was able to block most of his offenses. Most of them, but not all.
Three times he found his way around her sword and touched her chest with the wooden edge. "Two points for the teacher," he'd said each time. Then they'd go back swinging, swiping, moving back, forth, and sometimes in circles. The sound of their wooden blades clashing rang in her ears. Sweat poureddown her brow again, but she ignored it, determined to earn a few points of her own.