They moved a bit slower than normal, with controlled speed, but still.... "Aren't you two supposed to be resting from your injuries?"
Hunter shrugged, and the muscles in his chest flexed. Lucy flushed at the sight of it, and he smiled a lopsided grin, as if he knew what she was thinking. "We were."
"We might have healed," said Luke.
Hunter winked. "Only one way to find out."
He hopped around like a boxer, back and forth between the balls of his feet, fists up and ready, and made a few jabs at Luke. His natural, fluid grace was almost animal-like, yet despite his grin and playful attitude, Lucy knew the lethal speed and ferocious skill that lurked underneath. He was a natural fighter, and had been well trained.
But then, Luke was no amateur, either. He dodged the jabs easily enough, and didn't seem to be favoring his foot—much.
Lucy sat on the grass and studied them, noting the small tells they both had that revealed where the next attack would come from. This was her specialty. Rarely could she overpower an opponent with strength, but she was fast, skilled, and could read a fighter like the Sunday Times. Maybe her lie-detecting abilities gave her a heightened sense for it, but wherever it came from, it made her just as dangerous as the two hopping around in front of her. She smothered a smile at the thought of sparring with Hunter.
Weeping willow branches rustled and shifted in the still air around her. Through the parting curtain, Mr. K filled the valley with his booming voice. "Who you rooting for, Lucy?"
Luke guffawed and took a swing at Hunter. "Her brother, of course."
Hunter ducked and brought his right fist up toward Luke's jaw in a powerful uppercut. "Pfft. If she had half a brain, she'd root for the better of us two. That's me, naturally."
The fist missed Luke by a fraction of an inch. He cocked his head. "So the question is, does she have half a brain?"
"Oh thanks, Luke," Lucy huffed and crossed her arms. "You helped me make my decision. I'm rooting for Hunter."
Hunter pumped his fist. "Woohoo! That's my girl."
Mr. K smacked us all with his branches. "Wait, wait, wait. Is this fight with para-powers or without?"
Luke jabbed Hunter in the gut in a mostly friendly way. "The bastard has no powers."
Lucy felt Hunter's eyes on her, and her brow wrinkled in thought. She doubted his lack of powers—there was more to him than he let on. Still, she didn't say anything. Not without proof. Besides, he probably had a reason for not telling anyone.
"Okay," Mr. K said. "No powers? I'm going with Hunter."
Luke scowled. "What?"
Hunter laughed.
"Come on." Mr. K whipped his branches around and knocked them both gently in the head. "Let's get this show on the road. Hunter, show this kid why he shouldn't have skipped class back in the day."
Hunter saluted. "Yes, Sir."
"Lucy and I have placed our faith in you."
Lucy nodded. "Yup." She shifted uncomfortably and battled the guilt she felt about last night. Mr. K either didn't remember anything that happened, or this was his way of smoothing things out between them. Either way, she'd play along for now.
"Ready," yelled Lucy, with a finger raised in the air like a gun, "set, go!"
They resumed their fight.
Hunter and Luke both jabbed at each other, clearly just feeling each other out. From the set of their eyes, Lucy could tell that the fight had gotten serious.
Tired of the quick jabs, Luke took the fight to the next level with a right cross that just missed Hunter's chin.
Hunter blocked a series of aggressive blows, but refrained from counter-attacking, trying to figure out Luke's patterns.
Luke must have noticed because he changed up his style, relying more on kicks now.
Hunter blocked low, then threw a few jabs back, but didn't really connect.
"Come on," Luke swung wide, trying to taunt him, "is that all you got? The old woman and the tree will be disappointed."
"If I could walk," Mr. K said, "I'd be over there right now, kicking your ass."
Luke threw a few more jabs but spared a glance at Mr. K. "Stick to drawing."
Hunter blocked, but Luke didn't let up in his attacks—jab, punch, uppercut—a relentless push to tire Hunter out and land a blow. His persistence paid off with a direct punch to Hunter's cheek.
Lucy winced as if he'd hit her. "Ouch." She could imagine the pain all too well and hoped it didn't bruise. It would be a pity to mar such.... oh blah! This isn't some sappy romance novel. Besides, a guy with some bruises could also be hot. She put her mind back on the fight and not the one sexy fighter.
Luke continued to rain blows, but as he tired, he began to favor his uninjured foot, based on the subtle shift in his body weight.