“Shall we lay out a few basic ground rules?” Aiden asked as he took a few practice swings of his sword. The thing felt painfully light and fragile in his hand. Little more than a child’s toy, but fine for this diversion.
“Must we?”
“I thought it best. So you can’t cry foul when I soundly beat you,” Aiden teased.
“If you feel it’s the only way you can win,” Ronan replied, deeply bowing to him, “please Your Majesty, set the rules. I can beat you with or without them.”
When Ronan straightened, the vampire found himself staring down the point of Aiden’s sword. “Rule one: No climbing on the furniture.”
Ronan laughed loudly, throwing his head back. “Fair enough. Rule two: We must keep the fight contained to this room.”
“Rule three: If you break something, you lose a point,” Aiden countered.
“Points now? How complicated are you making this little game of ours?”
“No points? How were you going to declare a winner?”
Ronan’s grin turned wicked, heating Aiden’s insides yet again with just a look. “I thought I would just beat you with my superior skill until you begged me for mercy.” His voice was sinfully low and rough, conjuring images in Aiden’s head that had nothing to do with the swords in their hands.
But he refused to be distracted.
Aiden lightly hit his sword against Ronan’s. “We shall see. On your guard, scoundrel.”
Ronan laughed again as he lifted his sword into the first position. They started slowly, trading a few light exchanges here and there as they felt each other out. A flood of memories washed over Aiden. He’d fought Ronan hundreds of times in practice when they’d been human. He’d known Ronan’s every move, technique, and weakness. And Ronan could say the same about him.
It didn’t take long to notice that Ronan was a shade faster now and lighter on his feet. When he’d been human, he’d tended to plant his feet and rely on his strength to break any opponent. He seemed to be a hair slower to react to attacks on his left side, but then, Ronan had always been a sneaky bastard. Aiden didn’t trust that his old friend wasn’t trying to lure him into a trap.
But he’d never uncover the truth if he didn’t poke at him.
Struggling to keep his expression clear, Aiden launched a brutal attack that Ronan deflected with ease, leaving Aiden overextended and battling to keep his friend at bay. Ronan laughed over the clatter of wooden swords clacking loudly against each other.
“I don’t remember you being so bold,” Ronan said. “You were always the conservative fighter, waiting for the fool to hand you an opening.”
“And I don’t remember you being such a timid fighter,” Aiden teased.
Ronan gave another playful gasp before launching a flurry of thrusts and blows. Aiden barely managed to fend them off as he laughed wildly at his friend. Ronan followed him closely around the room, finally backing Aiden into one of the large leather chairs. With a snicker, he rolled over the arm of the chair. This time, Ronan overextended and crashed face first into the chair.
Snickering, Aiden slapped Ronan’s ass with the flat of his sword and Ronan yelped.
“Hey! You said no climbing on the furniture!”
“I didn’t climb on it. I rolled across it,” Aiden pointed out.
Ronan shoved to his feet and thrust his free hand through his hair, pushing it from his face. “Oh. We’re going to play like that, are we?”
Aiden’s old friend launched a new attack, proving that he had been restraining himself in their sparring. He was faster and more dangerous than he had been in his youth. It was as if the man had lived with a sword in his hand since becoming a vampire. His new status as bloodsucker hadn’t changed his dedication to perfection with that weapon. Only Aiden’s swiftness saved him time and again.
There was no question that Aiden was living on borrowed time. Ronan was getting closer and closer to getting his number. The smile was gone from Ronan’s face. He was all stern concentration, his whole person turned toward catching Aiden at last. If Aiden wasn’t so determined to win himself, he would have admired his friend’s dedication.
Muscles twitched and burned with exhaustion. Sweat trickled down his temple. Aiden was in danger of slowing. He needed to beat Ronan now.
He attempted a feint, but Ronan was ready for him. He caught Aiden’s sword and held him trapped, swords crossed in front of them as Ronan stepped into him.