Page 5 of Lone Star

He'd stayed for long periods in cities before; had even sprouted roots, sometimes against his will. But something about this move to Knoxville felt permanent in a way none of the other moves ever had, and for a lifelong nomad like him, there was something disturbing about that.

He’d decided to throw himself full force into molding the next generation.

“No, your feet are all wrong,” he called from his position atop a picnic table behind the clubhouse. “You’ll trip all over yourself that way.”

In the cleared-out section of parking lot where he’d laid rubber and then sparring mats, the December sunlight beat down on the sweat-glazed skin of two very different fighters.

There was Reese, Mercy’s little murder duckling. He was lean, and fit, nothing but stark, carved muscles under his clinging tank top; not the hulking brute force of Mercy, no, but quicker, willowier; a striking snake rather than a rampaging bull. Efficient, heartless, robotic: Reese was a child soldier raised with a ruthless hand. The least human killer he’d ever encountered; not brutal and mean and delighted by the kill, like some of the two-dollar Yank sickos he’d encountered in the last few years. No, hedidn’t know how to be a human. The boys were working on that, introducing him to pop culture, and booze, and, probably, as soon as he grasped the idea of it, women. But those things weren’t Fox’s worry. Fox’s job was to keep his skills fresh.

And then there was Evan.

Physically, the boys were well-matched. Evan was even a little taller; but he had no idea what to do with his long legs, and so, as usual, Reese was wiping the floor with him.

“Hand up, hand up,” Fox reminded. “Protect your–”

Reese cracked him across the jaw with the back of his hand.

“–face.”

Evan spun away from the match, hand pressed to his face where it was already reddening. “Shit! Dude!”

“What part of ‘sparring’ did you not understand?” Fox asked, dryly.

“I didn’t think he’d hit me for real!”

“When you’re out there wearing a cut, and we get into a tight spot, do you think whoever we’re fighting isn’t going to hit you for real?”

“I…” He made a face. “Fuck, I just…the other guys aren’t doing this.” He motioned toward the corner of the bike shop they could see from here, where Mercy, Aidan, Tango, and Carter were eating sandwiches at a picnic table of their own, the wind toying with the wrappers, Aidan gesticulating with his Coke can, saying something that had the others wincing and laughing at the same time.

“The other guys,” Fox said, turning back to him, giving him his best deadpan stare – one helped by the Ray-Bans he wore. “Aren’t flunky prospects. They don’t have anything to prove. You do.”

Evan muttered something petulant and stupid under his breath, and went to snag the water bottle he’d left sitting in the shade.

Reese still stood at the ready, coiled like a spring, not even breathing hard.

“Water break,” Fox told him, and the boy nodded, pushed his hair off his face, and went to get his own bottle.

Behind him, the back door opened with a squeal – Ghost would be busting someone’s ass, probably Evan’s, about oiling the hinges – and light footfalls heralded the arrival of Fox’s youngest brother. Tenny climbed up to sit beside Fox, slouching down, forearms on his thighs, relaxed, unbothered.

Seemingly so.

Everything Reese had Tenny had, too – plus the social, cultural, and governmental training to make him twice as dangerous. Reese was a bare blade, glinting, outwardly frightening. Tenny was a vial of poison, and you had no idea your life was in danger until the first drop hit your tongue.

Fox made a point of turning toward him slowly, like he didn’t care that he was an hour late to their scheduled session. Tenny wore fitted, dark jeans, harness boots, white t-shirt and a high-collar leather biker jacket so new it squeaked when he moved. His shades were aviators, his thick dark hair – the same glossy brown as Fox’s – artfully tousled, jaw shadowed with a few days’ worth of stubble.

“You look like you’re trying to land a cologne add,” Fox drawled.

Tenny shrugged and cracked his gum.

“Did you steal that jacket?”

“I bought it.”

“Did you steal the money you bought it with?”

Another shrug. He nodded toward Reese. “He’s too obvious.”

Fox knew exactly what he meant, but he wasn’t going to agree with the asshole. “We can fix that.”

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