Revolution (Risen Series Bk2)
Chapter 8 ~ Swordplay

Happy New Year Everyone!

I flicked through the news channels almost in a trance, searching for any and all coverage of the attacks in Rome. There didn't seem to be any other city or country having the same problem but I had the feeling it was only a matter of time.

The iPad on my lap had a dozen open tabs as I searched for any mention of it being vampire or otherworldly. Nobody seemed to be heading towards believing it was no human behind it yet but the attacker wasn't exactly hiding the fact.

"You need to sleep, Shylah," Atanas mumbled from the bed.

I hummed in answer, flicking the TV off and the room went dark. I'd done all I could for now. There was nothing new and Kincaid had shown me how to set up notifications for any news alerts. I set the iPad on the table and rubbed my stinging eyes before wiggling cramped fingers. How humans spent so much time on these devices I'd never understand.

Unable to help myself, I switched the iPad back on, making sure I hadn't missed anything in the seconds it had been off.

Atanas sighed and I heard the sheets rustle as he moved. "Shylah. Sleep."

While I did feel tired, sleep didn't feel like something that would come easy tonight. Working until I passed out seemed better than tossing and turning in bed and keeping my mate awake. He needed his rest more than I did.

"It's been two weeks, Atanas. Two weeks and Padraig hasn't found anything, two weeks and another four bodies left for us. A human is going to see something before we do and that won't end well for us," I said wearily.

Pushing myself to my feet, I cringed when I caught sight of myself in the mirror. Dark bags circled my eyes, my brow was creased with ever present worry and my hair was slick with grease. I needed a shower, proper sleep and to feed but who had the time or will with everything going on?

Atanas slid from the bed and walked towards me but I turned my face away from him. I didn't want him to see me like this. He'd been so busy lately and this had been the first time we'd been alone together for what felt like weeks. We'd hunted together a few nights ago but it had been short and he'd went to bed straight after. He hadn't had the chance to see the mess I'd become.

"I know you don't agree with the decision to send Anna with Padraig, or any of the ones I've made in the last few weeks," Atanas murmured, his hands gripping my hips to turn me to face him. "I'm sorry I haven't been around as much when you've needed me too."

I sighed, resting my forehead against his chest, soaking in the feel of him. "You're doing what you have to do, making the tough decisions. I understand."

His fingers sunk into my hair, tugging so I was forced to look up at him. There was no disgust in his eyes as his gaze searched my face. "You trust me don't you?"

"Always," I breathed out, my fingers curling into his shirt. "It's Airell I don't trust."

"It's a good thing you don't need to trust Airell then," Atanas teased, leaning in to kiss me.

I kissed him back but couldn't find the same laughter in what he said. Of course we had to trust Airell to some extent. We had to trust that we knew what he was doing, we had to trust that he'd let Gideon and Erik in amongst his people, we had to trust we understood him enough to know why he was targeting Rome.

I was brought out of my thoughts by Atanas poking my forehead. "You think too much."

I snorted. "Well, nobody has every accused me of that before."

He chuckled, tugging into his arms and I wished I could have so easily gone to bed with him. I was too worked up to sleep though and I peeled myself away from him.

"I need to go wear myself out," I said, shoving him gently towards the bed. "I'll be back soon. You sleep, you need it."

Atanas watched me with a frown, looking like he wanted to argue before sitting on the bed. "Okay. Don't do anything rash. Come back to me."

"Me? Rash? Never." I grinned, planting another kiss on him before leaving the bedroom.

I slumped back against the door after I closed it behind me, closing my eyes as I listened to my mate settle into bed again. Without Anna here, there was little I could think to do. Kincaid would be out scouring the city for the last of the Fallen, Una wasn't my biggest fan, and she and Zena would be asleep anyway.

"I need to make more friends," I muttered, shoving away from the door to traipse round the halls like a ghost.

The house was eerily quiet. Someone had a TV on in one of the bedrooms but it was too low to hear what was on. I was glad the halls were deserted though. Lately, everywhere I went, people stared with eyes full of mistrust. It wasn't because I was Airell's special project any longer but because I now had the habit of going off like a bomb whenever my emotions overwhelmed me, which was now most of the time.

