Loki positioned her legs and her arms as if he were a teacher. She, let him, helpless to his advances. When he did, another mild headache hit her. This time, she remembered Angel von Sorrow teaching her how to fight when she was a child. It was an image of them swinging swords in the castle’s garden, Angel teaching her how to ride unicorns, and training at night. She felt the knowledge Angel had given her rush back into her veins.
Loki sniffed her while positioning her. She could tell he liked her scent. She elbowed him in the rib so he’d back off a little.
“How about we fist fight in the mud instead of using swords?” Loki said playfully, walking backward, still facing her. “This way we could get to know each other better.”
“You wish, Huntsman!” Shew sneered, unable to escape his piercing look.
Foolishly, again, Shew waited for a signal to start the sword fight. What was she expecting, a blast of a horn?
Loki surprised her and made the first move. He took a swift step back, pulled out his sword, and slashed at her as if he were an elegant painter with a long brush, putting his final touch on his portrait.
Shew shrieked, eyes closed, waiting for the pain to seep through her body as she realized where he’d cut her. The wind that swooshed with the sword’s swinging almost cut through her neck, but nothing really hurt.
Eyes still closed, she heard him whistle. He was a good whistler.
Shew opened her eyes, and saw he’d only slashed at her dress, leaving her with a bare shoulder.
“I like this cut better. Gives me something to look at,” he winked with his chin up. “Now, shall we?” he took his position, parting his legs, one to the front and one to back.
In her anger, Shew swung at him without even aiming. The sword barely touched his face, and a thin drop of blood trickled down his cheek.
Loki brushed the blood from his face and gazed back at her, amused, “this is going to be fun,” he said and then…
He swung his sword at her. Shew’s reflexes weren’t bad. She swung back at him, both their swords clinking in the forest. Cerené’s glass sword was just as strong as Loki’s metal. Their movements were fast, and she remembered her father’s training. They worked their arms and legs like dancing on coal.
“You’re a jerk.” Shew attacked, forcing him to retreat.
“And what is it about jerks you like so much, princess?” Loki smirked again, swinging with care and enthusiasm. He watched her move as if watching a ballerina dancing her final swan song.
She didn’t comment. She preferred to hurt him as a response to his answer.
“Impressive for a bratty princess,” Loki considered, his eyes shining like a kid with a new toy.
Shew wondered if he wasn’t giving her his best shot, just toying with her. She knew he was a much better fighter—one of the best. She attacked him again, and he responded smoothly. Her moves became more stiffened, like that of a panther on the prowl.
This should be my chance, Shew thought. I better wound him badly and run.
Don’t chicken out this time princess.
Loki jumped backward, somersaulting in the air, showing off. He landed on his feet. “Can’t do that, can you?” he teased then swung at her instantly.
Shew swung continuously with great force. Her anger and frustration fueled her moves. Loki found himself withdrawing.
He used his somersault technique again, but not to show off this time. He had to evade her nerve. He landed on a tree branch, a couple of feet high. The branch moved like an elephant’s trunk, curving and lifting him even higher as if it were enchanted. He stood there with hands on his waist, laughing at her.
“That’s cheating,” Shew shouted, looking up.
“Sue me!” Loki said, teasing her, looking more like Robin Hood than a dark Huntsman.
“How did you do that?” Shew asked.
“Jealous?”
Shew sighed at how childish Loki seemed in this dream. Was this the Huntsman she just saw torturing children in Furry Tell, or was her personality having an impact on him?
Shew decided to replicate his move and jumped onto a tree branch nearby. Surprisingly it lifted her up to him. The trees were tangled like a huge nest over the forest.
Loki didn’t wait for her to adjust to her new elevated surroundings. He just attacked.
Shew responded, careful she wouldn’t fall.
“Show me some fangs!” he demanded.
“Are you trying to provoke me,” Shew swung back.
“No,” Loki said. “I’m trying to kill you, princess.”
“Don’t push your luck, Queen’s bastard,” Shew said, still swinging. She slashed at a lock of his beautiful hair.
“The last girl who called me that got what she deserved,” Loki took a step back and stopped. He snatched his lock of hair from mid air, looking upset. He even tucked it in his pocket, “bastard or jerk?” he gazed back at her, playfully. “Make up your mind.”
Again, Shew doubted they said ‘jerk’ in the 19th century, but out of sheer silliness, Shew snarled at him. It didn’t scare him. He got closer and swung his sword again.
“Nasty,” he said.
—clink.
“Bastard,” she swung at him.
—clink.
“Vulgar,” he swung back, both of them working their feet in the moving tree branches.
—clink.
“Arrogant,” she tried to swing harder.
—clink.
“Bratty princess,” he stopped her and pushed her back.
Shew held onto a vine and swung with it through the air, landing far from him.
Loki stood puzzled, amazed by her acrobatic endeavor. “Monkey!” he said, and grabbed another vine, following her move.
She jumped back on the ground, and Loki followed.
The swinging continued with swords clinking in the dead of the night.
Loki slashed at her dress again, baring her other shoulder.
“You like my dress, huh?” she sighed and hit harder.
“Delay killing me for too long, and you’ll end up naked princess,” he raised an eyebrow.
“But alive?” Shew pressed her sword against his with all her might, their faces close now. Loki was taken back by her words and stare. He looked puzzled, wondering why he liked her so much. Shew didn’t mind if the only way to outlive him was seducing him. She’d spared him once, and she’d expected him to spare her.
“Nice try,” Loki pushed her back, changing his mind. “I eat girls like you for breakfast.”
“Not if I slit your throat the night before,” Shew grit her teeth, and … again … she swung hard.
“I’m just stalling,” he said. “I’m enjoying this tremendously. Did you know I could swing with both hands?” He winked at her.
“You just can’t admit I’m stronger,” Shew said.
Loki wasn’t provoked. He was really enjoying this, and Shew knew it, but it was going nowhere. She wasn’t going to spend all night bantering with him.
“So tell me, princess,” he said, “if you could be anything you want to be, what would that be? And don’t say princess,” Loki spoke as he swung with one hand the other resting on his waist.
“Not funny,” she said, as her arm began hurting. “When will you understand that Carmilla has you by the balls?”
“Balls?” Loki was stuck with her face to face, sword to sword, each one pushing their sword against the other. Their faces reddened. “I don’t have balls.”
“Of course, you do,” Shew omitted a laugh and pushed him away. “You’re just two centuries too old to realize you do.”
In a swift and accurate move, Loki pushed her back and slashed at her lips.
Shew stood paralyzed.
She’d actually felt the tip of the sword on her lips, like a paper cut. If she’d doubted he was going to kill her for a moment, she had to reevaluate the situation. This was his first true warning.
“Shhh,” Loki had his forefinger on his lips. His stare wasn’t funny anymore, filled with sinister mockery. He was just a charming mass murderer. It was at this very moment she sensed that he had enough of having fun with the feisty princess he’d admired briefly.