“Bah!” Ryder slapped his knee, a burst of amusement leaving his throat so loudly I jumped a little.
Not one person standing nearby could stand straight. Ryder fell to the ground with about half of the other people around us, and Blade just stood there, the tin still glued to his face, the thick white cream dripping from his jaw.
“I know this is a costume party,” he said under a mouthful of cream, slowly removing his tinny mask and scooping it all from his eyes. “But I didn’t think masks were compulsory.”
I laughed timidly, getting some distance, even though there was no way he’d know it was me.
After mopping up a bit of his face with a rag from the vendor, he looked down at Ryder, a clear look of revenge moving in under his white eyebrows. “Okay. ’Fess up. How’d you do that?” he said.
“What!” Ryder stopped laughing. “Me?”
“Yes. You.” Blade stepped closer.
“Dude. I was standing behind you.” He presented the scene. “I couldn't have done it.”
Blade, realising how ridiculous it was to blame Ryder, reached down and offered his hand. “Fine. But that was one hell of a breeze then.”
Ryder took Blade’s hand and got to his feet, making the mistake then of winking at me. And Blade caught on instantly, realisation filling his face with surprise first and then malice. He let go, dropping Ryder back on his butt, his steely gaze fixing on me.
“Blade.” I put both hands up, backing away. “You don’t wanna make a scene.”
He took a step in my direction, but stopped. “You’re right.”
I tensed for another second, then relaxed completely with confusion. “I am?”
“Yes.” He grabbed another rag and wiped his face again. “I’ll get my revenge in the fencing match.”
My gaze absently moved across to the slashing and clanking of swords in the arena.
“Come on then.” He offered the way. “Let’s see how well you do when you fight like a man.”
“Like a man?” I raised a brow at him.
“Yeah.” He leaned down, his head almost against mine, and whispered, “When you fight without using your ‘special’ gifts.”
I checked around to see if anyone heard that. They didn’t. “Fine. No cheating allowed then. But I’ll still win.”
“Don't be so sure about that, queeny,” he said. “You’d be surprised how significantly the need for revenge tips a fight in one’s favour.”
***
On any other day, a walk down to the field would yield a perfectly clear view in all directions. The only obstruction would be the oak tree at the centre, where Jase and I used to sit. But tonight, carts and displays and crowds of heads filled the space, closing it in and making it feel like some other place. It was dark and warm within the boundaries of the bonfires, leaving a person naïve to the whipping autumn breeze outside the fairground. But I felt its icy chill as I stood in the middle of the small arena, a practice sword at the ready, my opponent opposite. He asked for a fair fight—a fight without the use of special abilities—except, if this was to be a fair fight, the stall master should never have approved the use of daggers as well as swords.
My nerves made the hilt a little slippery with sweat, further decreasing my chances of winning.
“You might’ve got pie all over my face.” Blade bent slightly at the knees, tossing his dagger from one hand to the other. “But you’re up against me at my best now, queeny.”
I eyed the white smudges across his black uniform and his hair in clumps and tried not to laugh. “You’re right,” I said. “But
my
best weapon is the sword, so don’t expect me to go easy on you just because you’re my best friend’s boyfriend.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, and shot forward faster than a human eye would see, lifting my arm up and jamming the tip of his dagger gently into my rib, almost piercing the skin. And his cool, deep voice travelled the channels of my ear, striking my heart with one word: “Dead.”
“No fair!” I shoved him away from me. “You caught me off guard.”
“As will your enemy, Ara. Have I taught you nothing?” He stepped back and switched the dagger from his left hand to his right, making a point that this time he was using his weakest hand. “Shall we try again?”
Still a little shaken, I sunk into an offensive bend, barely keeping my balance. “Go easy on me. I’m out of practise.”
“No, you were just never a match for me, my little quee—” The last consonant ended sharply with the tip of my blade at the softest hollow in his throat, his chin tilted awkwardly up to the sky.
