Nicky and Scaramouche put on pads, shin guards, and fight gloves. The gloves were padded on the front of the hand, but with bare fingers so the men could grab and hold on, but not tear their hands up as badly as they would without protection. They bowed to each other and this time I could watch them watching each other.
I felt Nathaniel tense beside me. He leaned in just enough for his bare shoulder to touch my arm. Now that he wasn’t having to worry about sparring himself, he was worried about Nicky. I was a little surprised that Jake had let his teaching assistant spar with anyone rather than just instruct. That must have meant something was up. Maybe there’d been more than one reason for Jake to tag Nicky to help him today.
I looked around and realized that there were more Harlequin here than normal, and most of them were ones like Scaramouche and Pierette, who had made it known that they weren’t entirely content here in St. Louis. Hortensio, the animal half to his vampire master, Magnifico, was sitting near Pierette, much as we’d moved closer to Magda and Sin. Some of the Harlequin had been given their names by their dead queen, but others had chosen their names with permission of their queen. Magnifico was one of those, so I guess if that’s the name you choose, your ego is going to be large enough that you are going to be a problem. Hortensio reflected his master’s attitudes in almost every way, which made him seriously irritating without his master’s suave and debonair manners to offset it. Funny how most of the Harlequin who had kept the names of their masked alter egos, the names they killed under, were all pains in our asses.
Nicky and Scaramouche both dropped into a fighting stance, but it wasn’t the same one. I knew Nicky didn’t always telegraph his fighting style like that, but the two men had fought before and had watched each other spar with other guards. They had no deep, dark fighting secrets from each other. It was a plus to know your fellow soldiers’ strengths and weaknesses, but it was anything but if you actually had to fight against them and not with them. Nicky knew that, so he wasn’t trying to be coy.
Nicky feinted a kick at Scaramouche’s leg, and the wererat returned the favor, but neither of them put much power behind it. The wererat feinted a punch at Nicky’s face. He bobbed to the side, letting it go past, and then Scaramouche moved in a blur of speed with his other hand. Nicky’s arm was just in front of his face, blocking the other man’s fist. I hadn’t even seen him move to block; it was like magic. Scaramouche tried to follow with a punch to Nicky’s ribs, but the werelion blocked with his elbow and moved just enough, so that missed, too.
Scaramouche gave himself some distance from the other man, hands still raised up protecting his face, elbows tight in over his ribs. “You should not be that much faster than I am, lion.”
“I’m Rex of our pride, rat.”
“It doesn’t matter. You are not Harlequin. You should not be faster than me.”
Nicky faced him with his own arms up, elbows tucked tight against the side of his body; he was on the balls of his feet, almost bouncing in place. Someone his size shouldn’t have bounced like that either; he’d always been more agile than he looked, but I agreed with Scaramouche on the new speed. I’d never seen Nicky move like that.
“Don’t you mean that you shouldn’t be this slow?” Nicky said; his voice already held an edge of growling to it.
“Yes, that is exactly what I mean, lion. Only the Harlequin are so swift that another wereanimal cannot see them move.” Scaramouche kicked at him, but Nicky moved out of the way of it, no need to block. Scaramouche moved in suddenly with a rain of blows and kicks that were just a blur of motion. I couldn’t follow it all, but it was as if Nicky’s hands, arms, and legs were just there, where they needed to be. Scaramouche was a dark blur, but Nicky was so fast my eyes couldn’t even see the blur of his motion. The last time I’d seen anyone that fast, it had been some of the Harlequin before we killed their dark queen. All but one of those particular Harlequin had died rather horrible deaths, so the preternatural wonder speed hadn’t helped them all that much, but I’d never seen one of our people be this fast.
Frustration in a fight can lead to four things: You give up, you fight harder, you fight worse, or you cheat. Scaramouche was Harlequin; they didn’t give up. He fought harder, but when that didn’t get him past Nicky’s guard, his arm swung a little too wide. Nicky landed a fist on the exposed ribs.
I felt the warm rush of power, and for the first time, it was my inner rat that responded to the energy as Scaramouche lashed out. Nicky rocked back and his cheek was bleeding, but Scaramouche hadn’t hit him. I’d have seen that.
Jake was between them, moving so fast, it was as if he’d just appeared to separate them.
“No claws—you know that, Scaramouche.”
I saw the claws curling from the fingers of his gloves now; both hands had sprouted claws, which meant he was powerful enough to shift just that much and no more. Micah could do it, but he was Nimir-Raj; Nicky couldn’t do it, and he was Rex. Nicky touched fingertips to the small cuts on his face. He’d kept the claws from doing much more than touching his skin.
Jake started to stop the fight, but Nicky said, “Let’s do this.”
“No claws, no shifting,” Jake said.
“Only because the Rex is not powerful enough to do a partial shift.”
“And you aren’t good enough to beat me without shifting,” Nicky said.
Scaramouche made a low evil sound that I think was a rat equivalent of a growl, because again a small, dark-furred shape inside me reacted to his beast. Rafael had shared his beast on purpose with me, but it was still new.