Zena had been trying to get me to practice meditation and breathing exercises but I didn't have the patience. Instead I tried to push my power back into the box that had kept it hidden from me for centuries. That didn't work either.

It killed me a little that my own people were afraid of me. I paused at the top of the stairs, gripping the wooden banister tight when my eyes stung with tears. I wouldn't cry. I didn't cry anymore. The banister creaked under my grip.

I took the stairs slowly, breathing deeply until the lump in my throat disappeared. I was a Queen, I reminded myself as I lifted my head and straightened my back. It was time to start acting like it. I kept letting Atanas take control because of his experience but did I not have experience too?

Distancing myself was only making it harder for me and everyone else. Atanas had the trust and love of everyone here. I'd seen the way they looked at him with deep respect. I craved that too. I craved a place here for myself.

There had to be something more I could do to help. Making my way to the kitchen, my mind turned over every move we knew Airell had made since I'd been in his dungeon, trying to put the puzzle pieces of his plan together. I snatched a glass from the cupboard, turning the tap on.

"You look determined."

I spun, my hand flying to my chest. Nadia sat at the table with a half empty bottle of vodka in front of her. Her blue eyes were rimmed with red and her scars seemed to stand out more in the half light of the small lamp.

"I'm trying to make sense of everything that's happened," I replied, relaxing enough to go back to pouring myself some water.

Nadia motioned for me to sit across from her and I chewed my lip. She looked upset, I could tell that much, but I'd never been one for comforting others. I slid onto the stool, taking a slow sip of my drink. Nadia didn't speak and my gaze flicked over her.

"Is um. . .everything okay?" I asked, shifting on my seat.

She shrugged and I baulked as she filled her glass with vodka then finished what was left in the bottle. "I miss my mate; I've never been so far from her before. With Erik gone too, I feel like I'm alone here."

I stared at this woman who was awake for the exact same reasons as me. We felt alone. Except, my mate was here; I couldn't imagine him being half a world away while I stayed amongst strangers. I felt sorry for Nadia. She'd seemed so fierce with her battle scars and icey eyes but she was just the same as everyone else. Unsure of what the future held.

"I heard you fought with your mate before she left. . ." I hinted, leaning forward onto the table.

"Tash might look as if butter wouldn't melt but she can use her words in a way that cut deeper than any blade. She didn't want me to come here and pledge to Atanas but she doesn't understand what he and I went through. She's doesn't know the dangers Airell can wreak across the world," she continued, swirling the contents of her glass with a glum expression. "I sent my mate away and I sent my blood away. Perhaps she was right."

I hadn't known Nadia was Erik's maker. A bond formed between maker and new vampire, one that was meant to be strong, nurturing, caring, but I hadn't experienced that. Nadia obviously cared for him.

"He chose to go and your mate loves you, I've seen that. She'll come around. Leaders have to make choices that might seem bad or wrong to others but I trust you have a good heart and that you know what you're doing." My words surprised even myself. Fuck, was I being supportive? Though I stumbled, I hoped she could understand what I was trying to say.

Nadia gave me her crooked smile and I felt almost proud of myself for cheering her up. When she didn't look away and her expression changed, I had a feeling I wasn't going to like what she was going to say.

"Airell is your maker, yes?" she inquired, even they we both knew she knew the answer.

I nodded, waiting to see her expression turn to hatred as she looked at me but I saw only pity. It was an odd subject change and my grip tightened on my glass.

She tipped her head. "Even though you're so far away from him and your bond has weakened as you've went your separate ways, can you still feel him?"

Her question made me squirm. I could still feel him. It was a sensation I kept buried deep but I could always feel him. He was in the marrow of my bones, a faint glimmer of energy that reminded me who created me. "Yes. I can still feel him."

"Erik has long since left my side to lead his own life but as his maker, I could always feel his presence. . ." she told me, frowning down at her glass of vodka then she shook her head and smiled. "I've done enough overthinking for one night. It's bedtime for me."

I watched her swig the last of her drink and my nose scrunched, my throat burning as if I could taste the vodka. She drunk it as easily as water with far more grace than I could have.

"Goodnight, Nadia," I said quietly.