“No match, huh?” I teased.
“Okay.” He pushed my sword down with two fingers. “That was quick, I must admit. Round three.”
This time, I guess he and I both decided to stretch out some muscles a little and cross blades a few times in an elegant dance of both skill and wit. Blade kept one hand behind his back, that cheeky grin sparkling in his eyes, entertaining our gathering crowd with some witty banter. But I had a response to each of his taunts, and I could pick from the crowd which of those were human or turned recently, not only from the energy or the smell, but from which taunts they chose to laugh at. And since nothing I said seemed to be funny, I gathered that they were mostly Lilithians—the ones that’d been locked up as the centuries charged us, curt and opinionated, into the modern world. As our battle led us closer to the sidelines, I noticed a few more humans there than before, which got me thinking about my human life—the schoolgirl I’d left behind. I could just imagine how different things would have been if a queen like me was ruling when David and I first met. I would have been one of the humans standing here tonight, watching immortals clink their swords in a battle of ego.
“Wake up, queeny,” Blade said, tearing a small opening in my wrist.
“Ouch.” I cupped my wound for a second before his dagger came at me from overhead, meeting my metal block. “Merciless Pom! At least give me a moment to bleed.”
He threw his head back, laughing, and broke away in a graceful spin to quickly tidy his hair with a flick of his hand.
“You won’t be so amused when I chop off those flowing locks.”
He caught my gaze moving to his thick black hair and his eyes rounded. “Not the hair!”
“Oh yes.” I grinned, showing all my teeth. “The hair.”
“I’ll never forgive you,” he said, and bolted.
I chased after him, both of us leaving the designated fencing area and darting through the crowds, blades swinging. He leaped over a table that landed on its side when I tried the same jump, and then scurried behind the popcorn cart, ducking down.
“I can see you, Blade.” I stood with my sword aimed at the ground. A crowd gathered, smiling and laughing, some snapping pictures on their phones. “You can’t run.”
“I can hide,” he said, bobbing up for a second from behind the stand.
“You can try.” I held my breath to hide my exhaustion as I stood very suddenly behind him. I knew he hadn't expected that, given that I very rarely used my vampire speed, if at all, because the look on his face as my hand swung through the air and connected with a strand of his hair was of pure shock.
The dark silky lock fell to the ground and his jaw went with it.
“Do you. Have. Any idea how long it took me to grow that?” he cried, half laughing.
“Let’s see…” I thought about how long it’d been since I moved here and the last time he shaved his head. “About two months, whiner.”
“How ‘bout I cut off
your
hair? See if you cry.”
I curved my lip so my cheek dimpled. “I believe I win.”
He balanced his dagger on both hands and held it in the air as he knelt. “My queen and champion.”
Our onlookers applauded merrily before turning away and spreading out again.
“Here.” I bent and picked up his hair. “You can put it in a locket and give it to Em.”
“Hey, good idea.” His eyes brightened. “Waste not want not, right?”
“You got it.” I winked at him and huffed out the exhaustion, looking around for my next adventure.
“Apple bobbing.” He leaned into me, redirecting my sight with his long pointed finger.
“Sounds good. Where’s Ryder?”
“Smoking.” He tossed his head in the direction of the forest.
“Why has he suddenly taken up smoking?”
“He figures he’s immortal, so why not.”
My lips arched with thought. “Sounds reasonable.”
“Ryder,” Blade called.
The guard stubbed out his cancer stick and strolled over. “What’s up?”
“We’re going to catch apples in our teeth now. You in?”
He didn't look all that interested, but he responded happily enough with an enthusiastic yes. I went all squinty-eyed as I followed them to the next game, wrought with the distinct feeling of being babysat. Ryder never hung out with me. And Blade would normally be hanging off Emily. But she was nowhere to be seen. In fact, neither was Falcon. Something was going on, I was sure of it.
