“Xander, does Anya have to hover like that?” I asked, just a little on the loud side. “I’m developing an allergy to leather.”
Xander gave another wan smile. I wondered if he was trying to play hard to get. “She’s doing her job,” he said.
“What job is that?”
“Protecting me.”
I raised a dubious brow. “I thought that was my job.”
Xander’s smirk widened into an all-out seductive smile. Shit. He’d been fishing and pulled out the heavy gear. “I’m glad to hear you say that,” he murmured in a voice that put my temper over the top. “Very glad.”
Oh man, was I an idiot. He’d kept Anya close just to get a reaction. He knew how to play me, and I let him-every time. “But it looks like I’ve been replaced,” I said, parrying his words like a sword thrust. “I guess I’m officially unemployed.”
“Not quite,” Xander said, and my stomach constricted into a tight, anxious ball. “I have other tasks set out for you.”
“Other tasks,” I repeated in a monotone. “I don’t think so, Xander. You can’t just order me around like one of your subjects.”
He raised a challenging brow. “Can’t I?”
I stuck my chin out defiantly. “No, you cannot.”
With a robust, albeit exaggerated, pat to his well-muscled stomach, the King of Shaedes rose from his chair and headed for the door, effectively dismissing my previous statement. “I’ve enjoyed our time together this morning. But I have matters of state to attend to. We’ll talk again soon.”
I shifted in my seat, fingering the dagger strapped to my thigh. The thought of catapulting it toward his head made me feel all warm and fuzzy. “Aren’t you forgetting something? You asked for me this morning. What did you want?”
His smile became that of arrogant satisfaction. “I got what I wanted. Good morning, Darian.”
Not one single creature in all of my existence was capable of pushing my buttons the way Xander could. He hadn’t needed me for a goddamned thing. Requesting my presence was nothing more than a test to see if I’d jump to attention when he snapped his fingers. And while in his eyes I’d passed with flying colors, in my own opinion, I’d failed miserably. I passed Raif on my way back up the stairs. A frown marred his chiseled features, and he stared at his feet as he descended the stairs, lost in thought. I doubt he would have paid attention to me at all if I hadn’t brushed my elbow against his arm.
“What would prompt you to seek out my brother this morning?” Raif asked, running his hand through his usually well-kept, tawny hair. “Bored with the Jinn and looking for trouble?”
His words were spoken in humor, but there was no laughter in his tone. I ignored the slight against Tyler and gave him a quick once-over. His face looked drawn and unusually pale, the menacing spark gone from his eyes.
I cracked a grin, playing along so I’d resist the urge to question Raif about his haggard appearance. “You know me…always looking for a little trouble. What about you? Does His Royal Obnoxiousness have something planned for you today?”
A corner of Raif’s mouth hinted at amusement, but the expression did not spread to the rest of his face. Azriel’s little family feud had taken a greater toll on him than he’d let on. I assumed Delilah’s statements the previous day hadn’t helped the situation either. Her words had struck a chord.
“I’m going to work out, actually. I haven’t beaten you in a while,” he added, sounding a bit more like himself. “Want to join me?”
My grin grew into a full-on smile. “Love to.”
I followed Raif back down the stairs and through another hallway into the west wing of Xander’s sprawling estate, an area I’d never explored. Not that I was interested in every nook and cranny, but it did pique my curiosity. A gymnasium-sized room took up the entire wing, and, aside from weights and bags and a mirror-lined wall, the room boasted an open floor covered with the soft foam mats used in martial arts tournaments. I wondered for a brief and bitter moment why Raif hadn’t conducted my earlier training in this room rather than in Xander’s empty warehouse. But as I reflected on my teacher’s nature, I realized he’d kept me at a distance from the king, his protection being Raif’s highest priority.
As I looked around the gym, Raif pulled two bokken from a wall mounted with various weaponry, including a couple of war axes and a mace or two. The wooden version of the samurai sword, the bokken was useful when all you were looking for was a good workout. It was also the preferred training tool when the teacher feared he’d slice a less experienced student to shreds. I didn’t think Raif was concerned about hurting me, so I had to assume the bokken was for his protection.
I was right.
Raif was at such a serious disadvantage that I would have squealed for joy if I’d been a girlier girl. Instead, I settled for smug satisfaction. We hadn’t sparred since my transformation-and he wasn’t even close to prepared.
Confined to his solid form, he had only his speed and strength to rely on, while I had all of that and more. His labored breathing and sweat-drenched face were sufficient indicators that I had the upper hand. I have to admit, I went easy on him. I tried to remain corporeal as much as possible, but I found at times the change was triggered subconsciously. The glorious crack of the hard wood resounded in the empty gym, and my abilities as a fighter had even me surprised.
Raif came at me running, the bokken twirling from side to side. I managed a back flip and landed, crouched low to the ground. It took only one swipe of my own weapon and my teacher landed like a stone. He lay flat on his back, a position I’d imagined putting him in more than once, staring up at the ceiling. The smile faded from my face as his sullen attitude stole the glory from my victory. Damn him.
“What’s the matter with you?” I demanded, lowering the bokken.
I paced a full circle around him, slicing the air with my wooden sword before he decided to answer.
“What’s the matter…,” he repeated, pushing up to sit cross-legged on the mat, “is that the air I breathe is being poisoned by that Oracle. This matter with her is not resolved, and I want nothing more than to turn her over to the council and have her gone from my sight.”
He rocked backward, rolling onto his back and with a fluid kick of his legs, propelled himself to a standing position. He spun, the bokken whirring as it sliced through the air before dropping to his side. “She’ll cause nothing but trouble here. Her mind is gone, and all she does is sit in that room and ramble incoherent strings of words.” Raif shook his head, wiping at his brow. “Damned Oracles,” he said, disgusted.
“Raif,” I began, willing to chance his temper, “I don’t think we should disregard what she’s telling us.”
He turned, giving me his full attention, one eyebrow cocked curiously.
“I think Delilah knows your daughter’s name.”
“Her name is no secret. That the Oracle knows it is indicative of nothing. I can tell where your thoughts are leading, Darian. Leave it be.”
No, he didn’t. He didn’t have a clue what I was thinking. And I knew Raif didn’t really want me to let it be. He just didn’t realize it yet.
“I mean it,” he said as if he could read my thoughts. “Do not pursue this.”
“But-”
“I said no.”
“Raif-”
“Leave these notions like a stone on the road. Do not think on them again.”
He seized the bokken from my hand and went to hang the training swords back on the wall.
“Brakae. Your daughter’s name is Brakae-am I right?”