Page 148 of Harbinger

He lunges without warning. Our blades crash together again, locked high between us, so close I can see my own warped reflection in his steel.

“Are you going to start coming up with better questions?” The silver in his eyes catches the light, his gaze as sharp as his blade—and entirely on me. His breath ghosts over my cheek, steady where mine isn’t.

My grip tightens as I lift my shoulder in the barest shrug, not daring to reduce the strength I have behind my weapon. “I think I have it figured out.”

“Really?” His forehead jumps an inch, his mouth tugging just a little at the corner. But it’s the way that his eyes brighten slightly that sends my heart spiraling in my chest. “I’ll tell Hadrian he can stop with all the research.”

I lift my arm for my next strike, but he spins behind me in one smooth motion.

There’s a sword at my throat. How in seven hells did he do that?

His body is so close that if I lean back, I’ll practically be in his arms. But his blade doesn’t move, so neither do I.

“Being distracted will get you killed,” he murmurs in my ear, and it’s everything I can do not to lean against his lips. “You can’t let your opponent into your head.”

It’s not like anyone else could get this close. I doubt that the next person who attacks will have this effect on me.

Just Bishop.

I can’t decide if that makes him the worst person to train me or the best.

Facing someone who wants to kill me has to be easier than this.

Because this? This is dangerous. Whatever it is.

“I doubt my opponent will make me defend for six hours straight.”

He shifts ever so slightly, and his chest presses against my shoulder blades, right where my armor dips. The contact sends a shiver through me that has nothing to do with the cold—or the sword at my throat.

I scrounge up what little self-control the Stars have apparently gifted me and ignore the heat blooming where he’s barely touching me.

“Are you complaining?” There’s a wicked undercurrent in his voice that sends that delicious tremor racing lower.

“Me?” I feign innocence. “I wouldn’t dare.”

His soft laugh tickles my earlobe, and fuck, I’m distracted again.

He finally drops his sword, but he doesn’t move away for a beat, like maybe he doesn’t want the distance between us, either. I start to turn just as he finally steps to the side.

So much for that theory.

Before I can even reset my stance, he comes at me again.

I counter by spreading my feet wider, the better to absorb the force of his big swing, but the paving stones underneath me are slick, this morning’s rain turning to ice as the temperature drops, and as soon as Bishop’s blade meets mine, my feet shoot out from under me, one in either direction.

I go down hard on my butt, my teeth rattling inside my head.

I should have seen that coming.

He slides his sword into its sheath and leans down to offer a hand up. “Ready to hit the baths now?” he asks with the most infuriating half smirk, something wicked blazing in his eyes.

My body warms up instantly as if, despite being nearly frozen, it appreciates that he’s practically smoldering.

Not the time.

Not when my shoulders and my ass are having a furious fight for top billing as the body part most likely to kill me.

But the way he’s looking at me … Void swallow me.