by J A S Bennet
“You are asking for it, asshole.” Ava lunged at him and knocked him completely down. It wasn’t that Cian was not ready for the impact, it was just that the impact was so hard he had no choice but to go down with her. She straddled him and pinned his arms down above his head. “What’s the matter, asshole? Not used to losing to a woman?” She laughed in his face and he gave a little bump with his hips and the next thing Ave knew, she was under him.
“Oopsie, did that hurt? Not used to losing to a man?” Cian returned the smile she had given him when Ava took her hand and caressed the side of his cheek. His reaction went from whimsical to serious instantly. In that instant, Ava took his hand that he placed on hers and twisted it just enough for her to bend his pinky back. His reaction of retreating his hand was exactly what she needed in order to escape the hold. He leaned back and grabbed his hand while she simply slipped out from beneath him, stood back up, and returned to her fighter’s stance. Cian jumped up and did the same.
Cian pulled something out of the waistband of his pants and threw it her way. The two weapons landed at her feet with a thud. She picked them up. She hadn’t trained with any weapons, but she took to sparring so quickly that she had every confidence she would nail this, too.
“What the hell are these for? Is this a fight to the death now?” She lifted up the weapon to make her point.
“Seemed like a pretty fair match with hand-to-hand sparring so I thought we could step up this game and see how you handle these. Place it in your hand, princess, let’s get this party started.”
Excitement raced up her arms at the same time as a sudden wave of heaviness from Sheridan tried to take over. She would deal with that later, somehow. “That’s what he said.” A smile took over her face at his scowl.
Placing the weapons in her hands with the handle in her fist, thumbs down, leaving the blade sticking straight out, she bent her legs and waited for Cian to make a move. Cian pulled two identical blades from his waistband and placed the handles in his fist with the blade pointed down. Then, he bent his elbow and raised up the blade close to his chin so that the blade was pointed out. It took Ava zero time to realize that the entire room had gone quiet. She didn’t dare take her attention off of Cian to look and confirm, but she could feel how all eyes were on them.
Circling around the mat, they stared at each other, each waiting for the other to make the first move. On the third rotation around a loud banging noise that sounded as if someone had dropped a shield of some sort pulled Cian’s attention away for the split second that Ava needed to make a move. She was fast, and just when she swung her arm around to bring the blade down on his arm to draw enough blood to make a point, she gave a small smile.
Cian saw the movement out of the corner of his eye. He corrected his balance and shifted quick enough to avoid the blade aimed for his forearm. While Ava corrected her balance for the missed attempt, he used his hip to bump her just enough to make her take an extra step before she returned to her defensive position, giving him the access he needed. While she focused on her balance, he brought the blade up from behind and put his arm around her neck.
She struggled to break his hold to no avail. Every attempt she made only tightened his hold on her. All options she could think of put that blade into her skin. Swallowing a large dose of pride, she whispered, “Uncle.”
Instead of gloating like she was sure he would, he placed his mouth right beside her ear. “You may be the best at sparring, but you have yet to learn how to spar with blades. One false move can be lethal. That’s why you have me. I suggest you give me access so you can learn in a private setting instead of looking like a beginner out in the open.”
Ava took her focus off the blade beside her head and the one aimed at her heart, and looked out at every eye that was in the place. She was used to being watched, what she wasn’t used to was losing. Cian let go of her slowly and watched as she dropped her weapons at his feet.
She gave a half turn and was right in Cian’s face. “You are allowed in my dojo. Don’t make me regret it.” Ava turned on her heels and headed back into the sanctuary of the private hallway that lead to her dojo. She couldn’t understand why she was so out of breath. As she walked away, she could smell his scent on her clothes. She could feel the phantom presence of the hands that were on her just a few moments ago. She knew she needed to work off some steam before she could get any weapons training in today, so she went straight to the punching bag and started abusing the fuck out of it.
