“I want to see what you can really do.”

Helena looked up at Owen from where she was going through the registry of her coven, seeking out each of those under her protection and ensuring they were safe.

It was easier here, out in her well-fortified country estate. It burned to evacuate her covenhold in the city, but she had nearly a dozen fledglings in the coven at the moment, and they simply could not be risked in the coming war.

And so she gave the order. Move out, into the country estate, and regroup. Many of the other Elders were doing the same.

“What in the world do you mean?” She asked, but traced her fingers over his wrist and his pulse. It was as steady as always, which always made her smile. He truly had no fear of her whatsoever. “You’ve seen me fight. In fact, you’ve seen me kill two Elders in the time we’ve known each other.”

“But I’ve never sparred with you,” Owen said, and leaned his hip against her desk, eyes bright with enthusiasm. “Closest we’ve come was when we met, and I was half-dead at the time.”

It was true, and Helena considered it as she realized he was serious. “I could easily hurt you. I’m much stronger than I look.”

“So am I, and I don’t usually cut loose. Don’t usually need to.”

He was fast, for a part-Other human, and strong.

And he had fought Elder Vampires before, and won. Henri was older, and more powerful, than she was, and was surrounded by his Coven at the same time.

Perhaps they deserved a little fun.

“Alright,” she agreed, and set her papers aside. Some exercise would do a great deal to clear her head, and it was always a pleasure to watch Owen train. It would be better yet to spar with him properly. “Down to the training courtyard. Do you want your guns first?”

“I don’t want to shoot you,” Owen protested even as he fell into step with her. “This isn’t that serious.”

“You can not possibly plan to take me on bare-fisted,” Helena told him flatly and directed a very judge mental glance at him. “It would be very difficult for you to cause me any lasting damage.”

He considered that u til they were almost down to the courtyard. “If we’re playing with live fire, I want you to feed from me again after. If you’re okay with that, anyway.”

The offer took her aback, but she couldn’t deny that it was an appealing thought. He probably didn’t know that it was often done that way in covens, to promote bonding and ease any lasting resentment in the looser.

“Oh, twist my arm,” she teased him, and was pleased to see him relax slightly. “Although we may have to discuss that later, if my feeding on you becomes a regular habit.”

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“Why?”

“Because prey is prey and may be killed by anyone, but the murder of a claimed human, a pet or a lover most often, is cause for a blood feud.”

She hadn’t decided if she liked him enough to call Feud over his death, but the fact that she was even considering it said some things about their fledgling relationship.

“Huh,” He said, and ducked into his room for his guns. Helena was interested to note that he felt safe enough within the estate to leave them locked up. “Is this like the monogamy-talk in a new relationship?”

“Something like.”

The training courtyard was full when they arrived. No surprise. Everyone was feeling the strain of the ongoing war, and took to the ring to burn some of their energy off safely.

“I need the ring,” Helena said as they walked over, and she smiled as all the sparring partners quickly darted off the packed dirt and up into the protected risers well above. Safe, should an attack go astray. “Are you ready?”

Owen dropped his coat on a bench, and rolled his shoulders. “I’m ready. How do you want to do this?”

“Until yield?”

“I can do that.”

Helena toed off her expensive, red-soled heels and stood barefoot in the dirt. It was just as well that she was dressed comfortably, heels notwithstanding.

A bell chimed overhead, and Helena lunged forward, faster than the human eye could follow. After all, her strength and speed were her greatest assets, and she had centuries of practice.

But Owen was clever, and he had fought plenty of vampires in his time. Rather than try to aim at her, he fired off three fast shots of his shotgun at the place he thought she was about to be.

It worked. She hissed as silver pellets buried themselves in her arm, even as she dodged under and around the worst of the damage.

Of course, half a shotgun shell would never be enough to slow her down. Owen flew as she slammed into him, open-palmed blow, more of a calculated shove than anything. It wouldn’t do to cave his rib cage in.

Not that it would be easy. His aim improved sharply as she paused, and he fired off two more shots before he hit the ground, rolled, and came up already aiming.

“You’re fast,” Helena whispered into his ear, pushing her speed to the limit to get behind him. “But not fast enough.”

Owen replied by stabbing her twice in quick succession before she could punch him off, and threw himself backwards to avoid her claws. For a moment they both froze, she licking his blood off her talons, and he checking to see how damaged he really was.

Not enough to stop, or even slow him. She appreciated that about him even as her coven began eagerly betting on the outcome of the match.

Some of them were betting on Owen. Helena wasn’t sure whether to be amused or annoyed.

She settled on amused when Owen unceremoniously chucked a handful of glass orbs at his own feet, and vanished in plumes of harsh smoke.

Helena darted through the smoke, and muttered a curse when more bullets, this time from his handguns, cracked through the air where she had just been.

When she tried to scent him, she realized the real purpose of the smoke. It was so harsh in her nose that she couldn’t smell anything else.

His heartbeat was quick, but steady, and no matter how good he was, he couldn’t hide it.

In a blink, she was on him, rolling across the dirt until she straddled his chest, her fangs a whisper over the tender skin of his throat.

“Yield,” she whispered, and strangled her own instincts to bite down and drink him dry. “I have you now.”

“Good match,” he breathed back, heartbeat faster now, and let his guns fall out of his hands. “I knew you were good. Now I know how good.”

“And are you satisfied?” She purred, and forced herself to get off him while her coven cheered around them. “Are you pleased or afraid?”

“Can’t it be both?” He grinned rakishly up at her and got to his feet. “But satisfied? Not nearly.”