A blazing wall of fire flared up directly in front of the gates, and eleven riders charged out, up the ramp, and through the flames. Jasmine glowered at them. She was determined not to be impressed no matter what antics they pulled. That idea lasted all of three minutes. When the first stag beast sailed over Keilor, he raked its belly with the tip of his sword, just cutting through its rider’s girth. Jasmine thought she would have heart failure. When the rider managed to shed his saddle in mid-air, and regain his seat on his stag, she knew this was

“No! You know I’d never let that happen. They’d have to get through me first,” she vowed. “I know you’d do the same for me, too.” Jasmine smiled and looked down. “All right.” She took a deep breath. “I will try not to be so jumpy around the Haunt, but I can’t promise overnight results, ok?” She slanted a teasing look at her friend. “You could have warned me sooner, though.” She cupped her hands around her mouth and said, sotto voce, “Hey, Jasmine, watch out for these guys, because when the moons are full they turn into Wookies!” 

He took it away from her and slid his thumb against the guard. Instantly a blade of blue energy appeared, eclipsing the razor edged steel. She didn’t try to take it back, just looked it over carefully, catching his eye and nodding when she was done. The blue hummed back into the blade, and he gave it back to her. “The energy source is inside the haft. I release the beam when I slide the catch.” She looked it over a little longer and gave it back to him to be sheathed.

Jasmine creaked into her room that night and shut the door stiffly behind her. She eyed the bed and bath, debating whether or not she could stay awake long enough to soak away some soreness, or if it would be better to flop down on the bed, sweat and all, and pray for oblivion. Reluctantly, she decided on the bath. He was trying to kill her, she thought as she hobbled over. She sat down on the marble bath steps and put her head into her hands. All right, he probably wasn’t, but she strongly suspected he was trying to drive her so hard that she’d give up on learning self-defense all together. Only sheer mulishness had kept her at it for the last half hour, and when her legs had finally given out and dumped her on her b

Heat pooled in her belly and she stumbled at the sudden ache. Keilor’s head rose like a wolf scenting prey, and his nostrils flared. His eyes told her he knew, and his knowledge of her weakness made her tremble. Without a word, he picked her up and carried her the short distance to his room. The interior was dim, the furniture brown and heavy. His room was half the size of hers, yet contained a microscopic and very cluttered kitchen. The ugly quilt on his narrow bed was ragged, torn, and sliding off the naked mattress, which rested on the floor. Weapons of every description littered the coffee table, furniture, and nested in corners, along with various articles of discarded clothing.