Cian walked to the men’s locker rooms of the guard house. He needed to regroup after being so close to her.
After walking through the watching crowd and getting patted on the back for doing what nobody else had been able to do, he needed space to think. He also needed a quiet place to deal with the erection that hadn’t gone away since she walked off the training mat. How in the fuck are they going to train like they need to if his body responded to her like this every time they were around each other? He grabbed a towel and removed his clothes as he headed for a shower and the opportunity for privacy to take care of his pulsing need.
25
Recovery
Brecon brought Jenny back to the castle as fast as he could go, which, for a guardian with his skill level, was pretty damn fast. The caretaker showed him to her bedroom. He laid her on the bed, arranged her wet hair on her pillow, and waited for the healer to arrive. Tadhg arrived first and immediately took a seat on the bed so he could hold Jenny’s hand. The look on his face could have broken a stone’s heart. He clutched his stomach, as if he was the one who had fallen ill. Brecon felt like he was intruding.
“Saol fada agus breac-shláinte chugat.” Tadhg’s murmurings never ceased as Brecon excused himself from the room. He definitely felt like he was intruding on some private moment. On the way out, Brecon could hear Tadhg begin to sing.
Deaglan arrived with the healer, Mac. Dressed in nondescript clothing and possessing a simple face, the healer blended with the walls. Her entire being was serene and still. Mac got to the top of the stairs and followed the scent of illness to Jenny’s room. She did hesitate to give a moment’s attention to Sheridan’s room, maybe sensing the sadness.
Entering Jenny’s room, she wrinkled her nose. “Poison.”
Mac took up her post on the opposite side of the bed from Tadhg, who continued to hum and pray over Jenny. His shirt was still wet and sticking to him from carrying the sprite to the stream, but nothing was further from his mind.
Tadhg watched carefully while Mac took Jenny’s vitals. When she reached to peel open Jenny’s eyes to check her dilation, he flinched at the angry red color where the white should be. Squeezing her hand he leaned down and whispered in her ear, “You are not alone.”
Deaglan stepped out of the room. He wanted to see if Sheridan was still in her room. He hadn’t seen her all day and there was more than enough chaos happening so it was possible he could have missed her. But the way Mac paused at her door made him think she was still in there and something was wrong.
He knocked first. There was no reply. He slowly pushed open the door and saw her lying in bed, her chest rising and falling rhythmically. His heart flooded with care, shortly before it began to race in concern. “Sheridan?”
She didn’t move.
He stepped closer and raised his voice a notch. “Agra?”
Her eyes fluttered open, but didn’t focus on him. She flipped over, giving him a great view of her ass. His body didn’t have the same response that beautiful sight would normally cause. The concern was far too great.
He perched on her bedside and waited, hoping she would roll over and tell him what was going on. After a few minutes of waiting, he called her name again, no longer a question. “Sheridan.”
She sighed, then rolled over, throwing her arm across her face. There was no hiding from Deaglan. He could see things in her that she didn’t even know were there. The weight of guilt she was attempting to carry was so heavy there was no way she would be able to
stand upright with all of it on her shoulders. Taking a breath, he played the ace up his sleeve. “Jenny’s sick.”
Her arm came down to rest at her side, and her eyes became alert. He had definitely gotten her attention. “How do you mean?”
“She was trying to save the sprites, whose home was poisoned. Brecon said she was underwater for more than five minutes and when she came out she was carrying a very sick sprite. As soon as she handed her off, she passed out.” Deaglan held Sheridan’s hand and rubbed slow, soothing circles on the back of it with his thumb as he spoke. “Jenny hasn’t woken up yet. The healer is with her now, but, Sheridan, she needs you and Ava to be there for her. Help her heal. Share your strength.”
Sheridan looked away as tears filled her eyes. “Talk to me, Agra.” She shook her head, but he persisted. He gently moved some stray hairs out of her face, tucking them behind her ear. “Tell me what’s going on in this gorgeous head of yours.”
