Courts and Cabals 2 by G.S. D'Moore (best novel books to read .txt) 📕

started to defend myself, but was drawing a big blank. I didn’t remember getting plastered, but most people didn’t when they got black-out drunk. “. . . yeah, I guess I did,” I sighed dramatically. “But don’t worry, that’s not on you.”

“You do remember I’m the one that taught you to fight,” Xamira’s face hardened by the second. “The critique Peter gives you will be a reflection of me and my skills.”

My temper wasn’t exactly cool this morning since Dani tossed me on the floor as casually as she took her morning dump. “What the fuck does it matter?” I snapped. “You helped me beat a fucking troll. From what I understand, a bunch of the imps here probably couldn’t have done that; so, everyone can suck a dick for all I care.” I huffed, I puffed, and I deflated under the weight of my own anger.

“Seems like someone isn’t getting enough on the regular,” Dani stated. “I’ll talk with Lilith.”

“Ugh!” I growled, but it did nothing to intimidate the ladies. It was tough when they had already seen my O-face.

“Dupree!” a voice boomed across the space, and the other imps stopped what they were doing for a moment to watch. “Front and center.”

“I’m not some fucking soldier . . . front and center my ass . . .” I mumbled under my breath as I left the dwarf and imp to plan on who would milk my balls later.

“Reporting as ordered, sir,” I snapped off a shitty salute, and Peter frowned at me.

He didn’t mention my scruffy appearance, ratty clothes, or the cologne of day-old wine and stomach acid that wafted off me. He stood tall and strong, his overly-muscled chest bare, a black belt around his waist, and loose white pants that looked like something Ralph Macchio would wear. He looked ready to train, and I looked like shit.

“I’m here to evaluate your skill level,” he began. “I understand you’ve had a few months of cabal training, and I will determine how much more you’ll need.” It was clear he didn’t think I was up to the cabal’s standard. “It is important that you can not only defend yourself, but the harem as well. As the First, you are the last line of defense for Lilith, but you are also a potential weakness. Someone may use you as a way to hurt Lilith, and you need to be able to take care of yourself.”

“You’re speaking to the choir, buddy,” I kept the remark to myself.

That’s what the entire last few weeks of my life had been. Sure, Aveena was pissed at me fucking up her Fae banging ceremony, but it all started to go downhill when Lilith stepped in. When I tried to make peace, Aveena even said she wanted to hurt her half-sister. Peter didn’t need to tell me about people using me to get to Lilith, I’d already lived that.

“Prepare yourself. We will begin in five minutes,” Peter ended his little speech, and I started to stretch. I didn’t want to pull my groin or any other important part of me. After all, Dani and Xamira were planning on someone fucking me later, and if I was being honest with myself, I needed a good release.

Five minutes came and went, and I faced off against Peter. Xamira acted as the referee, and waved us into action. I didn’t hesitate. I’d been playing defense for so long, I just wanted to be the first to hit somebody. I sprang forward and lashed out in a combination just like the imp taught me. I was quick and controlled, I didn’t overextend and set myself up to be dismantled, and I did my damned best to hit the Pegasus in his perfect, Ken-doll face.

Of course, I couldn’t. He was a twenty-five-hundred-year-old, rare shifter, from a begotten age of magic, who could fly and had a fucking horn that grew out of his head. He evaded my strikes while using the least amount of energy possible. It was infuriating because that meant I was missing him by inches. I could feel the almost-sensation of our skin touching every time my fist flashed by his face. He backed up as I continued to drive forward, and I knew he was looking for an opening. Just like with Ser Fredrick, I knew one hit from Peter and I’d be down, and in a real fight, dead.

Good thing I had some tricks up my own sleeve. I fell into the zone sometime around my third combination and my sight flared to life. I knew I was safe on the attack until it flared a warning. I threw myself to the side an instant before Peter struck. He would have knocked my head off if he hit me, but I executed a textbook combat roll and came back up on the balls of my feet to press the attack again.

“So, it’s true,” he wasn’t even breathing hard as he moved around my strikes like a stream around a rock. “I wasn’t sure I believed the reports Xamira was sending.”

I heard a scoff from our referee just before another warning flared in my mind. This time, it was accompanied by the aura of what was to come. Now, I was on the defensive. I knew Peter was pulling his punches; still, he made Muhammed Ali look slow and clumsy. Getting hit would hurt way more than a bee sting. I managed a solid defense; falling into a rhythm that felt second nature. I hadn’t fought in what felt like an eternity, but the death of the troll wasn’t even a week ago. If anything, I was more rested and confident than before.

If I was a proper supernatural, that might have been my undoing, but I’d spent too much time as a vanilla human. When us mundanes got overconfident, someone always brought us down to size. I don’t