She did an odd bow before leaving the room and I was left wondering why she'd asked about Airell. There was something else on her mind, more than simply missing her mate and wanting to make up. My fingers drummed on the table as I rubbed my cheek.

Her words sparked something in my head that had the wheels turning. I'd never thought to ask Atanas if he could still sense his maker and I was sure he would have already tried the bond to track her, but what if my own link to Leyla as her descendant could help? Anna would know if there was a way to use magic to find someone through my blood or Atanas'. I sighed.

Perhaps that was the other part of the reason Airell wanted to keep me. I was sure I was still needed in his plans or at least someone like me. But how easy was it to find another Moontouched descendant? I pushed searching for Leyla out of my thoughts. We couldn't go on a wild goose chase, no matter how much I wanted answers.

Once again I wished Anna were here so I could talk through everything. She always seemed to make my humble of thoughts feel more clear. We were due an update from Padraig tomorrow about what they'd found but I knew already they'd found nothing. They would have called already if they had.

Finishing my glass of water, I put the glass in the sink and tried to come up with something else that would occupy me for a while. I wandered round the ground floor until I passed the ballroom. It had been converted into a training room now, the floors covered in padded mats. Throwing a few punches would definitely help release some energy.

I shoved the doors open and they slowly swing closed behind me, only to find the room wasn't empty after all. Kincaid stood in the middle of the hall, giant claymore in hand, and I watched in awe as he went through the different stances. He was precise in each move, the blade slicing through the air with practiced ease.

Leaning against the wall, I kept quiet. He never gave any indication that he knew I was there but I greedily took in everything he did. I'd only fought once with a sword and that had been the night of the rebellion. I'd always used a dagger or no weapon at all. Airell had made sure I could slaughter without the use of blades.

I snorted. Kincaid froze and slowly turned to face me.

"I hope you aren't laughing at me," he said, raising an eyebrow.

I shook my head. "Of course not. I was thinking about the only time I ever used a sword."

"That bad at it were you?"

I blinked, taking offence until he smirked and I chuckled, shrugging. sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FɪndNøvel.ɴᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

"Sorry. I forgot you had a sense of humour," I teased, walking towards him.

He laughed and leaned on his sword and I took time to admire it. There was something written on the hilt but his hand covered most of the letters.

"It's beautiful," I complimented.

"It was my father's. I took it when I left home," he told me, running his hand over the blade.

"Why did you leave?" I asked.

He chuckled but there was no amusement in it. "No father wants their son to return from war as a member of the living dead. The sword had been in my family for generations, I kept it so I'd always had a piece of them with me. I'm sure they assumed I died in the war, there's honour in that at least."

"You never went back?" My heart broke for him. He'd left everything behind, another vampire forced into a life they never asked for.

"I kept tabs on them throughout the years. My sister married my friend and they had six children. My father lived far longer than most for that time, then my older brother became Laird when he passed. I was proud of my brother, he did well by our people. We were close growing up despite him being almost ten years my senior, he taught me to fight," he explained, his gaze distant.

"You remember all of that?"

"Of course. Don't you remember your human life?" he asked, tipping his head.

I shrugged, not liking the direction the conversation was going. "Not really. Flashes of memory if I think hard enough. Nothing too clear. I know I had siblings, I remember a younger sister, a brother maybe. Food was scarce and I think we fought over whatever my mother managed to cook."

He frowned and looked down, running his fingers over the fading crest on the pummel of his sword. I couldn't make out what it used to be but even if I could, I didn't know enough about clans to be able to tell which it belonged to.

"You didn't come here to talk about the past," Kincaid stated, straightening up again.

I noticed the moment his grip changed on his sword and instincts had me sidestepping as he lunged to swing the blade towards me. I felt the whoosh of air as it passed my face and adrenaline spiked my veins. I didn't find it as funny as Kincaid did when he turned to face me again.

"What the fuck?" I snapped, glaring.

He shrugged a shoulder and pointed the sword at me. "This is a place for fighting, that's what you came here for yes? To blow off steam?"

"To burn off energy not have my arm chopped off!" I argued, glaring.

Kincaid grinned then nodded over to a rack of weapons at the back of the room. His eyes were daring and I debated taking him up on his challenge.

"I'll teach you how to weild a sword. Even Atanas isn't as skilled with a blade as I am," he offered.

