So maybe some time away from men altogether, and some solid sport that required a mind-body connection.

The sky held blue and nearly cloudless, and the sun beamed. Pleased, Riley tossed aside the hoodie she’d grabbed on the way out, stood with her hands on her hips, wearing a faded red T-shirt that said DIG IT!

It wasn’t Capri or Corfu, but this taste of Irish summer—that might actually last an entire day—just shined.

She took a running start, executed triple handsprings, stuck the landing.

Oh, yeah, she was coming back.

And Sasha didn’t suck as much as she had. Sure her landings were still shaky, but she was getting more height. Then there was Annika—nobody could come close. She might as well have wings instead of a tail.

Following Annika’s orders, Riley hit a back handspring, pivoted into a side kick. God, she wished she had someone to fight.

Annika’s next order had Sasha looking a little sick, but she charged Riley, who basketed her hands. When Sasha’s foot slapped the basket, Riley pushed up hard.

The soaring backflip was more than decent, the landing rough to Riley’s eye, but Sasha steadied quickly, punched a fist in the air.

“I did it! I’m going to do it again. Better.”

This time as she flew up, Sasha mimed shooting her bow. Riley found herself grinning, even as Sasha lost the landing, fell back on her ass.

“One more time,” Riley shouted.

On one more time, Sasha stuck it, then did a little Rocky-at-the-top-of-the-steps victory dance.

After an hour, Riley had worked up a nice sweat, her muscles felt well used, her brain clear. And the twitchiness snuck back in.

“Okay, we moved. Boy, did we move.” Sasha sat on the ground to stretch. “Now, what’s the more?”

“I don’t know exactly.” Riley rolled her shoulders as if trying to get to an itch.

“Do you still hurt?”

“No.” Shaking her head at Annika, Riley stretched her calves, her hamstrings. “I’m good, and back to fighting weight. I guess ready for a fight. The waiting’s getting to me. We’re so close. I want to finish it.”

As she stretched her quads, she glanced up. Doyle stood on the terrace, the breeze in his hair, his eyes on her. After a long moment, he slipped back inside.

“Crap.”

“Did you fight with Doyle?” Already sympathetic, Annika rubbed Riley’s arm. “You like to fight with Doyle. It’s like the foreplay.”

“Yeah. No. I mean we’re not fighting. We probably will, and that’s okay. It’s . . .” She looked at Sasha. “You’ve already got an inkling.”

“I’m sorry. It’s hard not to. You have feelings. Why wouldn’t you?”

“I’m all right with feelings. But I have more than I want or know what to do with. I wasn’t after this kind of a thing, and now it’s kind of got a hook in me.”

“Oh! You’re in love. This is wonderful!” Annika threw her arms around Riley.

“It’s not wonderful for everybody.”

“It should be.”

“And I don’t know if it’s like that. I’m just . . . Why can’t it just be sex? There’s nothing complicated there. I know what to do about that. I don’t know what to do about this.”

“You suit so well.”

Riley gaped at Sasha. “What?”

“You do, so well. Just fit. I’ll admit I’ve worried about it because you’re both combative, and hardheaded.”

“I’m not hardheaded. I’m rational.”

“And feelings aren’t. You helped me resolve mine for Bran, to see my own potential, alone and with him. So I’m telling you, if Doyle’s who you want, go get what you want.”

“I’ve sort of got him.”

“I like sex,” Annika said, and flipped her long braid behind her back.

“We’ve heard.” Riley rolled her eyes. “Literally.”

“It’s joyful, and exciting. But with Sawyer, I learned it’s more. With love it brings more, means more. When I no longer have the legs, we can still mate. I’m glad. But I’m sad to know I won’t be able to walk with him, or make food with him, or lie in bed and sleep together.”

“Oh, Anni.” Sasha moved in to hold her. “It’s so unfair.”

“But we’ll be together. I mean to say that. We’ve found a way to be as much together as we can, and will be happy. If Doyle would make you happy, you should listen to Sasha.”

“How am I supposed to know if he’ll make me happy?”

“Find out,” Sasha said. “You’re too smart—and yes, you are hard-headed—to do otherwise. He needs you.”

“He— What?”

“He may not know it, may not be able to accept it yet, but he needs you. And when the man meets the boy, when the boy sees the man, the dark echoes, old blood spills fresh.”

“Anni,” Riley ordered, “go get the others. Quick. What do you see, Sasha?”

“Memories and grief, faced anew. Old scabs, old scars torn open. She feeds on the pain, stirs the old to rise and strike. She lies. Hold strong, hold true, pass this test. For the star waits in the dark, in the innocent. Bring back the light to the man, to the boy. See the name, read the name, say the name. And find the bright and white.”

Sasha closed her eyes, held up a hand. “Need a second. That was intense.” When she felt Bran’s arm around her, she leaned into him.