Marcus Pelegrimas: Howling Legion

“Good. Here comes some more.”

Now, Paige hopped from side to side while shifting from vertical chopping strikes to a horizontal swing that used both batons like a giant pair of wooden scissors. Cole impressed himself by wedging his spear in between her weapons to stop them before they hit him on either side of his head.

“God, you’re really getting good at that,” she sighed.

The tone in her voice was something he’d been dying to hear. A bead of sweat rolled along the side of her neck and slipped between her breasts. When she caught him glancing down to follow the shimmering trail, Paige parted her lips just enough to lick them. “How about we bump it up a notch?”

“That would be just fine by me.”

She circled him in slow, sauntering steps. It was a specific movement that Cole had always cherished for the way it got her hips and shoulders moving in perfect synchronicity. She didn’t walk like that very often and it never seemed like something she was doing on purpose. Now, those movements were accentuated to dangerous levels and, for one of the few times he could remember, she was sauntering toward him rather than away.

As Paige raised her right arm, she twirled her baton in a slow circle that quickly picked up speed. She took a quick swing at him, which he blocked fairly easily. The swing didn’t end after striking Cole’s spear. Instead, Paige’s weapon bounced off his spear and immediately rapped him on the side of the neck.

“Hey, that hur—”

Before Cole could air his full complaint, he was put on the defensive again. She came at him quickly and landed a quick flurry of tapping hits against his ribs on both sides. He swatted away the flying batons before attempting to respond in kind. He landed a pretty good shot on Paige’s left side, only to have his spear trapped when she dropped that arm down and locked it in place.

Paige cocked back her right arm like a scorpion getting ready to sting, so Cole ripped his spear out of her grasp and held it so the forked end was aimed at her throat.

Paige abruptly dropped her playful smile and looked at Cole in a way that hit him like a cold slap in the face. For the first time since he’d met her, he saw fear in her eyes.

“Are you really trying to hurt me?” she whispered. “I thought we’d just have some fun before…you know.”

“Really?” Cole lowered his spear and reached out to stroke her cheek. “I would never—”

As Paige snapped her wrist, she tightened her grip upon her baton to crack it against Cole’s forearm. Before the pain could work its way up to his shoulder, the baton let out a creaking sound as it shifted to form a sharpened stake at one end and a thin, curved blade at the other. She slid her other arm along the bottom of his to lock it in place by cranking his elbow in the wrong direction.

Cole’s upper body stretched back and a pained yelp wedged in his throat as she lifted her newly sharpened baton over his chest. Blood dripped from where that weapon’s thorns dug into her palm and, using a technique that Cole hadn’t quite perfected, she willed the treated wood to stretch out just enough to touch his throat.

“If…this is because I stepped out of line…” Cole wheezed.

“This,” Paige snapped, “is because you were thinking with the short stick.”

“Ouch.”

“When you get into a fight, all you need to think about is winning. I’ve seen you hold back every now and then while we’re sparring. I’ve also seen you hold back when we’re dealing with some creature out in the world that happens to be a female with a properly rounded ass.”

Cole tried to look offended but couldn’t really pull it off.

“You want to get sweaty the fun way?” Paige asked. “Do a search for cheerleaders on your computer. You want to get stabbed, shot, sliced open, or ripped apart? Drop your guard because some girlie girl batted her eyelashes and politely asked you to.”

“So…this isn’t your version of foreplay?”

Paige’s lock on his arm tightened just enough to force a squeal out of him.

“Just kidding,” he quickly said. “I get it. You made your point.”

Slowly, she loosened her grip before finally allowing Cole to exhale. “You remember that Blood Parlor I mentioned? It’s being run by Steph and Ace. Remember her?”

“Steph’s kind of hard to forget.”

“Well, she plays up that whole sexy vampire act for a reason. If you’re going to do anything against the Nymar or anything else that’s out there, you can’t be suckered by such simple bullshit. We’re headed into some rough times, Cole. I need to make sure you’re with me.”

“If I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t be here.” Rubbing his shoulder, Cole added, “Believe me, it’s too late to turn back now.”

“That’s right. A few shapeshifters have already tracked you down, and every Nymar in Chicago knows who you are. We can’t kill them all, but we need to keep them in line. They’ve got enough supernatural tricks up their sleeves, so don’t make things easier for them.”

“This is different.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah,” Cole fumbled. “You’re…well…you. I’ve handled myself pretty well in spots where someone tried to distract me.”

“Like when we raided that club where the Nymar were feeding on college kids over on Lawrence Avenue?”

“You’re never going to let that go,” he grumbled. “Some blonde made me look away for a second, and I still managed to back you up when you shot your mouth off.”

“Barely. And that blonde wasn’t even very hot. All she had to do was flash you some fake boobs to get you to do exactly what she wanted.”

“All right, you caught me. I’m a guy who looks at women when they expose themselves. I also happen to blink before hitting them in the face. And, every now and then, I may pause for a second when a very hot blonde opens her robe and touches herself in some very interesting ways. File a lawsuit.”

“You’re not just some guy, Cole. And we’re not just some people who carry sticks. We’re doing a dangerous job and can’t afford to act like everyone else.”

“No nookie for Skinners, huh? If I’d known that, I might not have signed on.”

Even though Paige was nearly a foot shorter than him, she carried herself as if she was merely keeping her head down before making her big move. Stepping up to him, she said, “It’s got nothing to do with nookie and everything to do with expectations. Have you seen any other Skinners around here checking out the hot Nymar babes?”

“Ever since Prophet left, I haven’t seen any Skinners at all.”

“Prophet doesn’t count. At least, not completely.”

“Then I guess I haven’t seen anyone but you.”

“Exactly,” Paige said. “As far as I know, we’re the only ones within four states who think of vampires and werewolves as something other than characters in one of those games you design. The only thing keeping all Skinners alive is the fact that nothing out there knows the whole story about us.

“If the Nymar knew how few of us there are, they’d pull themselves together and take us out. If they knew they could get one of us into bed or hooked on God knows what they’ve cooked up in their drug labs, we wouldn’t stand a chance in hell of keeping them in their place. We’re a threat and a mystery to them. The second we become something less than that, we lose our fight. Understand?”

He let some of his pride go along with the breath he’d been holding and said, “Yeah. In my defense, though, I’ve been taking a lot of bumps to the head. That could explain some dumb behavior.”

“And maybe you’d get hit less often if you didn’t tap away on that computer when you should be practicing.”