by KC Kingmaker
She gave me a small smile and nodded appreciatively. “Thanks, Cor Cor.”
“Now let’s get out there and kick some ass, eh? We’re not gonna let those biddies bring us down, are we?”
“Nope!”
I had always been the younger sister in my family, with Myria around; the black sheep of the family where Myri was the golden child. Now I felt like I’d gained a new little sister, and I had to admit, it felt righteous.
THE DOJO WAS A BREEZY, open space that let in a lot of sunlight through the transparent, tarp-like ceiling. All the students—guys and girls alike—stood on a soft blue mat that was like the kind you’d find at any martial arts dwelling. I hoped it was as magically enhanced as the suit I wore.
I was surprised to find Jace Hudson standing at the front of the class. On one side of the blue mat were the Ghosts, and across from us stood the students like Genevieve, a couple of her friends, Venn Gable, and Dax Kilmeade.
My eyes lingered on the upperclassmen guys in their black spandex, drawing a blush to my cheeks. Lord help me—I thought the suits left little to the imagination for the girls! The sculpted muscles, the ripped bodies, the hefty bulges . . . is this intentional, letting us see which guys are packing so we’ll get distracted and mess up?
I supposed I shouldn’t have been surprised many of the supernatural young men at the Academy looked to be smuggling anacondas in their suits. There’s a reason everyone here is so confident. Seems they’re the “cream of the crop” in more ways than one.
I had to avert my gaze to the mat to keep from springing a leak. Luckily, Jace Hudson started talking to draw everyone’s attention away from the eye-candy, though he certainly had a bit of candy going on himself.
“Welcome to Physical Intent. I’m Professor Hudson.” He cracked his knuckles and twisted his neck this way and that. He was dressed in more appropriate garb, still form-fitting but not as eye-popping as the students’ outfits.
He paced in front of the two groups like a drill sergeant. The Ghosts and Phantoms faced each other, rather than him, making it seem like he was preparing us for civil war.
“In this class you’ll learn the combat skills necessary to do your jobs as shadowblades. Most of you know how to fight from your time at your undergrad academy.” He glanced at me for a moment and I felt myself get smaller. “Here, though, you will learn more advanced techniques—styles from Jiu-Jitsu, Ninjutsu, Aikido, and other forms from around the world. This world in particular.”
Guess we won’t be learning Fae-Jitsu. For shame.
“Mainly, styles that focus on momentum, energy, grappling, and balance. Shadowblades are inherently stealthy. We operate in the shadows, of course, and therefore are understated in our attacks and defenses.”
Looking around at the other girls, and then myself, I died a little inside. I wasn’t as, um, “understated” as the others. No wonder everyone’s so lean and fit here. Have to be little to get in those nooks and crannies. Can a more voluptuous girl like me even make it at a place like this?
Goosebumps crawled up my arms. I was finally getting to the good stuff, and I couldn’t wait, though I was a little scared. I knew I’d be sore as hell the following day. I wanted to learn how to throw someone on their ass by using their own momentum. Sounded badass.
Professor Hudson talked a good game. “Sometimes we will use weapons, but you must learn how to defend yourselves unarmed. Weapons are flashy and noisy, generally speaking. Given the tasks shadowblades are required to carry out, it is much more beneficial to suffocate a man to death than stab him and give him a chance to scream and alert others. I’m sorry if the mental image is gruesome, but you’ll have to get used to it. Otherwise, I fear you’re in the wrong school.”
Students chuckled—the Phantoms more than the Ghosts. They had already been through this before. Venn, Dax, and especially Genevieve and her girl posse carried themselves with an air of self-importance—an I-know-something-you-don’t expression that made me want to karate chop their throats.
I, for one, wasn’t turned off by the violence Jace Hudson was depicting. I had a feeling no one else was, either—except maybe Charli—because this was like Navy SEAL training. There was no easy way to go about it. No reason beating around the bush.
I was very curious about the specific people shadowblades were ordered to kill. Headmaster Cane said the “dissident” and “malcontent” supernaturals, but who are they, exactly? Are we talking students from other schools? Freaking demons and gargoyles and shit? Supernaturals in powerful positions that have infiltrated human governments?
