Page 8 of Claim of Blood
As Leo moved to reset his position, his foot caught on something—Max’s outstretched leg. He stumbled, and Friedrich’s sword struck his thigh. Hard.
“Four-two, still my favor,” Leo ground out.
“That’s cheating,” Felix protested from the sidelines. “Max tripped him!”
“A hunter must be aware of all threats,” Stefan called dismissively. “The field is never fair, Felix.”
Friedrich’s expression darkened. He nodded almost imperceptibly to Will and Max, who both drew practice swords from behind a nearby bench and moved to flank Leo.
“What is this?” Leo demanded, backing up to keep all three in view.
“A more realistic scenario,” Friedrich replied. “Enemies rarely attack one at a time.”
Leo knew he was outmatched, but surrender wasn’t an option. He quickly shifted to a defensive posture, practice sword held before him as he backed toward the edge of the clearing. Three against one meant no recovery time between attacks.
Will came first, slashing at Leo’s left side. Leo parried and spun, catching Will’s forearm with a counterstrike.
“Not part of our match,” Leo said through gritted teeth.
“It is now,” Max laughed, lunging from the right.
Leo deflected Max’s downward strike, then had to immediately block Friedrich’s overhead blow. The impact jarred his arms. He disengaged and sidestepped, trying to keep the three opponents in his line of sight.
“Too scared to fight me alone, Friedrich?” Leo taunted. “Need your sidekicks to save you?”
Friedrich’s face flushed with anger. “Shut your mouth.”
Leo caught a momentary opening and struck Max hard across the chest. Max stumbled backward, clutching his ribs as he fought to suck in a breath.
“Back off,” Leo warned. “This isn’t your fight.”
“All of us against one fairy,” Will sneered. “Seems fair to me.”
Leo’s jaw tightened at the slur. From the corner of his eye, he saw Stefan watching from the patio, making no move to stop the match.
Friedrich and Will attacked simultaneously from opposite sides. Leo ducked under Friedrich’s swing and blocked Will’s, the swords clacking loudly. He managed to drive an elbow into Will’s stomach, earning a satisfying grunt.
“Hit me, not them,” Friedrich taunted.
As Leo tried to maneuver for a strike on Friedrich, Max targeted his already injured leg, bringing his practice sword down hard. Leo’s knee buckled, and Friedrich seized the opportunity to drive forward with a vicious thrust aimed directly at Leo’s groin. Leo twisted to avoid the blow, but Friedrich’s practice sword still connected, sending white-hot pain through his lower body. As Leo doubled over, Friedrich raised his sword for a strike to the head.
Through watering eyes, Leo saw the blow coming and brought his own sword up just in time to block it. The blades connected with a sharp crack.
“Enough,” Stefan called, rising from his seat. “The lesson is made.”
Friedrich lowered his sword, breathing heavily. “A draw.”
It wasn’t a draw. It was three against one, with dirty tactics and outside interference, but Leo knew better than to argue. He straightened slowly, the pain in his groin radiating out.
“Good session,” Friedrich said, clapping Leo on the shoulder hard enough to hurt. “Maybe you’re not completely useless after all.”
The others drifted back toward the house, leaving Leo alone with Felix, who approached, concerned.
“You okay?” Felix asked quietly.
“Fine,” Leo replied automatically, though they both knew it was a lie.
“You almost had him,” Felix offered. “If they hadn’t cheated—”
