Lily laughed, planting herself in front of him. “Stop—it’s an order.”
He slowed with his hands on his hips. He took a moment to walk off the burn. Only when he didn’t think he’d start wheezing like a fool, he faced her. “You gonna tell me who killed my mother?”
“I’ve already told you I don’t know. No one does.”
“I don’t believe you,” he said. “You know everything but who killed her.”
She sighed. “Hey, I was just checking on you. I didn’t come here to argue. I’ll see you later.” She turned away.
He didn’t want her to leave…not yet. Shoving down the anger, he ran the back of his hand over his forehead. “Sorry. I’m going stir-crazy. So how long have you been watching?”
She turned back to him, folding her arms over her chest. “Long enough to know you need more time.”
His brows shot up. She doubted him, but at least she was staying. “I’m ready now.”
“You think you’re ready to take me on?” She cocked her head to the side. “If you can beat me, then maybe.”
“I think I’ll do fine,” he offered without an ounce of doubt. He knew if he could prove to her he was ready, then he could get the hell out of this place. He nearly forgot what the outside world looked like.
Lily stared at him. Dark shadows blossomed under her eyes, dulling them. “I’m not going to go easy on you, buddy.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to.” He cracked his neck. The Bugatchi jogging pants hung low on his hips as he straightened. “Let’s do this.”
Lily invited him forward with a saucy grin. She waited till he was only a foot away before she launched a brutal offensive. She was fast and light on her feet. He would feint in one direction to avoid a sharp thrust and end up with a sideways kick in his midsection. Before long, he wound up on his back, panting and swearing from a fierce spin kick.
“I didn’t think you were ready,” she announced, not even out of breath.
Expelling harshly, he jumped onto the balls of his feet. He was better than this. He’d been fighting not only Rafe, but two or three more Nephilim at a time. “I’m not out yet, darling.”
“Darling?” she repeated. “I’m so not impressed.”
He smirked, grabbing two of the half-circle blades off the floor.
“Oh, so you want to play hard?” Lily released the blades from her cuffs. “Getting a bit big for your britches?”
Michael didn’t respond to that. Instead, he flew into a butterfly kick, bringing the blades down as he landed. Lily met him with a wild laugh. Blow after blow, they went after each other. Michael blocked a series of kicks and jabs that would have knocked a lesser man on his ass. He kept up with the moves easily, and even got a little cocky. “Come on, Lily, I’ve heard you can do better than this.”
She sneered right before she turned on her heel gracefully, and with one powerful roundhouse kick, she knocked both of his legs out from underneath him. The blades flew from his hands on impact.
She stood above him, smirking. “Never let your guard down.”
He coughed, rolling to his side and staring up at her smug face. “Never let your guard down?” Moving lightning fast, he went for her legs. He snagged the edge of her foot.
Unable to catch herself, she landed halfway across his lean body. But before he could react, she placed the sharp edge of the blade to the fragile skin of his throat. “Now what are you going to do?”
He glanced at the sharp blade and then back to her bright, laughing eyes. Lily was strong and incredibly fast, but he had damn near a hundred pounds on her and a foot or more in height. Using the grappling skills Rafe all but beat into him and the advantage of strength, he locked his legs around her hips and rolled. He peered at her. “What are you going to do?” he taunted.
She tried to kick out her legs, but the iron strength of his thighs pinned them to the floor. When she lifted her upper body to throw him off-balance, he quickly forced her back. “Well,” she sputtered, “apparently you are very adept at grappling.”
He grinned. “Now you want to tell me I’m not ready? When I took you out?”
“Well, shit.” She smiled. “You just might be ready.”
Staring at her, he laughed. “That’s all I’ve wanted to hear.”
She frowned. “Good. Now get off me.”
He rolled off and sat cross-legged beside her. “I can’t believe I actually got one up on you. I’m kind of impressed with myself.”
Slowly, Lily sat up and looked at him. “Don’t get too big of a head. It was only once.”
“We could go again, but I feel bad about beating up on a chick.” He grinned, but it quickly faded as another reality settled in. “Shit. You know what I just realized?”
“What?”
“Some of those deadheads and minions will be females.” He shifted his weight from foot to foot. “Man, besides that deadhead in the stairwell that day, I’ve never hit a female in my life.”
“Well,” she said slowly. “Don’t look at them as females, you know? And trust me, when the first one tries to rip out your intestines, you’ll get over it pretty quickly.”
“Hopefully they all try that then. I won’t have such a complex.”
Lily smiled. It seemed to Michael some of the tension had eased from her body. He watched her for a few seconds, wondering what it must’ve been like for her to grow up in this world. When he asked, he was surprised that she answered.
“It’s hard to explain,” she said. “The Sanctuary became my family, you know? And all of this—the fighting and the craziness—is second nature to me. Some days nothing shocks me.”
“And others?”
She lifted her head, eyes large and somewhat distant. “Some days I wish I was you and no one had found me.”
“I don’t know. Living and not knowing what I was? All of this would’ve been easier. I could have avoided years of feeling like there was something more I should be doing.” He laughed, shaking his head. “I know that sounds lame.”
“No! No. It doesn’t sound lame. Did you really feel that way?”
He nodded, relieved he was actually holding a normal conversation with someone. “I always felt like I was missing something, like a purpose.”
“Wow,” she murmured. “I had no idea.”
He started to respond but was cut off by an alarming amount of yelling. Lily shot to her feet, then headed toward the door. Nearly ripping it from the hinges, she threw open the door.
Michael followed her into the hallway. The brightness of the corridor cast a harsh light on the scene before him. Farther down toward where the labs were, Lily had been brought to a standstill.
Part of him wished he hadn’t followed her. He had seen a lot of bad things in his life, but…this was by far the worst thing he had ever seen.
Luke and Danyal supported a man slumped between them; his head fell forward and blood streamed from his messy blond hair. Michael couldn’t even tell what the color of his shirt had once been. Soaked with blood, it had been ripped open, and strips of flesh hung from his bones.
They took a step, and the thing lifted his face, letting out a howl that turned Michael inside out. The Nephilim was utterly unrecognizable. Deep cuts ran from his scalp down to his chin, exposing tissue and muscle.
“Micah?” Lily gasped.
The receptionist from the lobby hovered behind them with a cell pressed to her ear. Her normally manicured exterior showed cracks as she ran a hand over her tightly crafted coif. “I don’t give a flying shit who you are,” she hissed into the phone. “Or what dinner I’m interrupting! If you don’t get Dr. Winchester on the phone right now, it will be your job and your head!”
“What happened?” Lily asked.
“I don’t know,” Danyal answered, visibly shaken. “Luke found him.”