“And you were my enabler.”
That was also true. Aiden gave a little shrug. He didn’t think on his youth too often. First, it was too painful to remember what he’d lost with Ronan’s passing. And second, there was no rewinding time.
“True. It was always safer to follow in the wake of your destruction than to stand in your path.”
Ronan’s playful expression drained away, and he stared at the front of Aiden’s desk for several seconds, seeming to fall deep into thought, or maybe just dark memories. “You might find it hard to believe, but Hurricane Ronan ran into a few immovable objects in those first few centuries. Learned a few hard lessons.”
Aiden could almost guess. Older vampires were brutal teachers in those early years, and most vampires didn’t live to see their first century. It made him want to find Ethan and just hug the young man. As long as he remained with the Variks, Ethan would never have to experience that pain.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I don’t pretend to believe that I had it any harder than you. Life is life, even among vampires. I—” Ronan sat up and growled, glaring at the floor. He looked frustrated and maybe a little flustered as he shoved a hand through his short hair. “This wasn’t what I wanted to talk about. I…I wanted to show you that not everything has changed.”
Aiden flashed him a smirk. “You’re still a self-centered asshole?”
Ronan glared at him, but Aiden didn’t miss the hint of a smile still lurking on his full lips. “I was thinking that I could show you that I can still kick your arse with a sword.”
Aiden’s laugh rung out in the office. “Waving a sword at me is your idea of getting me to trust you?”
A full smile blossomed on his face, and he relaxed again in the chair. “Definitely not the best way to endear myself to your sons. But I procured wooden practice words, King Smartass. The worst His Highness might suffer is a splinter and a bruised ego.”
“But you’re assuming I’ve stopped practicing over the years. Maybe I’ve improved from our youth.”
“Well, you had such room for improvement,” Ronan taunted with a shrug of his shoulders. “Where I, on the other hand—”
Aiden shoved to his feet and started to shed his suit jacket. “Fetch your toothpicks, you man-child.”
Ronan giggled, actually giggled like an excited child, and jumped to his feet. He hurried out of the office, and Aiden followed behind him to find a wrapped bundle waiting by the front door. Ronan scooped up the bundle and tore away the plain brown paper wrapper to reveal a pair of pale wooden swords that vaguely resembled broadswords. It had been a bit since he’d last wielded a broadsword. Over the years, he’d tended to favor more of a rapier. The lighter weight lent itself to quick and more deadly moves. And with vampires, speed was everything.
Hesitating as he debated the various rooms, Aiden finally led Ronan up to the library on the second floor. They pushed the various chairs, couches, and tables to the fringes of the room, leaving a large open floor. To Aiden’s pleasure, the chair that served as his throne was still in the ballroom they’d set up for the party. He didn’t want that reminder between them right now. For just a moment, Aiden wanted to pretend that they were simply two friends having a laugh. Nothing more.
Once the room was settled, Ronan rolled up the sleeves of his dark-blue shirt and grabbed the ends of both wooden swords, holding the handles out toward Aiden to make his selection. Aiden made a show of inspecting both swords, though it was clear they were identical, and finally selected one, earning a weary sigh from Ronan.
“Shall we lay out a few basic ground rules?” Aiden asked as he took a few practice swings of his sword. The thing felt painfully light and fragile in his hand. Little more than a child’s toy, but fine for this diversion.
“Must we?”
“I thought it best. So you can’t cry foul when I soundly beat you,” Aiden teased.
“If you feel it’s the only way you can win,” Ronan replied, deeply bowing to him, “please Your Majesty, set the rules. I can beat you with or without them.”
When Ronan straightened, the vampire found himself staring down the point of Aiden’s sword. “Rule one: No climbing on the furniture.”
Ronan laughed loudly, throwing his head back. “Fair enough. Rule two: We must keep the fight contained to this room.”
“Rule three: If you break something, you lose a point,” Aiden countered.
“Points now? How complicated are you making this little game of ours?”
“No points? How were you going to declare a winner?”
Ronan’s grin turned wicked, heating Aiden’s insides yet again with just a look. “I thought I would just beat you with my superior skill until you begged me for mercy.” His voice was sinfully low and rough, conjuring images in Aiden’s head that had nothing to do with the swords in their hands.
But he refused to be distracted.
Aiden lightly hit his sword against Ronan’s. “We shall see. On your guard, scoundrel.”
Ronan laughed again as he lifted his sword into the first position. They started slowly, trading a few light exchanges here and there as they felt each other out. A flood of memories washed over Aiden. He’d fought Ronan hundreds of times in practice when they’d been human. He’d known Ronan’s every move, technique, and weakness. And Ronan could say the same about him.
It didn’t take long to notice that Ronan was a shade faster now and lighter on his feet. When he’d been human, he’d tended to plant his feet and rely on his strength to break any opponent. He seemed to be a hair slower to react to attacks on his left side, but then, Ronan had always been a sneaky bastard. Aiden didn’t trust that his old friend wasn’t trying to lure him into a trap.
But he’d never uncover the truth if he didn’t poke at him.
Struggling to keep his expression clear, Aiden launched a brutal attack that Ronan deflected with ease, leaving Aiden overextended and battling to keep his friend at bay. Ronan laughed over the clatter of wooden swords clacking loudly against each other.
“I don’t remember you being so bold,” Ronan said. “You were always the conservative fighter, waiting for the fool to hand you an opening.”
“And I don’t remember you being such a timid fighter,” Aiden teased.
Ronan gave another playful gasp before launching a flurry of thrusts and blows. Aiden barely managed to fend them off as he laughed wildly at his friend. Ronan followed him closely around the room, finally backing Aiden into one of the large leather chairs. With a snicker, he rolled over the arm of the chair. This time, Ronan overextended and crashed face first into the chair.
Snickering, Aiden slapped Ronan’s ass with the flat of his sword and Ronan yelped.
“Hey! You said no climbing on the furniture!”
“I didn’t climb on it. I rolled across it,” Aiden pointed out.
Ronan shoved to his feet and thrust his free hand through his hair, pushing it from his face. “Oh. We’re going to play like that, are we?”
Aiden’s old friend launched a new attack, proving that he had been restraining himself in their sparring. He was faster and more dangerous than he had been in his youth. It was as if the man had lived with a sword in his hand since becoming a vampire. His new status as bloodsucker hadn’t changed his dedication to perfection with that weapon. Only Aiden’s swiftness saved him time and again.