"You need some water?" Lucas asked.

She looked at him. His skin, already golden from the sun, glistened with heat. The front of his T-shirt clung to his upper torso, showing off his chest even more. Sweat always did look good on him.

She glanced down at the sword. "Is there such a thing as a bastard sword?" she asked, focusing on the ghost and not wanting to think about how good he looked.

"Yeah, why?" He moved to his bag and pulled out two bottles of water. He handed her one. His hand brushed against hers. She pulled her hand back, and he must have noticed her suddenness because he frowned.

"Nothing," she said, knowing he wouldn't want to know. He didn't like ghosts. But he went into the cemetery for me, to help me. Even when at the time I was a vampire.

She put the sword down and watched it lose the golden hue.

"That's so strange," he said.

"Yeah." The bottle he'd handed her chilled the inside of her palm. She unscrewed the top and took a long sip.

They drank without talking, her mind on the ghost one second and on how good Lucas looked the next.

"You ready to spar?" he asked.

She looked at his sword and the one resting on the towel. Real weapons that could kill. A slip of a wrist and someone could be seriously injured. "I don't think so."

"Not with these. You're not ready for that." He pointed back to the towel and the wooden swords.

"With those."

She wanted to say no, but then realized the sooner she learned to fight, the sooner she wouldn't have to meet Lucas and be reminded of all she'd lost. Screwing the top on the water, she dropped it beside her sword and then picked up one of the wooden weapons. "Let's go at it."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, they were finally doing just that. Going at it. Kylie finally started to understand how to do this. Using the moves he'd taught her earlier, she was able to block most of his offenses. Most of them, but not all.

Three times he found his way around her sword and touched her chest with the wooden edge. "Two points for the teacher," he'd said each time. Then they'd go back swinging, swiping, moving back, forth, and sometimes in circles. The sound of their wooden blades clashing rang in her ears. Sweat poureddown her brow again, but she ignored it, determined to earn a few points of her own.

Watching him, studying him, she started noticing his patterns of movement. Using what she learned against him, she waited for her opportunity and then took it. She tapped his chest with her own wooden blade. Breathing heavy, she felt the sweat rolling down between her breasts. "Two points for the student,"

she said, reveling in the moment of success. As crazy as it was, she enjoyed this.

He stopped and lowered his sword. His blue gaze froze on her. He drew in a deep breath. "You have no idea how much I've missed seeing that smile."

Sobering, realizing what she'd offered him, she tapped her wooden blade to his. "We came here to fight."

He held up his sword and then went back to sparring.

"I miss you," he said, right after he stopped her blade.

She pulled back and swung her sword extra hard to the left. His wooden blade blocked it. She pulled back and then went back for more.

"You are my soul mate," he said, blocking her at every turn.

Emotion filled her chest. Some from the memory of hearing him say those words to Monique, but mostly from knowing all he had to lose. She swung harder, and her sword hit his with a cracking thud. The impact sent his sword flying out of his hand, and hers broke in half.

"You should do what your father wants. Go to Monique, agree to marry her. Get on the Council like you planned."

"I'm not agreeing to marry Monique!" he said in a stern voice. "I should have never agreed to it!"

"I think we're done," she said, her heart racing and a world of hurt sitting on her chest.

A soulful expression filled his gaze. "With sparring today, we're done. But not with each other." He went and picked up his sword and then moved back to pack their things, while she stood there, trying to get her breathing under control. He found the other half of her sword and picked it up.

She couldn't help but wonder if these weren't the same swords he and his grandfather used. And if so they probably meant something to him. Guilt filled her chest. "I didn't mean to break it."

"I know. It's okay. It happens a lot." He paused and from the look he sent her he was about to say something she didn't want to hear.

Kylie's phone rang. She pulled it out of her pocket.

Lucas frowned. "If it's Della tell her I said I'd walk you to your cabin."

"It's my mom," Kylie said as she stepped a few feet away. She pulled the phone to her ear, a bit concerned that her mom was calling during work hours.

"Hey, Mom?" Kylie said, and she could still hear her heart thumping in her ears from the exertion of the sparring match. Or because of what Lucas had said.

"Hey? That's what you're going to say to me!" her mom bit out.

"What should I say to you?" Kylie asked.

"How dare you do this to me, Kylie Galen." Her mom's tone sent her back to the time that she and her mom couldn't see eye to eye on anything-back to the days when Kylie called her the Ice Princess. She took a deep breath and told herself not to panic, but wasn't this just what she worried about? That with John in the picture the fragile relationship they had would be put in jeopardy?