“That’s it?” Onora asked, sounding disappointed. “Thought I’d get to see a show. You versus The Mosquito on a rooftop venue.”
Valek gestured with his bloody dagger to the four prone forms around her bare feet. “Thanks for the help.”
She shrugged. “Trapping you in a null shield wasn’t fair.”
“Are they dead?”
“No.”
“The Commander send you?”
“Yup.” Onora studied Valek without emotion. She had pulled her long brown hair into a bun on top of her head. “But you knew that already.”
“It never hurts to pretend ignorance.”
“Or to have people underestimate you.”
“Yup.” Valek wondered if that was a hint about her true abilities. He’d expected her to ambush him, not square off against him in a fair fight. That meant she was either crazy, brave or very confident. He’d put his money on confidence.
Onora stepped over The Mosquito’s sleeping goons. When she was within six feet, she pulled her daggers. Valek excelled at knife fighting, but Onora had been trained by the same teacher—and she was about twenty years younger than him.
He met her gaze. “Stay in Sitia with us. We need you.”
There was a split-second flash of hesitation in her gray eyes, and then it was gone. “I gave my loyalty to the Commander. I don’t go back on my word.”
“The Commander is not the same man I pledged my loyalty to. Even you have to admit he’s changed.” When she didn’t respond, he added, “You’re taking orders from Owen Moon now.”
“I thought only Janco talked this much before a fight.”
Valek shrugged. “Just trying to prevent an unnecessary death.”
“Keep it up, and I’m gonna die of boredom.”
Valek laughed. “Now who’s picking up habits from Janco?”
She pressed her lips together and slid into a fighting stance. He waited for her to make the first move. Good thing he didn’t blink, because when she came at him, he barely blocked her knives in time. His suspicions were correct—Onora had been hiding her skills.
This was going to be...interesting.
At five feet eight inches, Onora was four inches shorter than Valek, but she made up for her height disadvantage with speed and agility. Valek remained on the defensive as she shuffled in close, executed a flurry of strikes and danced back before he could counter. Then she switched tactics, circling him and coming in at an angle. Worry flickered in his chest.
“The Commander’s been training you,” he said.
“Yup.”
A brief stab of hurt and jealousy almost broke his concentration. While the Commander had always been willing to spar, he’d never offered to teach his fighting techniques to Valek.
Fire raced across his neck as her blade skimmed over the skin, snapping Valek back to the fight. He returned his full attention to Onora. But an impressive number of cuts peppered his arms and ribs by the time Valek had seen enough of her tactics to plan a counterattack. The next time she stepped forward, he also shuffled in close.
Valek launched an aggressive offensive of strikes with not only his blades but also his feet. His longer legs kept Onora at a distance.
She grinned at the new challenge. Grinned. Ah, hell.
He kept the pressure on her but knew he wouldn’t be able to maintain the pace for long. Already he sucked in breaths, while she appeared unfazed by the exertion. Real fear pumped through his heart.
He changed tactics again, this time trying all his tricks. He hooked her ankle and sent her to the ground. She rolled and regained her feet with ease. Valek poured on the speed and backed her toward the edge of the roof. She dodged and sidestepped.
Then he started fighting dirty. She growled, but countered. In a flash of understanding, Valek knew he wouldn’t win unless he used magic.
No.
With the last of his strength, he knocked the blades that had been aimed at the center of his chest, just wide enough to miss his vital organs—he hoped. Valek dropped his own weapons, shuffled in close and grabbed her wrists as she stabbed one blade into his shoulder and the other into his left hip.
Ignoring the explosion of pain, Valek fell back onto the roof, pulling her with him. He wrapped his legs around her torso and squeezed her to his chest. Onora struggled to free herself. He tightened his grip, making it difficult for her to breathe and proving that he’d won the bout. He didn’t want to squeeze the life out of her, but he’d do it to save his own life. Yelena and the baby needed him.
She stopped resisting. “I...wasn’t going...to...kill...you,” Onora gasped.
“Oh? You sure...looked like you...wanted to kill me,” he puffed. The pain and effort of the fight had caught up to him.
“I wanted...to...see if I...could beat...you.” She relaxed. “I can’t.”
Valek eased up on the pressure but didn’t let her go. “You came closer...than anyone. Only the Commander...has beaten me one-on-one.” He considered her earlier comment. “If you weren’t going to kill me...then what did you plan to do...when you had your knife at my throat?”