Soul of a Demon (The Dark Angel Wars 2) - Page 7

Gabe pushed himself up on one elbow. “Your strength and speed were better, but you’re still reckless. What’s up with that?”

My smile dissolved. That was a hundred times better than the last twenty times we’d fought and he knew it. He was just being stubborn.

“This is your daughter?”

I heard the words spoken behind me in a heavy Spanish accent. Turning around, I realized that the Europeans had stopped to observe our fight. Their gazes swept over us as if we were animals in a zoo.

“Yes,” Luke replied. He smiled nervously at me. “And Gabe Cael is her partner. They were just matched a few months ago.”

“She needs to work on her concentration,” Manuel replied in his thick accent. “She could be a very talented warrior if she mastered her powers. I see that already. But she is sloppy.”

“Very sloppy,” Silvia added. She sounded like she was from Britain with an English accent, the kind that a proper lady would have. “She’s bound to get someone killed, fighting like that.”

Gabe slid in next to me. “She’s only been a warrior for a few months.” I could feel the protective waves flowing off of him, even though he’d been saying the same thing only moments ago. “She’ll get there.”

Silvia and Manuel both frowned.

“You are her partner?” Manuel asked.

He lifted his chin and nodded. To this day, it still surprised me that Gabe could act so proud to be my matched partner. He was amazing in every sense. I had a lot of catching up to do.

“Then you are a distraction as well. I shall take over her training for the time being.”

My mouth fell open as my eyes darted from Gabe, to Manuel, and then to Silvia’s disapproving smirk. He couldn’t do that. The Europeans had meddled with everything at the manor, but surely he couldn’t separate me from my partner. That was just cruel.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Gabe said in a growl. “I can handle it.”

“Can you, really?” Manuel stepped forward and swept his eyes over me. “From what I see, she’s only been getting worse in the week we’ve been here. I will work with her.”

It wasn’t a question, but it wasn’t really a command either. The idea that Manuel had been secretly watching me this week made me angry. What right did he have to do that? Gabe and I were just fine.

The way Gabe puffed out his chest made me think he wasn’t going down without a fight. He and Manuel stood eye to eye, each as fearsome as the next. They were both warriors with extreme clout, men born to protect and serve. Manuel appeared to be about Gabe’s age, although with Nephilim, who could tell?

“Son, it’s okay.” Luke put his hand on Gabe’s arm. His blue eyes softened. “Maybe a change of pace would be good for her.”

Gabe dropped his shoulders, defeated. My father had been his mentor practically all his life. He couldn’t go against his wishes.

“Wait just a second...” I began.

Did no one care what I thought about this plan?

“Fine,” Gabe said in a huff, cutting me off. “You train her.” He didn’t even look at me as he turned to march away. “Good luck.”

Luke hurried after him, no doubt to assure him of the Europeans’ good intentions. I wasn’t so sure about that. They seemed to make a lot of demands.

“Yes, best of luck Manuel,” Silvia added. Her eyes met mine with a disinterested shrug of her shoulders. “I’m not sure you have the time to waste on her, but that’s your prerogative.”

The rage I’d just managed to push down flared up. I wanted to drag her perfect six-foot tall body into the ring and fight it out. Let the best warrior win. Then, we’d see who was a waste.

“She won’t be a waste of time.” Manuel nodded at Silvia and the strangely silent Oscar, who’d stood a foot behin

d them. “Go on ahead without me. I’d like to speak to my pupil.”

When his friends had moved on to observe another set of warriors, Manuel lowered himself gracefully to the mat and sat with his legs crossed. I waited for him to say something, but he remained silent. Soon, the silence grew awkward, so I plopped myself on the mat in front of him.

His chin rested on his hands, as if he were meditating. Large brown eyes ringed with black lashes gazed at the mat with a disinterested fixation. I cocked my head, not sure whether to say something or keep quiet. These Europeans were so odd. Maybe this was how they trained.

“Um, Manuel?” I wasn’t sure what to call him. Trainer? Teacher? That sounded too formal, so I settled for the only name I knew for him. “Are we going to train?”

Tags: Lacy Andersen The Dark Angel Wars Paranormal
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