sun had barely come up. “But during those years, you were an angel, not a
mortal, Lev.”
Griffin stepped outside, followed by
Celia. All wore casual clothing, and when Griffin came near, he was suddenly
given a sword of his own, something that, while Evan pushed it into his palm,
Griffin had a hard time closing his fingers around.
“What’s this for?” he asked, frowning
at the cold steel blade.
“Training.” Evan gave him a knowing
look. “While Celia and I have supernatural powers, neither you nor Lev has, so we
need to make sure you’re both ready for what’s coming.”
Lev flipped his knife over and shook
his head. “Okay, this is stupid; no mortal weapon is going to make an impact
on any supernatural creature.”
Evan took Lev’s knife. Holding it up
in the bright sunlight, the blade shone far more brightly than it should have,
a shimmer that suggested otherworldly power.
“These blades have been blessed and
will deal with the spirits we run into quite nicely.”
He handed the blade back and peered
at Griffin. “Let’s get started. I’ll demonstrate the maneuvers and let you
two work on perfecting them.
Lev gritted his teeth. “We’re wasting
time! This isn’t going to get her back.”
“We wouldn’t have to worry about
getting her back if you’d done as you were supposed to,” Griffin muttered,
shaking his head.
“Enough,” Evan snapped, glaring. “We
have to do this, so just be quiet and pay attention!”
Evan regarded them both, waiting
until he was sure they were focused. This done, he briefed them on the moves, partnering
with Celia when necessary, the whole while keeping an eye on them, monitoring their
progress. As he expected, Lev had no difficultly. In as much as his mind had
been muddied by very human thoughts, Lev still moved fluidly, instinctively—much
more so than Griffin. It wasn't that Griffin was clumsy; his issues simply
stemmed from having always been strictly human, and that made him a slower.
All in all, though, it didn't take
long for them to get what Evan thought they needed before he stepped back and
let them go at it, pitting their skills against one another, hoping he had
things under control.
Control, however, even under the best
of circumstances, was all too often illusory.
Neither said anything, but all the
same Evan didn't like the expressions on their faces. There was a brutal
antagonism to both, scarcely checked, one bordering on hatred. Still, Evan
didn't want to broach the topic for fear it might not end up being an issue
unless he gave it voice.
As he watched them, Evan gave them
room. At first, they circled one another warily, neither taking the initiative,
which surprised him a little. Part of him had thought Lev’s human
transformation might compel him to take the first swing, but he hung back,
waiting, presumably waiting for an opportunity, some giveaway in his opponent’s
expression.
While Evan had been so carefully
watching Lev, he realized too late he’d made a mistake.
“Come on—what’re you waiting for?”
Griffin growled, his voice low and menacing.
“Meaning?” Lev’s tone matched his.
“Meaning, if you hadn’t screwed up,
Lizzie would still be here. Meaning, if you were still an angel, none of this
would have happened.”
Evan started to intercede but wasn’t
quick enough. Lev lunged, and Griffin’s blade met his. For an instant, their
eyes locked, and then they began the next round of attacks, each successive blow
of steel on steel was more reckless and violent than the last.
Although he thought Lev would have
the upper hand, Griffin somehow managed to disarm him—to jar the blade from
Lev’s grip and send it flying. Evan thought it might end there, but more
quickly than he could’ve imagined, Lev reached not for his sword but instead
for a metal upright that had once been part of a tent Jimmie had meant to throw
out. Lev swung wildly, and before Evan could move,