As his hand closed over her wrist, he shook his head. “Not that way. The move takes too long and tells your adversary too clearly what you intend. It has to be fast and unexpected to do you any good.” He positioned himself behind her, one hand on her waist, the other still holding her wrist. “You need to attack with a side motion, working from about the same height as if you’d grabbed it off the stove and swung. Your own strength behind the swing would be enough to bruise bone. With a little Craft to enhance it, you can break bone.”

“I’m not going to break anyone’s bones,” Marian said as he moved her arm back and forth in a swing motion. Of course, the thought of denting his head had a lot of appeal at the moment.

“You’re not tall enough to make a head shot practical,” Lucivar said as if he’d read her thoughts. “But breaking ribs or a forearm would be a good first strike.”

“I’m not going to attack anyone with a skillet!”

“Maybe not. But you’re going to learn how to do it anyway.” He released her and stepped back. “Now swing it and release to hit the target.”

She swung it, put nothing behind it, and let it go. It bounced on the ground halfway between her and the target. Satisfied she’d proven her point, she said, “See? It doesn’t work.”

The skillet flew through the air, straight to Lucivar’s hand. He just looked at her until she stepped aside. Moving into the same spot where she’d stood, he swung the skillet in that sideways motion and let it go. It hit the target with enough force to get wedged in the hay. It hung there for a moment before he used Craft to bring it flying back to him.

Saying nothing, he handed the skillet to her.

Having no choice, she swung the skillet. Damn him, this hurt. But she knew he wouldn’t relent, so she tried to hit the target—and actually came close.

Studying her, he held out one hand. The skillet came flying back to him. “Marian? Do you have everything you want for the kitchen?”