Courts and Cabals by G.S. D'Moore (best e reader for academics txt) 📕

world-class stripper. Somehow, she grabbed my arm, and locked my torso down with her legs. Lying on her back, horizontally across my chest, she started to arch her back ever so slowly. After an inch, it became painfully obvious my arm was not designed to bend that way.

“Owww . . . fuck . . . uncle!” I cried, and she released me.

“You’re dead,” she stated flatly, and hopped back to her feet.

I took a moment to catch my breath, massage my aching head, and shake out my arm. The imp had dismantled me in under five seconds. That did not bode well for my chances against a troll knight. I tried not to, but my thoughts went to Lilith.

The succubus hadn’t cried for long, and when she finished, she acted like it hadn’t happened at all. It was a surprisingly macho move from the most feminine creature I’d ever known. Aden didn’t give me any new insights, and my bodyguards were silent the whole walk home.

Maybe it was the mark, or maybe I’d just spent more time with her, but I was starting to get a better feel for Lilith. She was still upset, and wouldn’t be entirely at peace until this was all over. That peace would likely accompany my death, but I could always pray to the gods for a miracle.

“Those righteous pricks have a funny way of answering prayers,” I stood and faced Xamira again.

The imp regarded me with barely-contained disappointment. Obviously, I wasn’t up to imp training standards. As far as humans went, I thought I was ok. I’d gotten into a few scrapes in my life. It was hard not to in an orphanage. There was a pecking order, and every time someone new arrived, it was a challenge to that natural order. Of course, I was eight, and eight-year-olds fighting is hilarious. It’s all hands and feet flailing until someone gets lucky.

I got into a few dust ups in middle school as well, but again, nothing out of the ordinary. I felt like I could handle myself. My height and weight made humans think twice about fucking with me, but being a human meant the supernatural didn’t see me as a threat at all. Until now. Now, a powerful one wanted me dead.

“Shouldn’t we be working with swords?” I asked, as I watched Xamira circling me like a shark hunting a wounded sea lion. “That’s what I’ll be fighting with.”

“Wrong,” she answered, and sprung toward me with a simple one-two combination.

She’d slowed down her speed to something approaching normal, and I was able to dodge the jabs by sliding my head back and forth. I don’t know if she did it to boost my ego, but it felt good not to get smacked down right away.

“You fight with this,” she pointed at her temple. “All fights are won and lost here,” she continued to circle.

“Ok, Sun Zu,” I rolled my eyes.

She took advantage of my glibness. She threw the same one-two jabs, but then followed them up with more strikes. I dodge once . . . twice . . . barely managed a third, and then . . .

Something violent assaulted my senses. My eyes focused on Xamira standing over me and the broken capsule she wafted under my nostrils.

“Ow,” I groaned. It didn’t take a genius to realize she’d knocked my ass out.

She pointedly didn’t offer me a hand up. She just gestured to a pair of chairs sitting at the edge of the mat. Xander was standing next to them, and he just shook his head. A sharp look from Xamira and he shrugged before heading outside. I didn’t know if the twins were telepathic. After everything else I’d seen, it wouldn’t surprise me.

We took our seats and she stared deep into my eyes. It wasn’t erotic. It wasn’t even friendly. It was the type of stare that told me to sit up and pay attention. “You’re small and you’re weak,” she began. “Against a troll, there’s a greater divide than between us.”

“Shit,” if the troll was stronger than Xamira, I’d really dived head first into an ocean of horse shit.

“The one advantage you have is speed,” she held her hands out, palms up. I placed mine above hers. I knew this game. “Don’t let me hit you.”

I’d barely even flinched when the sting of her strike traveled up my arms. I gritted my teeth and tried again. Again, I failed. We did it for about ten minutes, and I was no closer to anticipating the imp’s attack.

“Fuck,” I shook my hands out after my latest failure. When my guard was down, she slapped me hard enough in the face that I fell out of my chair.

“Don’t you ever roll your eyes at me again,” she stood over me with power surging off her. It wasn’t the same level as an enraged Lilith, but I still cowered beneath the mighty supernatural. “I’m trying to save your life. The only responses I want to hear from you are: yes, ma’am, or how high, ma’am.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I replied, and this time, she offered me a hand up.

If the last half hour was a tutorial in how utterly outclassed I was . . . message received.

“Let’s get back to work,” she rolled up her long-sleeved shirt to reveal two full tattoo sleeves making their way down each arm.

I picked out everything from flowers, to what I assumed were runic scribblings. I wanted to see more, but a flurry of fists came my way, and I was suddenly too busy.

“This is my life for the next two months,” I realized, and I was surprised to feel determination burning in my gut.

For the first time in a long time, there were other people counting on me. Of course, I was still looking out for number one; but I