The possibilities were endless. I figured I’d find out if I actually passed the classes required to become a full-fledged shadowblade. Then again, I didn’t think I’d ever get there, because my main purpose was to find my sister. Once I knew she was safe, I’d try to restart my life back home.
I needed to remind myself I wasn’t here to make friends; I wasn’t even here to pass classes, but I needed to fake it well. I was here to infiltrate and find out information.
Professor Hudson shifted gears after his violent little spiel. “When you’re here, Ghosts, I want you to forget everything Headmaster Cane told you at orientation.” As he paused, I scanned the students and noticed many of them had raised eyebrows.
That’s a ballsy statement.
Professor Hudson held his hands up to explain. “I have the utmost respect for Headmaster Cane, first and foremost. He is my superior and boss.” His beard twitched as he smiled. “So don’t try to get me fired.”
A few more chuckles came from the Phantoms.
“He told you to begin your studies selfishly. For the most part, I agree. But in Physical Intent, you are encouraged to let that philosophy go. Contrary to what the headmaster told you, being a shadowblade isn’t all about being ‘in it for yourself.’ It’s about teamwork, as you’ll come to realize.”
Professor Hudson held up his black-gloved hand, fingers extended, the back of his hand facing us. “Shadowblades work in groups called Gloves. There are five Knuckles to a Glove. Each of those Knuckles represents a person—you.” He closed his fingers into a fist but kept it raised. “Each Knuckle has a purpose, which we’ll get into deeper in this class. As a team, you work together to make sure your ducks are in a row; to make sure you don’t fail; to have each other’s backs. Five Knuckles are better than one, Ghosts.”
He paused for a moment to let us mull that over. I was surprised to hear what the shadowblade strategy was all about, yet happy I was finally learning the lingo.
“This concept of teamwork—Glove teamwork especially—plays out in other Academy ventures, such as Shadowball.”
A few students whooped, gave each other knowing nods and smiles, and one guy said, “Hell yeah.”
Um, what the fuck is Shadowball?
The professor waved the thought away. “That’s neither here nor there. As you advance through your classes, the teamwork aspect will become more apparent. I’d like to give you a preliminary look into it with Physical Intent.
“To that end, we will be creating pairs. First-year Ghosts will partner up with upperclassmen Phantoms, with the Phantoms acting as tutors.”
Everyone started looking around, confusion on their faces. The Phantoms seemed just as befuddled as the Ghosts. I eyed Charli and we frowned at each other—we’d be getting split up before the fun even began.
Jace Hudson clapped and drew everyone’s attention before we could get carried away. “Today, Phantoms will sit aside and examine the Ghosts on their skill sets, expertise, and prowess. And to see who they might gel with. Ghosts, you will be stretching, then sparring one another, to showcase your qualities to the Phantoms. At the end of class, Phantoms will choose their trainees.”
At the mention of sparring, my stomach dropped. We were being used as punching bags for the upperclassmen to judge, scrutinize, and possibly ridicule.
I met Charli’s gaze—worried expressions for both of us—and in unison we looked across
the way.
Genevieve Jade’s eyes practically sparkled with malice.
Chapter 13
Coralia
I STARTED STRETCHING with Charli. I wanted to make sure I was loose and limber and wouldn’t pull anything in the sparring session.
To be honest, I didn’t even know what “sparring” entailed. While seated on the mat and leaning over to touch my toes, I peeked under my extended arm to where I heard students grunting nearby. Their scuffling drew the attention of a few Phantoms, including Dax and Venn.
Two guys grappled on the ground, contorting their bodies to try and pin one another. They had gotten a head start, probably wanting to get the scouting period over and done with.
On another section of the mat, two girls were going through motions I vaguely recalled as the “Judo chop!” move from Austin Powers movies.
It became clear to me, quickly, that I was out of my element. I didn’t have a single iota what these people were getting into—martial arts, wrestling, street fighting. I’d gotten into a few fights in my day, which basically amounted to flailing and swinging my arms in the hope I’d connect with my adversary’s jaw.