After breathing in deep, she let out a shaky breath. “I don’t think I have enough strength to share.”
“I’m strong enough to take you down, Cian.” If he wanted a fight, he would get one. Ava was not going to take it easy on him whatsoever. Especially not today, after he showed her up in front of everyone in the guard house.
“You can try, princess.” He gave a devilish smile that made Ava want to punch him in the face and kiss him at the same time. Stupid feelings. They had been practicing with assorted smaller weapons all morning. It was ridiculous how many times they had been pressed up against each other.
Ava needed space to clear her head so she put distance between them to regroup her feelings that have been haywire since Sheridan fell in her dark hole of depression. Walking over to the wall ‘o weapons, as she liked to call it, she followed the humming noise that led to a spear. She lifted it off the wall and held it so Cian could see.
“What is this thing? It has a very distinctive humming sound that comes off of it when I get near.” She had been trying to ignore the irritating noise since she first found the dojo.
Cian threw a look toward the spear hanging from her hands. He immediately recognized it. “That is the Spear of Lugh, it makes perfect sense that the weapon that calls to you is this one.”
Ava gave Cian a quizzical look. “Why would any of these weapons speak to me, pumpkin butt?”
His lips twisted at the term of endearment she’d chosen. “This is the weapon of Lugh. He is said to have been the champion of the gods in Irish Mythology. Makes perfect sense that the warrior of Castle McGrew would hear his call the loudest.” Ava walked over to where he was standing, bringing the spear with her.
“You think that this is the weapon we should start training with?” She shifted the spear from hand to hand and stopped only when Cian threw his head back and laughed. “What’s so funny, asshole?”
“You don’t begin training with a weapon like this, princess. You build up to it. There are lesser weapons that should go after the knives and shields we’ve been working with today.” He looked over to see her squatting down in a stance that told him she was ready to spar. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” The smile on his face was a mile wide as he walked over to where she was and squatted in the same fashion as she.
Ava raised the spear, and as it lifted straight up and down a huge bolt of light came out of the spear and hit the ceiling. The force of this bolt caused Ava to drop the spear and fall to the ground on her ass.
“Duck!” Cian shouted. As the spear hit the floor another huge bolt flew from it and barely missed Ava’s head, if only because she raised both arms to protect it and curled into a ball.
Cian ran to her and arrived at her side as the bolt evaporated into the air around them. He had never experienced the fear he just had. Watching the bolt narrowly miss her head made his heart beat so hard that he feared it would jump right out and end up on the floor at their feet. He lifted her head into his lap and looked into her eyes for no reason except to make sure she was still alive.
“Aoife, are ye okay? Can ye talk? Do I need to call in the healer?” His eyes roamed up and down her frame in frantic exploration. It took a few seconds to register the look on her face.
“That was the most badass thing I’ve seen since Sheridan healed that fawn in the woods. Holy fuckballs, that weapon has my name written all over it. And you…you’re my hero.” Thinking she was being sarcastic, he gently dropped her head on the mat below them. He sat up and shook his head. One second Ava was looking at the weapon that she now adored and the next she was staring up at a furious guardian as he tackled her down to the mat. “This is not a joke, princess. You could have very easily gotten yourself killed if you hadn’t listened to me the second I yelled. But now you’re teasing me for crying out. I would never be able to refrain from helping you, I couldn’t. I am here to train you with these weapons, not play games that could get you killed.” He leaned over, and by the time he was finished with his rant he was right in her face.
Time seemed to have stopped. She wasn’t laughing at him, she was grateful for his protection, and didn’t have any desire to look away. They shared a few breaths before Cian said the next words. “Oh, fuck it.” As he leaned over farther, he wrapped her face in his hands. When his lips touched hers, they weren’t soft. His kiss was demanding. Ava made a surprised sound in the back of her throat as Cian pushed his tongue against her lips seeking an invitation in. She made her mind up almost against her own will, and as she opened for him, truly enjoying this moment and their connection, a soft knock sounded at the door.
