“I don’t want any part of this,” Penny said, catching up to me.
“Then you should get more comfortable hanging out on your own. Co-dependency is a real issue for some, Penny.”
“Oh.” I could tell she nearly hesitated. “Is hanging out by myself an option?”
“No. Come on. It’ll be fun.”
“It almost never is!”
No one noticed me as I approached the weapons area on the side of the yard. There was a stack of wood and a chest filled with…balls? Hard rubber tennis balls, they seemed like. How odd.
I picked one up. Kind of heavy. Let’s see if it hurts.
I turned, aimed at Cole, and fired it off. He’d probably be the least forgiving of anyone in this whole practice yard. At least with me. We had beef. I planned to reignite old flames. Literally, since our first altercation had ended in me lighting his fur on fire.
The ball just barely missed his big melon.
“You throw weird,” Penny said, pushing me out of the way.
“I’m used to throwing knives. I never did get around to learning baseball.”
“Here, I’ll show you.” She grabbed another ball. “If you point with your other hand, and follow through with the throwing arm…” She turned and rocketed off a shot. It flew straight and true. “I had to learn baseball so I wasn’t made fun of. Then I was made fun of because baseball is apparently for boys, and I thought softball was just plain stupid. We have smaller hands—why should we get the bigger ball?”
The ball clunked off Cole’s head, knocking him to the side and giving his opponent a clear shot to stab him with a wooden sword. The dulled point obviously wouldn’t kill him, but it would definitely hurt.
“Do you know what you just did?” I asked with a grin as Cole cradled the side of his head. He shook his head, then snapped it back in our direction, looking at me. I pointed at Penny. “He gets real mad. He moves slowly, though. You’ll be okay.”
I grabbed a couple of the smaller practice swords.
“Wait…” Penny’s face turned bleach white, her hands now hanging loose at her sides. Sometimes she was so determined to show me up that she forgot what was at stake. I considered it my duty to remind her. “No.” She pointed at me, but her guilt was etched clearly on her face.
I laughed, picking out Roger’s tree-trunk frame amidst the reeds. “Good luck. Light his fur on fire. He hates that.”
“I’m not associated with her,” Penny yelled, and waved her hand. She shook her head for good measure, then pointed at me again. “I was forced into this friendship. If you knew me, you’d know that is entirely plausible.”
“He does know you. He’s not fooled,” I called back.
Cole started toward her.
“Tom Hanks’s doppelganger! I don’t want to fight! I’m not the fighting sort!” Penny started backing away, but I could already feel the spells stuffing the air. She was absolutely amazing under pressure, and given she had sneaky magic that allowed her to borrow the gifts of the people around her, she could use my magic to defend herself. Poor Cole. He’d learn to pick on someone his own size, and save the small, mousy types for the power hitters.
Roger took a wooden sword to his side on purpose, making the opponent commit, turning and lifting his arm so it would hit him in the thick slab of lateral muscle. That wasn’t the place you went for with a shifter like him. It wouldn’t hurt him with a practice sword, and it wouldn’t kill him with a blade. He was pure strength and power. He’d spent his life building that up just so he could withstand basic attacks. His brawn alone would make him a solid predator, but paired with his superior intellect and uncanny ability to read his opponents, it made him nearly unstoppable. It was why he was the alpha of the North American pack, generally heralded as one of the best alphas in the world. It was also why I always got a little nervous around him. But if Vlad didn’t give me pause, Roger sure shouldn’t either. I just had to rip off the Band-Aid.
“Hey, little doggy.” I whistled like I was calling him.
His focus snapped to me, and he took a jab to the shoulder without flinching. Boy did he hate when I riled him up.
“Here, little doggy, come to your master.” I whistled again, and then used air to push the fae he was fighting out of the way.
I needed to get the shifters really fighting. If these people were wary of them, all the more reason to show them what the shifters could do. Respect might come from that wariness. Or at least a hasty truce. I was no master negotiator.
Roger turned to me slowly, and a sheen of green magic flowed around his body. Good. I considered that progress.