I’d never gotten into anything like this. These people were clearly trained.
I moved my eyes further to the side and found Genevieve staring daggers at me from across the room. Eyes bulging, I turned away and ducked my head, trying to make myself shrink in my own skin.
“Don’t worry, Cor Cor,” Charli said, seated across from me. “We’ll get you up to speed.” She gave me a kind smile.
I guess it’s her turn to pump me up. We could all use it every now and then. “Thanks, Char.”
We stood, did some arm stretches and some wide-legged exercises. I was basically trying to stall for time.
Then a voice behind me made my skin crawl: “Charli Fairfax, I challenge you to a sparring match!”
A shiver sprinted up my spine. Genevieve Jade was loud enough for the whole dojo to hear. A few people glanced our way, though most of the students kept their distance and stuck to their own business. Wisely.
Charli paled like an actual ghost.
I faced Genevieve. “Didn’t you hear the professor? Phantoms are supposed to sit this one out and watch.”
She folded her arms under her chest and raised her chin. “I’m not talking to you, Fatty Dum. Skinny Dee and I have unfinished business. She’ll be my trainee.”
Charli threw up her arms in frustration, biting her lip. “Genevieve, it was an accident!”
We had drawn more attention from other students. Bully Bitch Jade had made a scene on purpose.
Professor Hudson came striding over. Behind him, Venn Gable and Dax Kilmeade watched with interest but stayed out of it.
“What’s going on here?” the bearded professor asked, eyeing all three of us in turn.
“I would like to personally test this Ghost’s skills, Professor,” Genevieve said, pointing at Charli.
Jace furrowed his brow. “That’s not the assignment.”
“I’m aware, sir.”
Taking a deep breath, the professor scratched his forehead. He seemed exasperated already.
I’m sure this isn’t the first confrontation he’s had with BBJ.
“Why?” he asked simply.
“You want to know the truth?”
“I can think of nothing more I’d like to know.”
“She purposefully attacked me in alchemy class.”
“It wasn’t on purpose!” Charli piped up. “I swear!”
Jace set his jaw. “Miss Jade, how did this girl—who looks on the verge of tears and has probably expressed her regret and voiced numerous apologies since the event—attack you, exactly?”
“She threw a tumbler of chemicals on me.”
Jace raised a brow. Uh oh, not a good sign. “Were you burned or otherwise harmed?”
Genevieve scoffed. “It’s the principle, Professor. What if those had been deadly—”
“But they weren’t deadly chemicals,” Jace butted in, “because it’s the first day of class and I know Professor Hawkins uses placebo solutions on the first day.”
“It’s the principle, Jace!” Genevieve screeched, closing her hands into fists.
The professor paused again. All eyes were on our debacle taking place. Students weren’t even training. I didn’t like that Genevieve thought she was on a first-name basis with the professor.
“How will your dignity ever recover?” Hudson asked dryly.
“Precisely.”
Obviously, Bully Bitch Jade hadn’t caught the sarcasm dripping off his words. She’d heard what she wanted to hear.
“I will not force this Ghost to spar with you, Miss Jade.” The professor folded his arms and turned to Charli, who looked ready to flee her own skin. “It’s your decision . . . Miss Fairfax, was it?”
Charli’s eyes pleaded with me while everyone else scrutinized her, before turning to her aggressor. Her big eyes implored reconsideration, but Genevieve was having none of it.
I understood Charli’s dilemma: If she backed down, everyone would think she was a pansy. She’d be stuck under her bully’s thumb in the dominant-submissive dynamic. She’d never hear the end of it.
If Charli didn’t back down, well, who knew how she’d end up?
Before I could even stop myself or think of the ramifications, I grunted, “I’ll do it.”
Genevieve and Professor Hudson faced me, all four eyebrows rising high in surprise.
