Tiger's Dream (The Tiger Saga #5)

She whipped the sword back and forth, cutting and darting, in perfect symmetry. Her hair flung out in an arc behind her, and if I could have just sat back and watched her in action, that would have been my preference. Ana was better than Kadam. She was better than me.

As a young boy, I’d watched her spar with my mother, the woman Kadam had said was unbeatable. I didn’t appreciate Ana’s skill fully then, but I certainly did now. Ana was good enough to beat my mother. As she danced around me, her deadly weapon hummed. The metallic clang of swords was like a sweet song, but it was a dangerous one, a song as enticing as the woman herself.

Ana slammed my wrist against the ground, the hilt of my sword hitting it with such power a stone shattered. I leapt, spinning over her in the air, and kicked off the wall. Speeding toward her, I angled the sword, aiming it right at her belly, but she deftly twisted as I knew she would, and I sailed past, rolling into a ready position once more. On and on we fought. The wax effigy lost arms and then a head. I clucked my tongue and teased her about disrespecting the goddess.

“If anyone disrespects a goddess, it’s you,” she panted, wiping a trickle of blood from her mouth with the back of her hand.

How am I disrespecting her? She’s the one who wanted to fight. I took advantage of her distraction and brought the hilt of my sword down on the back of her wrist. She dropped the weapon and it slid away. I was about to grab her when she twisted away in a backflip, kicking my chin in the process. When she stood again, the sword was back in her hand. “That is so typical of you,” she said. “Biting the hand that feeds you.”

“You’re getting me confused with a dog,” I said. “I’m perfectly capable of feeding myself.”

“Ah, yes. I forget how you do not need me for anything.”

Ana pressed forward again with deliberation, haranguing me with unwavering focus. I blocked her with sword and arm and legs, not really trying to win but at least endeavoring to prevent her from thrusting her sword into my heart, which she seemed alarmingly committed to achieving.

I was hoping that whatever was driving her would wind down eventually, but her strength didn’t ebb; in fact, it only seemed to intensify. If I didn’t put a stop to the fight, one or both of us might be seriously injured. After she nicked both of my heels, sliced open my cheek, and stabbed my shoulder, I growled. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“If I wanted you dead, you already would be.”

“Haven’t I taught you by now that badgering a tiger is a foolish thing to do?”

Mockingly, she replied, “What are you going to do, ebony one? Try to pull your claws on me? Please. I know every trick you have.” She sniffed and swiped at her nose, leaving behind an appealing smear of dirt.

“Not every trick,” I muttered tightly.

“At least he would be a worthier opponent,” she continued, ignoring what I said. “But then I’d have to give you credit for trying. Which, I assure you, is something I am unused to doing.” Pacing back and forth with narrowed eyes, her sword at the ready, she spat, “Go ahead. Do it.” Waving her arms wildly, she urged, “Take tiger form and we’ll see how you fare against me then. Not that you will. No. You are far too timid for something like that. You have been chasing after mortals for too long.”

We circled each other. Something was very wrong, but for the life of me I couldn’t figure out what it was. “Lest you forget, you were also mortal once,” I said.

“So I was. But I was never weak.”

I raised an eyebrow and she snarled and struck viciously, probably assuming I was implying something about her childhood. Doesn’t she know I would never use her past against her like that? The very idea of it disgusted me.

Dodging and parrying, I defended myself against her onslaught, but it was all I could do to maintain my ground. She kept egging me on, encouraging me to fight back, but I didn’t want to hurt her, and we were both tiring, getting sloppy. She could heal with the kamandal but what if I accidentally dealt a killing blow? I’d never forgive myself.

Ana became frustrated with my hesitancy. Derisively, she pushed, “Have I mentioned lately that I think you’re getting old? The younger version of you was chiseled and broad-shouldered. I’m afraid you’ve allowed yourself to become soft. Your tiger form is rangy. You now have a distinctive double chin and your muscles are as yielding as plumped dough before baking. Also, I think your hair is thinning,” she goaded. “Perhaps it is the lack of red meat in your diet.”

I froze for a moment, stunned at her verbal ambush. Is she kidding me? Almost without thinking, I ran a hand over the top of my head and then growled when she snorted. Ana spun then, lifting her sword. She was trying to distract me by bruising my ego, and to my great consternation, it had worked.

Pressing the tip of her sword against my chest, she added, “You see? You’re no longer a match for me. I could have killed you several times already in just the last minute alone. And I didn’t even have to use my powers. That is how impotent you are.”

Holding up my hands, I narrowed my eyes and said, “You push too hard, Ana. I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours right now. I wish I did. But since you don’t seem to trust me, I think it’s best not to fight with you right now.”

“Of course you do not wish to fight,” she spat. “You want nothing to do with me. You’re a soft man who only wants to battle with fluffy words that mean nothing. You keep me close when it suits your purposes and then toss me aside when you want to be alone. I do not understand you. You sparred with Kelsey. Long enough that she became a decent fighter. Why will you not do the same for me? You owe me at least that much.”

Huffing out a frustrated breath, I said, “First of all, Kelsey wasn’t trying to kill me when we sparred. Secondly, you don’t need me to train you. You’re already better than I am. Is that what you want me to admit? That you’re more powerful? It’s a given. You’re a goddess.”

“Yes,” she yelled. “I am the almighty, untouchable goddess Durga. Too good for you to make any effort whatsoever. Where I am the ocean, other women are as trickling streams. But I ask you, where do men go to drink, the salty sea or to the fresh, nubile waters of oases that have more to offer?”

When I stared at her mutely, confounded by the turn in the conversation, she wrinkled her nose and sneered.

“I think we both know what you prefer,” she said. Looking me up and down, her green eyes glittering and raw, she finished with, “You are a coward, Kishan.”

Setting my jaw, I raised a finger, stabbing the air with it. “Don’t call me Kishan. You want to fight, Ana? Fine. Then toss aside your weapon. Let’s spar the way I did with Kells.”

“I do not wish to hear anything about what you did with Kells.” Ana hissed the last word but snapped her fingers and the swords vanished.

“Just remember,” I said, holding out my hands and circling her, “You wanted this.”

“Why take pains to give me what I want now? You never have before.”

I was about to call her impossible when she attacked. Before I knew what happened, I was flat on my back with her on top of me smacking my head down against the stone floor. Grabbing her shoulders, I spun, tossing her aside, but she quickly kicked up, and just as I stood, her foot met my gut. With a whoosh, the air left my body and I doubled over. Her knee slammed into my chin and she wrenched one of my arms behind my back.

Her hot breath tickled my ear as she said, “I told you you were getting soft.”

Something primal shifted in me and I snarled. I stamped hard on her foot and then barreled backward until she hit the stone wall. The unmistakable sound of pebbles dropping to the floor meant we’d broken more of the temple. The move knocked the breath out of her and she dropped my arm.