Spade didn't miss Lia. He tried not to even think of her because when he did, it was as if two halves of him fighting against each other. On one side, he wanted to lean close to his fastest horse and fetch her back from Crispin; the other side wanted her to stay there forever and let him have a life without the problems she gave him.

But deep, far back in his mind, he knew he didn't mind the problems. They weren't even really problems, just more evidence of her wonderful presence in his life.

These thoughts confused him so much that he preferred not to think of them at all. Instead, he went about what had been his business before Lia, business that consisted of worrying about a lot of other peoples' lives and little of his own. A sad existence, really, in which he gathered no pleasure from women and no satisfaction from his work. His guests faded into the background of his concentration and Spade only hoped that their extended stay was continuing to be comfortable.

He received no word of her from Crispin as the month went on. He didn't need a word.

Lia

I didn't see anyone but Bones during my training. Orion had been led off by a nameless stable boy at my arrival and the maids came during my training. I grew used to the isolation in the first few weeks, although at times it seemed easier to be alone in my room than with Spade's best mate.

It was difficult to live with Bones; his taunts stung me and his knives stung even more. When he announced upon my arrival that we would be starting with physical training, I wondered what other kind of training he could possibly mean. When the month that I was staying with him passed, I still didn't know.

My training seemed to progress quickly. Exhaustion was my constant companion. I rose each morning before dawn and fell on my bed long after midnight. But I was getting better. After three weeks I was able to land a glancing blow on Bones, but he let nothing out but more smarting remarks. Still, he encouraged my unique fighting style and developed it until, by the time I was due to return, I could almost land a knife on him.

One morning, I was swaying unsteadily in our training room, feeling the pangs from my woefully empty stomach. The large room was dark and I barely heard the small thump as someone dropped down behind me. I spun around and caught the glimpse of a knife as it flew in a wide arc toward me. I bent back and felt the blade skim the fabric of my tattered waistcoat. Bones continued in a stunningly fast flip that ended with a fist shooting out to my face. I spun to face the opposite wall and caught his forearm in my own hand. Before he could yank it out of my grasp, I turned his own weight against him and spun him around me. I gave his arm a last twist and he rolled gracefully to the floor. I reached for the knife in his hand, but he flipped the blade and I grasped the sharp edge instead. Blood began to flow as I flicked the knife back around and tried to wrap my damaged fingers around the hilt.

Bones tugged me toward him with the hand I still had clenched around his arm and I fell upon him with a muffled thud. He reached up with the other hand and caught my blood-stained wrist.

"You're getting better," he chuckled. "Although catching the sharp end of the poker there was not a smart move." I fumed wordlessly as he continued. "I sent a letter to Charles today. You're staying with me at least another month. We'll continue with physical training for the next two weeks and we'll move on for as long as we need."

"But isn't he expecting me tomorrow? That letter won't reach him for another week."

Bones shrugged. "It'll reach him sometime soon, Angel." I disliked his name for me. It was mocking, coined after a comment he'd made at the beginning of my training: "Well, aren't you just a pretty little angel of death." It had not been my best attack upon him. "But this situation here-" he nodded down at the fact that I was lying atop him, my legs parted to straddle his lean hips-"allows me to introduce the next bit of your training. You need to know how to bend a man to your will. Mixing your-" he smirked, -"feminine charms with your fighting will be necessary."

"Just two weeks with it, though?"

"You're not an innocent. It will be easier than if we had to start at the beginning."

I raised an eyebrow. "Then what?"

"Then we'll go straight into emotional training. How to keep a man occupied without a knife."

I nodded and began to feel the awkwardness of our position. I shifted around, but stopped when I saw Bones' eyes darken and begin to swim with green. I decided to try a bit of our new training.

I wriggled against him in a way that I knew drove all men crazy. The green brightened in his irises, and I drew closer. Bones rose up and kissed me. It was surprising, but I managed to kiss him back and keep my head. He kissed differently than Spade.

Our tongues tangled and he rolled me over to my back. I used the movement to disguise my arm, bringing the knife up to his throat. My bloodied fingers brushed his bottom lip just as he gently bit mine, and he grinned and licked the redness off as he pulled back.

"Good," he said. "For a beginner. You'll get better, I'm sure. That snog was something, though. I can see what Charles likes in there."

I didn't blush, but I could tell that he was baiting me. Instead of actively retaliating, I leaned forward and pressed the knife closer to his throat. "Can you really?" I whispered, brushing my lips over his cheekbone. Then, quickly, I ducked beneath his arm and swung over him. He was left on his stomach, my blade at his neck. I crouched over him. He laughed.

"Better than I thought. I could use someone like you in my work."

I stepped away from him and he sprang to his feet, eyeing the knife still clutched in my hand. Suddenly, my hunger and exhaustion washed over me and the knife dropped from my hand. I swayed unsteadily.

"You're weak. A fighter can't afford to be weak." I focused on staying conscious as he approached me. "When was the last time you ate?"

"Two-two days ago." I stifled a yawn and he grasped my arms to keep me upright.

"Why haven't you been eating? Food has been sent up to you."

"Too tired. I go straight to sleep when I get to my room."

"Bollocks, Angel. My concern may be for your training and not for you personally, but I don't want Charles at my neck when you come back to him half dead. Or more. Now go eat your food that is doubtlessly still in your room and go to bed."

I managed a stiff nod and turned away from him.

I woke up hours later. Though I was full and rested, I sensed something was wrong. Someone else was in the room.

Seconds later, Bones dropped onto my bed. He was unarmed, but so was I. I jumped out from under the covers and swung a fist at his abdomen. The impact shook my shabbily bandaged hand and I cried out. Bones caught my arm and tugged me to the side so that he could grasp both my wrists.