Cian lifted his head and looked down on her swollen lips and red mouth. “Who is it?” was yelled from his lungs before he even intended it to be. He looked down at her and waited for his least favorite person in the world – without knowing who it was – to answer his question.
Ava was panting like a racehorse at the end of a two-mile race. She could barely remember her own fucking name. All she knew was that she was just cheated out of finishing the best kiss of her life. When she looked back up at Cian, it hit her extremely hard who she shared said kiss with. Fumbling with removing his hands from her face, she shifted and jumped out from underneath him and scurried to the other side of the room. She could hear voices after Cian went to the door and opened it, but she didn’t know what was happening because her brain had appeared to have malfunctioned. She vaguely remembered inviting someone or another in the dojo.
Cian took a few steps closer to Ava while Brecon still waited at the door. Cian stopped, not quite sure he could be any closer to her without wanting to continue that kiss, so he stood by as Brecon told her the news.
“We need you to come to the castle right now, Miss. Jenny is sick and she’ll be needing you close during the healing.”
Ava needed only to nod at the request and followed both men out the door. Her girl needed her.
26
Making Messes
Grog slammed the door open and burst into Sheridan’s bedroom, causing Deaglan and Sheridan to jump almost clear off the bed. He flew to the other side of her room and unlocked her terrace door. As he went outside he called, “Still sleeping? You sick, my queen. Bring sick people pretty flowers.”
The “what the fuck” look on Deaglan’s face was absolutely priceless. Sheridan somehow found the strength to smile at the sight of it and she was grateful she hadn’t missed it.
“Now that is a beautiful thing to behold.” The priceless look had changed to a grin. His eyes held no sense of sarcasm nor heat. It was just an honest compliment, but Sheridan wasn’t buying it. She couldn’t believe anyone could care about her smile that much. It didn’t match her reality.
Grog returned through the terrace door carrying a galvanized tub. Before they knew what was happening, he dumped out a huge pile of dirt and left again with the tub. Sheridan gasped, but wasn’t incredibly surprised with his antics. She loved the smell of fresh soil and knew it would make the caretaker mad, which was just an added benefit as far as she was conce
rned. Especially after her shenanigans with Ava’s computer.
“Do you want me to lock the door before this gets worse?”
Sheridan shook her head. It’s not that it was a bad idea, she just knew it wouldn’t change anything. Grog would do what Grog was going to do. “That won’t stop him.”
Sure enough, he was back. The tub was filled with an assortment of flowers evidently pulled up by their roots. He buried them all in the soil. Sheridan watched, intrigued. Deaglan’s eyes were wide, somewhat horrified. When he planted the last one, she expected him to look to her for approval, but he wasn’t done yet. He took the tub back out.
“Is he done now?” Deaglan was cautiously hopeful.
“I doubt it. He hasn’t created quite enough chaos yet.” Sheridan was shaking her head, not so much in disbelief as in amusement. Heaven only knows what he would come up with next.
“Are you sure it’s wise to let him stay here?”
“No.” She wasn’t sure of that, but she was fully aware that he didn’t wait for permission to move in originally either. She shrugged. “But I don’t think it is a matter of letting him do anything.”
Deaglan nodded. He seemed to be catching on. Grog did whatever he felt like doing. Just then, he must have wanted to flood Sheridan’s room, because he came bumbling in under the weight of the metal tub filled with water, which was splashing everywhere in his path as he attempted unsuccessfully to balance it on his head.
“Oh no.” Sheridan covered her mouth with her hand. She wasn’t sure if she was in shock, or if she was about to bust out laughing. Grog dumped the whole bucket out and the wave of it crested against her bedposts and night tables. There was water everywhere. Deaglan pulled his feet up off the floor just in time and let out a few choice words.