I blinked, realizing what I’d just said. I understood it might’ve hurt Charli more than helped her, letting me take her battles for her. She might be thought a clinger and worthless on her own merits. But she was clearly scared, she was my new best friend, and I wasn’t about to let a walking Louis Vuitton advertisement stomp all over her.
Plus, I had some payback of my own to exact on Bully Bitch Jade.
“It was my fault,” I explained. “My cat knocked over the beaker that landed on Genevieve.”
Jace cocked his head. “Your cat knocked—wait, what?” He waved his head and hands at the same time. “You know what, I don’t care. Miss Jade, will a sparring match with Miss Hargrave appease your need for retribution?”
Genevieve’s voice was serpentine. “Oh yes, Professor. It absolutely will.”
I CRACKED MY KNUCKLES, trying to act like a badass, but inside I feared for my life. Standing across from me on the mat was my very-quickly-acquired nemesis, and she looked mean as fuck.
Charli had tried to talk me out of it, saying, “You shouldn’t have to take the lashes for my misdeeds,” and I’d told her she needed to stop reading Regency BDSM novels because she sounded like a protagonist from the 1800s when she talked like that. Also, I saw no other way out of our predicament.
We couldn’t back down. As a unit. It just wasn’t in me, and Genevieve was due for some karma. I still hadn’t gotten over the shadow-tentacle incident from my first night at the Academy. I felt violated and needed revenge.
The jury was still out on the chances of me exacting said revenge, however.
Professor Hudson stood between us. “No spells, no shadows. Keep it light, yes?”
We both grunted. He stepped out of the way.
I felt like a samurai zeroing in on his opponent’s battle stance. Truth was, I had no idea what I was doing, so while Genevieve twisted herself into some Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon bullshit, I just ran at her.
I wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible.
Students cheered as I charged her. Apparently, this sort of gladiatorial excitement was rare. It was clear we weren’t going to “keep it light.”
Genevieve read my move from a mile away and slid out of the way.
I stumbled with my fist flying, the momentum carrying me past her.
Fuck!
I tried to spin around before I ate shit, but then something thudded into my side and my innards constricted. I thought I was going to piss myself. I yelped as Genevieve recoiled from th
e punch to my gut and gave me a lopsided grin to add insult to injury.
Staggering, I took a moment to steady myself. I tried to draw on my reserves to keep me afloat. Adrenaline pumped through my veins, staving off the pain from the kidney punch.
I wanted to wait for Genevieve to come to me, but clearly that wasn’t going to happen. I was the vexed one, while she had all the patience of a venomous turtle.
As I approached—a bit slower this time—she lashed out and I managed to dodge backward, my eyes bulging as her knuckles grazed my nose. My mouth made an “O” of surprise at my own ability to dodge.
It was a short-lived triumph. Another punch came to my side. The good side. As I staggered to one knee, I realized she’d been feigning the whole time with her haymaker, to set me up.
Students let out “oohs” and “ahhs.” My lower extremities felt suddenly wobbly and a bit useless.
“F-Fucking bitch,” I growled through clenched teeth.
She motioned me forward with her palm like Neo in the Matrix, and I rolled my eyes and spat, “Yeah, yeah, hoe, I’ll be there in a sec.” I bowed my head to make it look like I was meditating, to try and throw her out of rhythm.
Then I lunged forward, pouncing out of my kneeling stance like a cheetah. Or so I thought.
I tried to wrap my arms around Genevieve’s narrow waist to bring her to the ground, where I hoped my bigger weight would help me. That also failed.
She spun around me like a ballerina and I spun with her, dizzying myself while I tried to keep her in front of me. At least if she was in front of me, I could see what—
The whole world somersaulted and I was staring up at the white tarp of the dojo ceiling. “Oh fudge,” I breathed.
All the air whooshed out of me as I landed on my back with a harsh thud. Something inside me sounded like it cracked. I wasn’t sure if she had tripped me or literally spun me through the air using my momentum, but I did know it hurt like fuck.
My body deflated, the fight leaving me. I could only take in shallow, ragged breaths. I thought I vaguely heard a screech from Charli in the stands—my one supporter—while the rest of the students laughed.