"Shoddily executed, Angel. And you should have gotten me to take care of your hand."

I glared at him. "You try being woken up like that. It's not easy to adjust to."

"Then make it easy. I'm training you for all sorts of scenarios; it's your job to make it work." He brought my freshly bleeding hand to his face and inhaled deeply. "Delicious," he murmured. "Has Charles claimed you yet?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Claimed?"

A small grin graced his face. "Either drank or fucked you. It's the same both ways."

I fought a blush. "Are you going to heal my hand?"

His grin widened and quickly tore open his wrist. I hastily drank away as much blood as I could in as short a time. Not only did he kiss differently than Spade, he tasted different as well.

"So, which one was it?"

His question surprised me. I thought he'd dropped the subject. "Wouldn't you like to know," I purred, and sidled closer to him. Bones' hand crept off my wrist and down my leg, where he hiked my calf up to rest on his lean hip. I leaned into him. Then I whipped around, pulling him off balance. I jumped off the bed as he fell to his back. I leaned over him. "Easily distracted?"

He flipped off the bed with a grace that caught me off guard. "Ah, Angel, I'm only playing with you. You've still got quite a bit to learn."

"Then teach me."

And teach me he did. Amidst hundreds of scrapes, cuts, and bruises, (some of them in extremely awkward places) I learned the art of sexual combat. By the end of the second week of the second month, I could disarm a man and distract him in one move. I could snake around him and slide a knife in his ribs without a single bat of my eyelashes. And speaking of batting my eyelashes, I could kill someone with that, too.

When I finished that week, Bones told me that we would be moving onto what he called emotional and verbal training.

I found it consisted of one thing: talking dirty. We would sit at a table in the training room and trade utterly explicit banter. Though I watched his irises through the whole thing, I found not a shred of green swimming through them.

I, however, was a shamefully different matter.

I was sure he could smell my wetness as he whispered in sinful tones of how he would explore every inch of me, but he made no comment on it. Sometimes, when I caught him off guard, I could see an odd expression on his face; it was an expression I often saw on Archer's face. Not lustful, absolutely not, but protective.

I asked him about it one day during our training. His face hardened and for a second I feared that I'd said the wrong thing.

"Angel," he began, sighing, "You may not know it, but you are now the purpose of Charles's life." I was unnerved by his sudden lack of cockiness. "But this may not be my story to tell."

"Please, Bones. I should be nothing to you."

His eyes flared. "You will never be nothing to me. I may not care for you as Charles does, but you, Angel, are the first thing I have ever known to lighten his heart since Giselle."

"Giselle?"

"A girl from many years ago. Charles fell in love with her and she with him. She was visiting and was killed."

I drew in a breath. "How?"

"That's as much as I will say. The rest is for Charles to tell you in his own time."

"All right. Are we going to train today?"

Bones grinned. "Of course. And you'd better not make me suspect you're thinking of anything but fucking me 'till my seed runs out, or you'll be running thirty miles before you go to bed tonight."

"It's what I've been looking forward to all day, Bones. You know you'll be begging me to stop before I let your cock dry."

"Ah, Angel, you think your stamina outranks mine…The only reason my cock will be dry is because you'll run out of juice to wet it."

I faltered, but hoped he didn't notice. "Oh, but I won't. I've still got some juice in me." I drew my tongue across my lips and left them glistening.

He leaned forward. "Thirty miles, Angel."

I swore viciously and slumped backward in my chair. "Bloody wanker," I muttered.

Bones' grin widened. "Don't need to. Now run. I'll meet you at your loop. Three laps."

I got up and slipped my boots on. "I thought we were done with physical training."

"I can't have you getting soft, can I? You're going home at the end of this week. What will Charles think if you can't run a mere thirty miles?"

I grumbled and made for the door. Fall was approaching and the weather was damp and cold.

As I ran, I tried to ignore the stones I could feel through my thinning boots. The fog made its way through my layers and chilled me until the only thing keeping me going was the idea of my warm bed back in Bones' large home. Twice he had met me at the tip of my loop. I had seven miles left to go when I heard the rustle beyond the trail. I gave up my precious momentum and skidded to a stop.

"Hello?" I called into the woods.

"Well, hello." A voice returned my questioning yell.

"Who are you?"

The owner of the voice stepped out in front of me. I spotted gleaming red hair and blue eyes. "I'd like to ask you the same question."

I ran. I couldn't outfight him, so I ran. I took a shortcut through the woods, the branches tearing at my face. My lungs started to burn as I drew closer. I sprinted the last half mile and reached Bones. He looked at me disapprovingly.

"No shortcuts, Angel. That's another ten miles."

"Bones, no," I gasped. "There's someone out there."

He was immediately alert. "Was he armed?"

"I don't think so." I gasped for breath.

"Description?"

"Reddish hair, weird blue eyes-"

Bones swore. "Ian," he said, turning away and starting towards the direction I came from. "Where was he?"

I steeled myself and began to run back to the spot I'd seen the man he called Ian. When I reached it, the man was leaning leisurely against a tree, picking at his nails with a knife.

"Crispin," he called, "Never thought you'd come. Who's your pet?"

I bristled at his words.

"Why are you here, Ian? You should have written before you decided to visit."

"I thought I'd surprise you. And you never answered my question. Who's this?" Ian nodded toward me.

"Some girl of Charles's. He left her here last visit."

I stayed silent.

"And what was she doing out here?"

Bones stepped on my foot before I could open my mouth. "She's a terrible whore. I can see why he didn't want her. Thought I'd get her to be my new protégé."

"In what, whoring or killing?"

"Both."

Ian nodded approvingly. "I've been dying for a drink since I left. Going to let me in?"

"Lets go."