As it had on that bright summer day under Keegan’s sword, the head thudded on the ground and rolled.
“Shit! Shit! Girl, you go!”
Breen merely tossed her hair back, sent a disdainful stare into Keegan’s eyes. “I didn’t take time off or go on holiday.”
“Feel a little sick.”
She turned to see Marco bent over, hands on knees.
“Focus!” Keegan ordered, but she flicked her fingers at him.
“It’s not real, Marco. It’s like CGI.”
He lifted his head, breathing slow. “Like CGI. I can handle that.”
“It will be real,” Keegan murmured. “Soon enough.”
“I’m well aware, and I’m here to train. But he needs time to adjust. You’ll give him time, or I’m done for the day.”
She thought she heard a snicker from Harken as Keegan angled his head at her.
“Come back altogether full of yourself, haven’t you? All right then, take on two.”
Rather than conjure another foe, Keegan brought back the first, twinned him. When they rushed her, she shot a stream of fire at the one on the left, impaled the one on the right.
“Three-zip, Breen Kelly!” Marco made wild crowd noises.
“I trained every damn day. You’re not the only one who can conjure wraiths.” And since she’d anticipated something exactly like this, she’d already done just that, had it—to her way of thinking—on hold.
She released it, a burly, bearded, seven-foot Were. “Now you defend!”
It transformed into a snarling, towering bear as it charged Keegan.
“She made a bear!” she heard Marco shout. “Breen made a bear!”
Keegan drew his sword, pivoted. And didn’t quite evade the edge of slicing claws. But he leaped aside, struck out with his blade. As the bear screamed in pain and rage, began the next charge, Keegan opened the ground under him.
And sent fire after it.
Annoyance lost to fascination as Breen studied the mucky mess in the crater. “I don’t know that one. Show me.”
“Later.”
“You’ll be filling that hole, brother, or I’ll be helping Breen bloody your arse.”
Keegan just shrugged at Harken, used two hands and brought the earth back to level ground.
“I want to try that. Let me—”
“Later. Defend.”
She managed to block Keegan’s strike, but her arm sang all the way to her shoulder. She set her teeth as they eyed each other over the vibrating steel.
“You’ve improved.”
“I trained every damn day.”
He hooked a foot around hers, skewed her balance, and before she could regain it, impaled her. “And still you’re dead.”
Annoyed, she stepped back, set again. She feinted a strike with her sword, used her left hand and her power to shove a blast of air. It knocked him back, and down. She sent fire after it, turning it to water before it struck.
“That makes two of us.”
Something lit in those gorgeous eyes of his, she noted, but couldn’t tell if it was admiration or the spark of competition.
“Learned some tricks on your own, I see.” He got to his feet. “Mind your fire, as I’d sooner not go up in flames.”
“It harms no living thing—I bespelled it like the swords. You’ll get wet, but you won’t burn.”
“Well then.” He shoved a hand through his dripping hair. “Defend.”
They clashed, sword and smoke, fire and fists.
In the paddock, Harken pulled Morena in for a kiss. “I’ve cows to milk.”
As Harken wandered off, Marco pulled himself into the saddle, still craning his neck to watch the action.
He watched fire spew from Breen’s fingers, collide with a stream from Keegan’s, and burst into a flood of water. Swords sliced through it.
“Okay, I’m saying it right out loud,” he decided. “This is getting me hot. Is it like foreplay with them?”
“Sure and that may be a part of it. She’s worked hard, and it shows. Still, I can tell you he holds back. Well now, we’ll leave them to it and go have ourselves some ale and gingerbread.”
Morena spread her wings and rose up, and her hawk with her. “Along with me now, Marco. Blue knows the way home.”
Breen heard them leave, ignored them. She already hurt. The swords didn’t cut, but they sure as hell packed a sting. And every muscle in her body wanted to weep after ten minutes of sparring with him.
The fire wouldn’t burn, but God, her lungs did. And since he’d used her own trick with the fire to water （she’d thought that so very clever）， she was soaked to the skin.