We stopped in a line by the apple bobbing section and purchased an apple from the vendor.
“So there’s the tub there,” he said, pointing to a giant metal bowl big enough to put
me
in. “You drop your apple in there and you have twenty seconds to get it out with your teeth. One person at a time. If you fail, you pick it up and move it on to the flour tub.” He aimed a finger to the next tub. “You get twenty seconds. Succeed, and you get a stuffed toy.” He nodded to the small wall of pink puffy teddies and big-eyed dogs. “Fail, you get nothing but a face full of flour.”
We all looked at a group of giggling girls rolling around in the grass, their faces covered in white.
“Forget girl power,” I said. “That’s flour power right there.”
Blade and Ryder just rolled their eyes.
“Shall we?” Ryder moved on to take the first turn, and Blade and I stood by the tub to point and laugh when he failed. He didn’t, though, which was no fun at all. The cheeky bugger got it within ten seconds, earning himself a pink unicorn.
“Way to go there, Ryder,” Mike said, gliding out from a crowd of people and slapping Ryder on the back. “Now you’ll have someone to cuddle up to at night.”
“And if we cut a little hole in its arse you can give your wrist a break,” Quaid joked, arriving in all his grinning glory with Em beside him, each loaded up with a handful of colas. He handed one to Ryder, scruffing up his hair after, and passed one to Blade then me. “Who’s next?” He motioned to the big silver tub.
“Me.” Blade stepped away and handed his soda back to Emily. “I was just about to kick Ryder’s arse.”
“I saw it from the soda stand over there,” Emily said, smiling so softly at Blade that I felt a little uncomfortable. “I doubt you can beat six seconds.”
He winked at her and dropped his apple into the tub. “You should know by now that I can be fast when I want to.”
All of us simultaneously said, “Eeeew!”
“That’s not something any self-serving man should admit out loud.” Quaid laughed.
“I don’t serve myself—like some of us.” Blade gave Ryder a smug look, then bowed to Emily. “I serve my lady.”
Em nodded, looking at me with a glint in her eye, as if to say “He serves me well.”
“Okay.” I grabbed Blade’s shoulders and turned him toward the game. “This is what we call over-sharing. Time to bob.”
He laughed and crossed his wrists behind his back, bending with an open mouth over the giant bowl of water. But six seconds turned into twenty, and all he’d achieved was a clean face. “Argh! This is bollocks!” he screeched when the timer went off. “That apple is rigged.”
We all just laughed at him while the game host explained that fruit really had no way of being tampered with and he was now going to have to put his face in a bowl of flour if he wanted to save his pride.
“Bugger pride.” He ditched the apple on the ground and took Emily by the arm, wiping his face off with an open palm. “I think I’ve suffered enough embarrassment for one day.”
“Yeah, and losing wasn't the worst of it.” Ryder elbowed him playfully in the ribs, presenting his phone and a picture of Quaid standing at Blade’s butt, pretending to slap it.
Blade just laughed and shook his head. “Pissheads.”
Ryder shoved his phone back in his pocket with a rather quiet promise to see that picture end up on the Core forum later tonight, but Blade didn’t hear that. Luckily for Ryder.
“Okay, Ara,” Mike said, taking my cola. “Your turn. Show these boys what you got.”
I cringed, squeezing my apple firmly in my hand. “And you think
you
were worried about embarrassment, Blade.”
“Aw, you’ll be fine, pretty little queen. Just use that big fat mouth of yours for something more useful than talking for once.”
“Hey!” I griped, my hands on my hips.
“Yeah, hey! That’s my best friend you’re talking to there,” Em said, punching him in the arm on my behalf.
“Thanks.” I flashed her a sisterhood grin and spun quickly on my heel, walking decidedly up to the tub and dropping my apple in. I wasn’t nervous and didn't even feel competitive. I knew damn well I would get it in a time closer to thirty seconds, not six—and I was quite prepared to move to round two.