“I know you have to hold back with… so much. I don’t want that forever. I want to be your partner. Your equal. I don’t want to live a life separate from you, even in the hard things.”
She pulled away and stroked his cheek as he looked at her.
In five hundred years of life, he had rarely met a human more stubborn or independent than Beatrice. It wasn’t a foolish kind of disregard; she simply took her time to make up her mind, and when she did, she was determined. And he loved her for it.
“We’ll talk about it more later.”
That didn’t mean he wasn’t just as stubborn.
He felt her small elbow in his ribs, but she turned back to the mat, watching Tenzin and Baojia as they practiced with their chosen weapons. Eventually, they bowed toward each other in the way common among older immortals, bending from the waist while never breaking eye contact, arms outstretched so that all weapons were visible.
They began circling from their bow, both eyeing the other as Baojia murmured instructions to Tenzin about the techniques he wanted to demonstrate. Tenzin held the jian high in a pointed stance while Baojia’s arm came out and his elbow pulled the dao back as if preparing to strike. They began moving in concert, demonstrating the most common strikes for each weapon as Baojia narrated to Beatrice what they were doing with each thrust or parry.
Giovanni glanced at her as she sat on his lap. She was completely enthralled. Her eyes lit up and she leaned forward, her complete focus on the two masters in front of her.
“This is so cool.”
He saw them relax into the combat, and they began moving in more natural fight patterns for immortals. Baojia would use the water as a second weapon, sweeping his arm out to spear it in Tenzin’s direction as she leapt into the air, dodging out of reach. At one point, Baojia sent a thin stream of water toward her as she flew above his head. The silver ribbon curled around her ankle, almost too thin to see, until Baojia reached a hand out and touched the stream, sending a shock of amnis through it, which brought Tenzin to the ground.
“Oh!” Giovanni cried, leaning forward and forgetting Beatrice on his lap. He had never seen a water vampire with that kind of control. “That was brilliant! Clever dragon.”
Tenzin didn’t seem to agree; as she rose up, she snarled at Baojia before launching herself into the air again. Baojia smirked, but Giovanni knew the vampire would only be able to use that trick once.
Not long after, they began to vary their routine, tossing weapons back and forth, calling out to Beatrice as they did, explaining each one as they demonstrated the proper way to use it.
Swords, pikes, axes, chains, daggers, spears, poles. Beatrice was transfixed.
“Oh,” she drew out a breath as her eyes followed Baojia, who was drawing two ancient swords from the wall. “What are those?”
Giovanni growled when he saw the two wickedly curved swords that Baojia wielded. They were the length of the jian, but each had a long hook on the end. The hilts were sharpened into daggers, and the hand guard on each was a sharp crescent moon, suitable for either blocking or slashing an opponent.
Damn, prescient vampire.
“Those are shuang gou, Beatrice. Hook swords.”
As Giovanni spoke, Baojia leapt toward Tenzin, whirling in dizzying circles toward her, as she parried with the jian and a chain, which she threw toward his neck. Baojia hooked the chain with the end of one sword, pulling it away as he slashed at the blade in her other hand. Giovanni could barely follow their movements, and Beatrice held her breath as they continued to fight for several minutes. They were a blur of movement as they spun around the room.
In one final flurry, Tenzin came to a halt, jian held out as Boajia pressed the shuang gou to her neck, the hooks curved toward her bared throat, and the blades crossed in a scissor formation.
“No way,” Beatrice whispered.
Giovanni narrowed his eyes. “It’s debatable whether she let him win, but that was still very impressive.”
“I want to learn how to use those.”
He shook his head as Baojia looked toward him and laughed. His eyes only said one thing.
Told you.
“You let him win, didn’t you?”
Tenzin shrugged as they walked through the garden. They had left Beatrice with Baojia in the training studio. His woman scarcely gave him a second glance before she rushed toward the weaponry, peppering Baojia with question after question. Tenzin pulled him out of the palace and forced him to walk through the grounds so he didn’t hover.
“Maybe. He’s very good, and he’ll be a much better instructor than I would.”
“Why is that?”
“I revert too quickly to flying, and she won’t be a flyer.”
Giovanni halted, leaning against a wall of carved stonework.
“Oh, she won’t?”
Tenzin turned and smiled, her face a picture of innocence.
In the back of his mind, Tenzin had always been Giovanni’s first choice to sire Beatrice, though he knew Beatrice and Carwyn had discussed it, and the choice was Beatrice’s in the end. Still, there was no one he trusted more than the small woman in front of him. Tenzin was his oldest friend, and she had one other advantage that Giovanni greatly desired.
Tenzin was immeasurably powerful.
She had lived for over five thousand years, and as far as he knew, she had never sired a child. Her blood would be unspeakably potent, and any vampire child she sired would be a force to be reckoned with. If Giovanni guessed correctly, Beatrice turning from Tenzin would put her almost immediately on par with his own physical strength. She would quickly outstrip him, but she would be able to defend herself from almost any other immortal, and that was all he cared about.