“I may not be religious but I respect that faith is important to billions of people around the world. Putting that aside, we’re talking about a significant piece of architectural history.” She gestured around. “Training here feels wrong.”
“Which is why we’re doing it.” He deliberately misinterpreted her words.
Without preamble, Fionn swiped the air with his hands and three stained glass windows high above her shattered, the shards of broken glass flying in her direction.
Anger pulsating through her, Rose focused on the shards, mirrored Fionn’s movements, and sent the individual pieces shooting toward him instead.
With a flick of his wrist, the glass halted in midair and then whizzed back toward her. Just as she focused her magic on returning the glass to the windows, a piece she’d missed from Fionn’s initial attack sliced across her cheek.
Rose cried out at the sting, that split-second distraction causing the rest of the glass to fall to the marble floor and shatter into even smaller pieces.
Glaring at Fionn, she pressed two fingers to her cut cheek and felt it heal beneath her fingertips.
“Nice,” she snapped at him.
“I’m teaching you focus. I’m not here to be nice.” He strolled casually past, placed his hands above a section of the broken stained glass, and it rose from the floor.
Within seconds, every single piece was back in the windows, good as new.
Just like her cheek.
Rose touched it again, feeling the smooth, unbroken skin. The reminder that she was almost invincible dissolved the irritation she felt for Fionn. Her coaches had pushed her to her very limits, and that was just a sport. This was life or death, so she could forgive him for a little cut on her cheek.
Especially when she was practically unkillable.
Practically unkillable.
Feeling a buzz of excitement thrum through her, she stepped toward him. “Throw me across the room.”
His step faltered. “What?”
“With your magic. Put all your strength behind it.”
“Are you certain?”
She nodded.
With a glint in his eye, Fionn pushed his palm into the air in front of her and the next thing she knew, she was flying. The sensation so took her aback, she lost concentration.
Rose crashed into a pillar with such force, not only was the breath knocked out of her but she felt and heard a crack in her ribs. When she hit the floor with an almighty thud, pain paralyzed her.
She sucked in a ragged breath.
Then slowly, her ribs began to heal, and the pain receded. Rose lifted her head and stared across the room at her mentor. He was still as a statue, waiting for her to respond. She stood, turned, saw the crack in the pillar, and pressed a palm to the stone. Rose could feel the magic crawling up toward the crack, sewing the stone back together. No one would ever know her body had once broken a pillar in La Sagrada Familia.
So. Fucking. Cool.
Satisfied, she faced Fionn and strode toward him. Stopping several feet away, Rose braced her feet, anticipation, adrenaline, and excitement soaring through her. “Again.”
16
Something like wonder caught Fionn off guard as he stared at Rose standing before him, demanding he throw her through the air for a second time.
Exhilaration blazed in her pretty blue gaze.
Wonder mixed with pride. Pride mixed with something more primal. Something that caused a heavy, hot need between his legs.
Fuck.
When he’d decided to keep Rose at his side by pretending to mentor her, he’d expected the woman who had been raised as a human to fear her fae side, to hate it, like he did. Instead, she found joy in it.
She was a natural with her abilities.
Watching her take him on, fearless and determined, on the back of dealing with her enjoyment in flirting with him, Fionn was stuck in the most unlikely of places.
He wanted to fuck the woman he planned to use in his vengeance.
It was inconvenient to say the least.
The fact that he needed to control these wants and thoughts about her was goddamn galling. Bothersome woman. First, he spent hours deflecting her personal questions only to end up telling her all about Bran, and then worst of all, sincerely suggesting she go to Bran for help if something happened to him.
It was petty to take his frustrations out on Rose … but she did ask for it.
Concentrating a potent level of magic toward her, Fionn pummeled into her body with such an impact, he heard her gasp as she flipped backward through the air.
But something happened.
Instead of crashing into the nearest pillar or wall, Rose paused as she righted herself midflight. Then she dropped, landing like a cat, hand to the ground to balance against the disorientation caused by the church grounds.
A smile prodded at his mouth.
Damn, she was good.
With a cocky smirk, she pushed to her feet. “What’s next?”
Obviously, the woman required a true challenge. “I want you to travel to the top of one of the two tallest spires. You’re going to jump off, and you’re going to land on the ground without breaking a bone. I’ll be at the bottom waiting for you.”
He noted more than a glimmer of concern flicker across her expression. “Are you kidding?”
“Even on a still evening, you can use the wind to control the fall. Tonight there’s a breeze, so it should be easy.”
“And if I break every bone in my body?”
Fionn shrugged, knowing it would annoy her and finding a little too much pleasure in the fact. “You’ll heal within a few hours.”
She scowled. “No worries, then, huh?”
“Sarcasm is beneath you.” It was a hypocritical response since sarcasm was a second language to him, but, again, irritating her was fun.
However, this time, the last word had barely left his mouth before he found himself flying to the ground with a furious trainee fae on his hands.
Rose had been an impressive blur across the church.
Incredibly fast.
And strong.
He frowned. The little viper had smacked his head off the marble floor, and this annoyance had momentarily distracted him from the fact that Rose was sprawled atop him, straddling him, her forearm pushed against his throat. “Yeah, well, now you’re beneath me, asshole.”
This was not threatening.
This was disturbingly arousing.
Gripping her wrist in his hand, he easily pried her forearm from his throat. “What the hell was that for?” Fionn snapped, anger masking his desire.
“For not giving a shit if I shatter every bone in my body,” she hissed.
&nbs
p; Her eyes sparked fire. Her cheeks were flushed.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Fionn took hold of her narrow waist and pushed her off. Not gently.
She soared up off him but landed on her feet with remarkable grace.
He rolled up onto his and dusted off his sweater. “You’re handling the disorientation well.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“So you said,” he replied dispassionately, and then caught sight of the cracks in the marble floor where he’d landed. She’d taken him down with some force. “Impressive.” He gestured to the broken floor before using his magic to fix it.
“You know my coaches were tough on me, but they were at least concerned about my well-being.”
Exasperated, he whirled on her. “I am trying to keep you alive,” he bit out, losing his usual cool. Goddamn her. “Unless there is a graveyard of fucking pure iron spikes beneath you, I am not afraid for you if you fall from a building.” His frustrations mounting, he marched toward her and watched her tilt her chin up at him in defiance, holding her ground despite her disadvantage in height and build. “I am afraid that falling will slow you down in a fight. If someone is chasing you through a city, that city needs to become your playground. You need to learn how to fall from great heights as if jumping over a fucking puddle. Capisce?”
Anger melted from her features. Her lips twitched. “Capisce.”
“Good,” he spat and strode past her toward the main entrance. “Spire. Now. And use the shadow trick to conceal yourself. The last thing we need are photos of you on top of the fucking La Sagrada Familia circulating the internet.” He traveled outside before she could respond.
Seconds ticked by as he watched the tallest spires. The church was lit up, but the spires were less visible as they pierced the night sky. Fionn could still make out the tops of them with his fae eyes.
Impatience wriggled through him.
Uncertainty created waves of displeasure in his gut.
What if she fell?
Rose cannot die.
But she can break into a million pieces.
The reality of that caused something akin to panic. Fuck, she would fall. He prepared himself to travel to her, to stop her, but then he saw her atop one of the spires, pulling shadows toward her.