I smirked, opening my mouth to make a remark about how skilled Atanas really was with his sword but before I could, Kincaid groaned out, "Please don't."

Kincaid really was beginning to understand me, I noted, giving him a cheeky grin. "Do you not get laid enough of something?"

His eyes narrowed but there was a look in his eyes that told me I'd hit a sore spot. So Kincaid really wasn't getting any. I laughed but instead of further teasing, I went to inspect the various swords.

With my lack of knowledge, I didn't know which I'd be best suited for. I recognised the Scottish blades but there were many more. Kincaid stepped up behind me and lifted one from the rack, holding it out to me.

"It's light and easy to maneuver. Once you have the hang of it, we can try you with a bigger one," he said, giving me an encouraging smile. "It's a skill you might want to have with what's coming. You can't kill enemies with innuendos and dark humour alone."

Hesitantly I took it from him and was immediately surprised. I'd been fueled by adrenaline the first time I'd held a sword but now I could really feel the weight of it. I wasn't sure why I thought they'd be lighter, of course they'd be heavy. This sword was, thankfully, a lot smaller than Kincaid's but it then meant I had to get closer to him to strike.

I followed Kincaid back to the middle of the hall and tried to copy the way he'd held his own sword.

"I see why you laughed now," Kincaid noted as he studied my grip.

I had the urge to smack him but I knew he wouldn't appreciate that and having never seen him fight, I didn't know if I would win. Chuckling, he fixed my hold and gripped my hips to move my body so I stood sideways.

"Always face this way, make yourself a small target. Keep light on your feet but grounded, you need to be able to move quickly. Try not to strike wide so you don't leave yourself open," he lectured, circling around me.

I felt a bit silly standing in the middle of the hall while he corrected my stance but it was just the distraction I'd needed. When he was satisfied, he picked up his sword again and grinned as he faced me.

"I'll take it easy on you," he goaded, tapping his blade against mine.

Determination filled me. I wanted to do well. Keeping my weight on the balls of my feet, I did as Kincaid had taught. We parried slowly with him calling out where to move my blade and stopping to point out mistakes I made. We practiced this way for what felt like hours until he felt I got the hang of it.

"Ready to duel for real?" he asked with a smirk.

I nodded, ignoring the ache that had begun to set in my arm. Without another word, Kincaid swung his blade towards me and the shock riveted up my arm when I blocked. I pushed forward, cutting low but he swatted my sword away easily and I was forced to step back as he attacked in a flurry of quick slices, one of which nearly caught my side.

He was really pushing me now. I was left unable to make attacks of my own, only make desperate attempts to defend. My arm was tiring quickly and the sword felt like lead in my hand. I made the mistake of twisting in an attempt to thrust forward and when his sword cut into my shoulder, my vision darkened. Instincts kicked in, power building as it always did when I felt threatened. I wasn't able to hold it back and my body moved as if it had a mind if its own, my fangs lowering aggressively. Kincaid's eyes widened as I pressed forth, the clang of our fight echoing around the room.

A strong swipe of his leg brought me me down and my back hit the mats hard. The air was knocked from my lungs, shocking me back to reality and I let the sword fall from my grasp. I closed my eyes, choking on a breath until instincts released me.

"I see what Atanas was talking about now," Kincaid murmured. "That was slightly terrifying."

A humourless laugh left me and I pushed myself up slightly. "Sorry. I can't help it. Another one of my quirks."

"A helpful quirk to have. You learn quickly though, you were doing well even before that." Kincaid smiled and offered a hand, pulling me up.

My legs felt like jelly beneath me. My hair was soaked to my skin and I wasn't sure if I'd make it to the bedroom. Kincaid had barely broken a sweat but I could hear his heart beating faster and his chest rose and fell quicker too.

"Thanks. I think I prefer fighting without a sword though, it slows me down," I remarked, wiping my sweaty hands on my jeans.

"If you still have energy, we can spar for a bit."

I studied Kincaid closely. It had to be well passed sunrise now, into early afternoon surely. Why was he still awake? What was he trying to escape? Kincaid was a private man and I knew he probably wouldn't tell me.

Shaking myself, I pushed my hair back and gave him a nod. "Let's go."

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