I scowled in mock annoyance, but I couldn’t help giggling. Logan was entertaining when he was in his element, playfully confident to a point where it was almost conceited. But his little display wasn’t off-putting—especially since I’d known him to be so shy. It was...cute. Really, really cute when he was showing off. And I couldn’t help goading him.
“Pfft. I’ve seen better,” I said.
“Oh, really? All right, tough girl, show me what you’ve got,” Logan challenged, a glint in his eye.
I held his sword close to my face and inspected it. It looked different today—the blade was no longer ice-blue, but a cloudy purple, like a thin sliver of amethyst.
“Why doesn’t this look the same as yesterday?” I turned the blade back and forth as I examined it.
“It reacts to the type of demon nearby. I don’t think I have to tell you that it’s something of a—” he paused, looking around the roof before continuing in an exaggerated whisper “—magic sword.”
“The whole disappearing-behind-your-back-into-the-ether thing clued me in to that part,” I replied, clasping the handle with both hands and holding the sword over my shoulder.
“So, what do you want me to do now?” I asked, expecting to run through drills or basic maneuvers. Instead, Logan oh-so-casually commanded, “Attack me.”
“What?” I stared at him, dumbfounded, as I abandoned my stance, holding the sword at my side.
“You heard me.” He tapped the sword in my hand with the one he was holding, and a wind-chime-like ringing echoed around the rooftop.
“What are you waiting for, Paige? Take that bad boy and try to ram it through me.”
He tapped the blade again, and the handle slipped from my fingers, the sword falling on the ground.
“You want me to attack you? With a huge sword? I’m not going to do that!” I cried, staring at him in shock. “What, do you have a death wish?”
“You’re not going to hurt me,” he said confidently.
“How do you know? Maybe I’m a secret ninja.” I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow at him. “Maybe I took fencing lessons. You don’t know. I could be lethal.”
Logan flipped the sword upside down, crossing his ankles and balancing his palm against the handle like the blade was an old-fashioned cane.
“Oh, so you took Secret Ninja Fencing Classes?” He gave me an impish grin. “Haven’t heard of those.”
“Fine, I have no formal training,” I huffed, “but you didn’t know that.”
“Look, Paige, it’s not an insult to your skills. It’s impossible to hurt me with my own sword. Magic sword, remember?”
“Seriously?”
Logan nodded. “There’s no way in hell I’m going to lose my weapon in a battle and get killed with my own sword. That would just be...insulting.” He shuddered in disgust. “It almost happened once. That’s when I came up with the idea and had Rego charm the sword.”
“What happened?”
Logan shook his head. “Story for another time. But it’s a good tactic for battle. Pretend to drop it, demon grabs it—you don’t know how many demons try to take my head off with my own sword—only to let it be the last thing they do.”
He chuckled at the memory, as I just smiled uneasily. Demons trying to behead you? Yeah, that’s hilarious.
“Seriously, try to hurt me. You won’t be able to.”
I held the sword aloft and gently rapped it against his shoulder. It bounced harmlessly off his sleeve as if it were rubber.
“See? It’s like attacking me with a teddy bear.”
“A giant, magic, bloodthirsty teddy bear,” I clarified, then shut my eyes, sighing heavily. I bet those exist in the Dark World.
“Now that you know you can’t hurt me, try to get a good hit in, and I’ll block you.”
He waved the sword in the air with a flourish and held out his other hand, crooking a finger at me.
“I mean, if you think you’ve got what it takes. I know we’re on a roof, and you’re afraid of heights....”
I knew he was doing his best to taunt me, but still, I narrowed my eyes and held the sword with both hands, swinging hard at Logan’s side. With a barely perceptible flick of his wrist, he blocked me, the swords crashing with the sound of shattering crystal mixed with wind chimes.
Raising the sword above my head, I tried again, and Logan stopped my blade with a minute twist of his hand. After about twenty more tries, my arms were getting tired, and the ground around me was a tapestry of my frantic footprints in the snow. Logan, on the other hand, had barely moved from his spot.
“I thought you were serious about this,” Logan deadpanned, pretending to yawn as he simultaneously blocked what I thought was my best move yet.
“I am,” I insisted, a little breathless. “I can’t help that you’re some kind of superstrong demon-fighting hero.”
“Not a hero. Just well trained, that’s all,” Logan replied, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. He cleared his throat and assumed a more serious tone. “I think we should focus on how to block. It’s not like you’re going to be infiltrating hives of demons anytime soon—you just need to know how to defend yourself.”
He took a step back, biting his lip as he studied me.
“You’re holding the sword all wrong,” he finally decided, slipping my sword into the invisible case behind his back before crossing the few feet to stand in front of me.
“Do you mind?” he asked, holding his palms up.
“No,” I replied, not quite sure what he was getting at. And then he stood behind me, placing his hands on my hips. I was surprised that he asked for permission to touch me, considering all the hand-holding we’d done yesterday—but then I reminded myself that he’d merely been trying to keep me from bursting into flames. Still, I jolted slightly at his touch.
“Relax, Paige. Your stance is too rigid,” Logan said, his voice in my ear. “Bend your knees.”
I did as I was told, and Logan put his hands on my elbows, sliding his palms down my arms, until his hands covered mine, lacing his fingers through mine.
“You’ve been holding the sword over your shoulder like it’s a baseball bat. You’re not trying to hit a home run.” Logan chuckled, and his breath tickled my ear. He pulled my hands lower in one decisive move.
“You want to protect yourself. The goal is to deflect my blade. You don’t have to do big, elaborate gestures, okay?” He guided my hands, slicing the blade through the air with deliberate, swift movements.
“Got it?” Logan asked, and I nodded stiffly, hyperaware of his chest being pressed against my back. Logan stopped moving the sword but didn’t step away, keeping his arms around me, his hands over mine. I felt my heartbeat quicken, not sure if I liked him being so close—or if I was unnerved by it. The relief and disappointment I felt when he stepped away told me it was a little of both.
“Now, try to block me.” Logan was facing me again, holding his weapon in the same deadly stance I’d seen him take in the classroom the day before.
“Don’t worry—this is your sword, so the same rules apply,” he reassured me before lightly whacking my arm. The blade painlessly bounced off my arm, and I yelped.
“Are you okay?” Logan asked, his eyes wide with concern.
“Yeah—just surprised,” I admitted, embarrassed.
“I’ll go slower,” Logan promised, but I shook my head.
“No—a demon wouldn’t. Don’t go easy on me.” I held my sword in the position Logan had taught me, and struck out at him. He blocked it, of course, but offered an approving, “Very nice.”
“I’m a quick learner.” I smirked, striking again as our blades collided with a deafening crystalline crash.