Lincoln half-smiles. “Thanks, I think.”

Across the Arena floor, the Tinea regains its footing and burrows into the soil.

Lincoln’s eyes open extra-wide. “I’ve got an idea.” He splits the baculum so his broadsword becomes two fiery short-swords. Standing at alert, he waits for the demon to resurface. “Get behind me.”

Okay, I can see where he’s going. It’s easiest to finish the Tinea if we attack from opposite sides, but if we walk into position, the demon will know exactly where we are. We need the element of surprise.

I stand behind Lincoln, my body on high alert. Adair sits nearby, watching us with her jaw hanging open. My mind clicks back into battle mode, but this time with a difference. Now I calculate more than my own moves and counter-moves. I smile. Fighting as a team feels beyond awesome.

The ground before Lincoln rises. Rotor-like hands break through the surface.

My body tenses, a coiled spring ready to break free. Shifting my weight to the balls of my feet, I speak in a whisper. “Now?”

Lincoln’s voice is calm and low. “Not yet.”

The Tinea’s greasy head-lump breaks through the Arena floor. I want to move so badly; it takes all my focus to wait. Next, the demon’s wormy torso follows out of the hole. I shake out my fingertips, trying to release some of the tension. Finally, ropy legs pop out of the dirt and lock onto the ground.

“Now, Myla!” Lincoln bends over at the waist. Setting my foot onto his back, I launch myself into the air, somersault-twist over the Tinea’s head, and land behind the demon in a crouch. Lincoln raises his short-swords high.

That’s my cue.

As Lincoln brings his blades down through the demon’s arms, I swipe my tail through the monster’s legs. The creature pauses, shivers, then disintegrates into a puddle of brownish goop.

Sweet. Taking down a Tinea’s one for the record books.

Adair sits nearby, her face colorless. “You killed it. Together.”

Lincoln and I bump fists. “That’s right.” I wiggle my bottom. “We are a lean, mean demon killing machine.”

Lincoln laughs; Adair doesn’t. Surprisingly, she’s acting more shocked than arrogant, which is a nice change of pace. Gripping her elbows, she speaks through chattering teeth. “How’d you know how to fight like that?”

Wow. A question that doesn’t involve Scala Heir-related whining. Adair needs to almost die more often. I jog in place, cracking my neck from side to side. “Lincoln broke the baculum in two, so obviously he’s going for the demon’s arms. And if he’s taking out the arms, then I need to get the legs. That’s the only way to kill a Tinea.”

The Prince wraps his hands about my waist. “Nicely done.”