Shadowburn (2)

Chapter 47

Every inch of her body screamed in protest when she finally moved away from Scotty. Blast, but she wanted him.

She was almost ready to tell the nymph they could fight some other time--but the remnants of that inexplicable, infuriating guilt were still swirling through her system, and Andreas was right when he said Caelei deserved a fight.

Sin had been a bit rude when she lied to the naiad--though she did not regret that dagger, not even in the slightest. Caelei had deserved that blade for the smirk on her face if nothing else, and Sin wasn't about to apologize.

Nor would she go easy on the nymph.

She took several slow, deep breaths as she strode to the middle of the clearing, trying to force away the intense desire wreaking havoc on her insides. But it wouldn't go away, no matter what she did. She could still feel his hands on her, could still hear his sensual promises in her head.

So after a moment, she gave up on getting rid of it.

And simply turned it into something else.

One breath, two, in and out and with her eyes closed--and when she snapped them open, a new kind of desire raced through her blood. She wanted to fight. Needed to move. Her sword was in her hand in the blink of an eye as she turned to face the naiad, standing a few feet in front of the river. The woman had one of her katana drawn, and Sin arched a brow.

"Planning to go easy on me?"

Caelei glared at her, then drew the second blade as well. "Wouldn't dream of it," she said, and Sin smirked.

"Good." Sin didn't even bother to raise her sword into a guarded position. It simply hung by her side, tip extended only slightly to the right. Sin moved it in tiny circles, almost lazily, her stance relaxed and easy. Everything about her posture screamed that she was open, unguarded, easy prey.

Not focused or concentrated at all, as if she didn't really care about this little spar, as if Caelei wasn't worth the bother.

But beneath hooded lids, Sin's eyes roved, taking in every detail, noting every breath and movement--the pattern in the way the naiad's chest rose and fell, the slight shift of her hips a second before she took a step, the way the grass pressed down, showing her how much pressure the nymph put into the motion.

The way those dark eyes flickered, assessing, the calm, eternal patience of the Fae in their depths, the steady flow of the water. The casual way she held her blades, comfortable between those strong, delicate fingers.

Everything about Sin was bored.

But everything about Caelei was watchful.

And the way she held those blades--she'd seen in Thorn's memories that they'd picked the naiad up in the Furian Range, but it hadn't really occurred to her that the girl was actually Zanderan. That she was old enough to have been Zanderan trained, before the Wandering Masters ceased their roving.

The nymph simply stood there, a few feet away from Sin, and the two women looked at each other for a long moment. Sin vaguely noticed a raven land in a tree closest to the edge--a too large raven. Thorn.

Of course he would be watching this.

Sin arched a lazy brow. "Are you going to stand there all day, naiad? I thought you wanted to spar."

Caelei smirked. "You're welcome to make the first move, human."

Sin rolled her shoulders as if she didn't have a care in the world. "Nonsense. You're Zanderan trained--you ought to follow the old ways." She noticed the surprise that flashed through the girl's eyes, and Sin almost--almost--felt sorry for her. "Or has it been so long since you've fought that you have forgotten the Challenger's Rite?"