I grunted.
Heven stopped just feet away from us, placing her hands on her hips. Her hair was windblown from her running and her cheeks were flushed. “Are you two still fighting?”
“Training,” I corrected.
“Aren’t you exhausted?”
Actually, I was, but I wouldn’t admit it. I was going to be sore tomorrow.
“We’re done here,” Gemma said, getting to her feet. “You did a good job.”
I stood and swept Heven up in my arms, inhaling the sweet scent of her hair. She squealed and pounded me on the shoulder. “You smell and you’re all sweaty. Put me down!”
I made sure to run my sweaty forehead against her cheek and she laughed. “You are so gross.”
I laughed and sat her down. Gemma began gathering weapons and tossing them in the bag and I helped her.
Heven’s eyes widened. “Did you use all this stuff?”
“Some of it.”
“So when are you going to teach me how to fight?” Heven asked Gemma who stopped picking up weapons to look at her.
“You really want to know how?” she asked.
“I really do,” she said. “You probably don’t know what it feels like to be weak.”
Something passed over Gemma’s face, but then it was gone. She looked down at Heven and I could almost see her giving in.
“She can’t train you and me at the same time,” I said, interrupting the conversation. It wasn’t that I wanted Heven to be unprotected, to not know how to defend herself, but I didn’t want her to get hurt and Gemma was not the person to be training her. Heven wasn’t strong enough for the kind of fighting Gemma did, which was so far advanced that Heven would only get hurt and frustrated. Besides, we were leaving for Italy in a few days and we didn’t have time for this.
My comment was enough to break whatever Gemma was thinking. “He’s right. You’re not ready.”
Heven growled in frustration. “Why does everyone want to treat me like I’m weak and helpless? I’m not.”
“No one said you were weak and helpless, Hev.”
Heven turned her back and began picking up more weapons. I was about to give in, to offer to train her myself when Gemma launched herself at me, thinking to catch me off guard.
This time I was ready.
I sent her flying backward and she grabbed the nearest weapon, a knife and threw it at me. I caught it before it buried itself in my chest.
“Nice,” Gemma said.
“Are you two crazy!?” Heven yelled. “What if he hadn’t caught that?”
“He did.” Gemma said, shrugging.
Heven opened her mouth to say more when another voice called out. “What the hell is going on here?”
All three of us whipped around to see Cole striding forward between rows of budding fruit trees. I was surprised to realize that I didn’t hate him as much as usual. Knowing that he was Heven’s brother softened some of the anger I had toward him. At least this way, I wouldn’t have to worry about him trying to kiss her again. On the other hand, there was no getting rid of him now. He was family, a permanent fixture in her life. I knew how important family was—especially brothers, so I had to figure out a way to get along with him.
“You came back!” Heven exclaimed, running to him. She hesitated for a few seconds when she reached him—not sure if she would be accepted by him. Is that how Logan felt when he first got here? Had he been afraid I wouldn’t take him in?
Cole opened up his arms and pulled Heven in for a hug. I still didn’t like when he touched her. “I told you I would,” he told her. “What’s going on out here?” Cole asked again, pulling away from Heven.
She pretended not to hear him ask. “Want to go to the house and see Gran?”
“I already saw her.”
“Oh.”
Cole stepped away to toe the now half-empty bag of weapons on the ground.
“Who’s this?” Gemma asked, appearing beside me.
“This is my friend Cole we told you about,” Heven responded, probably afraid of what I would say.
“This is Cole?” Gemma’s wide gray eyes appraised him.
Cole took notice and stood a little taller, turning toward us. His blue eyes narrowed on Gemma. “Who are you?”
“Cole, this is Gemma. She’s a friend of ours,” Heven said.
He took in her snug, curve-hugging outfit and knee-high brown leather boots. He noted how every inch of her was strapped with some sort of weapon and his eyes settled on her hand, which was clutching a bow.
Cole reached over and tugged an arrow out of a tree. “I think you lost something.”
Was he fighting a smile?
“Nope. I put it there,” Gemma retorted.
Cole’s lips lifted.
I stepped between the pair to tell Cole, “You should go back to the house.” He’d already seen way too much.
Cole’s eyes hardened when he looked at me, taking in my missing shirt, various scrapes and bruises and my grass-stained jeans. “What have you got my sister involved in?”
Beside him Heven beamed because Cole acknowledged her as his sister.
“Sister?” Gemma said, sharply.
Heven turned toward her. “We just found out that Cole and I have the same father.”
“That would explain it.” Gemma nodded.
“Explain what?” Cole asked. All three of us looked at Gemma.
She shook her head and muttered. “Mortals.”
“What?” Cole asked.
Gemma turned toward Heven. “Isn’t his aura different than everyone else’s?”
“Yeah,” she answered, her eyes widening.
“Aura? What is she talking about, Hev?” Cole was becoming alarmed. Great, the guy was probably going to start asking a million questions.
Heven didn’t seem to notice and kept talking to Gemma. “It always has a huge balloon of magenta. Pink and purple swirled together. No one else I’ve met has that color permanently; it’s only in short bursts and the color rarely mixes together.”
“Somebody better start explaining.” Cole said and grabbed Heven’s wrist.
Something in me snapped. He might be her brother, but he needed to keep his hands to himself. I yanked him away and we went rolling in the grass. Cole landed a solid punch to my jaw and Heven called out. We ignored her and continued fighting. I had been wanting to hammer this guy for months now. I tossed him off me, enjoying the sickening thud his body made when it hit the ground, and then I pounced on him, landing a punch to his jaw.