Inamorato

by Keira Michelle Telford

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Name Calling

  After a robot trundles into the rink to retrieve the Chimera corpse left behind by Rachel, Alex is ready for another volunteer.

  “Who’s next?” he asks.

  Ella throws up her hand.

  Alex ignores her. Instead, he pins his eyes on Luka. “How about you, Sandy?”

  “What did you call me?”

  “Sandy.” Alex points to Luka’s hair.

  “That’s a girl’s name.”

  “What’s the matter? You don’t wanna go in the rink?”

  “I didn’t say that, I—”

  “I guess that makes you a big girl’s blouse, so the name fits.” He turns to Ella. “How about you, Cross?”

  She tries not to giggle at his belittlement of Luka, but she thinks it’s cute that he’s jealous of a sixteen-year-old boy. Stepping down from the bleachers, she squares up to him with the same amount of attitude that she’d show to any other Academy teacher.

  “Don’t I get a nickname?”

  “I figured you probably had enough nicknames.”

  “How about you try and give me one I won’t hate?”

  Alex’s mind flashes back to the number stored in his cell phone.

  “How about Silver? On account of those.” He points two fingers at her eyes.

  Ella tries to appear as if she couldn’t care less one way or the other. “Fine. As long as it’s because of my eyes and not because you think I’m second best.” She holds her wrists out in front of her and locks eyes with him. “Now tie me up.”

  He grabs one of her wrists and spins her around to pull both arms behind her back—not unlike that fateful night in the Belt.

  As he ties her up, she turns her head and whispers over her shoulder, “Are you deliberately trying to turn me on right now?”

  Saying nothing, he shoves her into the rink.

  He presses the button and the gate on the other side opens. Ella’s expecting an adolescent, but that’s not what she gets. She shoots Alex a look of death when an adult male Chimera saunters into the rink in front of her.

  While she forms attack strategies, the Chimera begins to circle her. It’s disoriented and confused. It smells humans everywhere, and doesn’t know which way to turn. All of a sudden, it turns and runs at Alex.

  It slams headfirst into the clear plastic wall of the rink and stuns itself. Discovering that its nose is bleeding, it begins to lick its face.

  “Hey!” Ella yells at it, angered that it just dissed her. “I’m over here, you moron!”

  Though she wishes she’d been given a slightly more intelligent animal, its clumsy display did give her an idea. She encourages it to charge after her, and when she reaches the end of the rink, she runs up the plastic wall and leaps several feet into the air.

  As before, the Chimera runs straight into the wall.

  Perfect.

  Ella lands on its back, one leg either side of it. She was hoping that her weight would force it to the floor, but she’s not that lucky. It gets up and begins to writhe and buck, trying to throw her off. Holding on by squeezing her thighs against it, she comes up with another idea.

  First, she kicks its right elbow and completely dislocates the joint. The beast falls forward and smacks its face against the floor. As its front end drops, Ella slides forward. Her knees hit the floor, and as the Chimera tries to stand back up, she finds herself straddling the back of its neck.

  It’s a lot stronger than she thought.

  With its head caught between her thighs, it sways from left to right and tries to shake itself free. Before it succeeds, she wraps one leg around its neck and the other around its face.

  She clamps down hard.

  As it shifts its shoulders to the right, Ella swings all of her weight to the left. She throws herself off the beast, twisting its neck.

  Unfortunately, it doesn’t snap.

  Shit.

  Flipped onto its back, its head still between her legs, it tries to claw its way out of her grip. It’s only got one good arm, though, and it paws desperately at one of her boots, its talons digging into the thick rubber sole.

  What now?

  Lying there on the floor, Ella imagines Alex’s finger hovering over the failsafe button.

  Fuck that.

  She doesn’t need to be saved.

  Keeping one leg gripped tightly around the Chimera’s face—covering its eyes, keeping it disoriented—she releases its neck and brings the heel of her boot down against its throat.

  Once.

  Twice.

  Three times.

  Blood begins to leak out of the Chimera’s mouth, and Ella feels its trachea begin to collapse. As it lies there, struggling for air, she gets to her feet. Standing over it, she puts one boot against its throat and kicks at its head with the other.

  Snap.

  Neck broken.

  Dead.

  With her back to the class, she breathes a sigh of relief. She makes sure that all traces of the anxiety she was feeling just a few moments ago are gone from her face, and she emerges from the rink victorious.

  She presents her bound wrists to Alex. “How did I do?”

  As he unties her, he whispers in her ear, “Now who’s turning who on?”

  By the end of the four-hour class, everyone has had the opportunity to try and kill with their feet—some with more success than others. Out of the fifteen Cadets in the class, Alex had to use the failsafe nine times.

  When the bell for lunch finally rings, Ella dawdles. She rejects Luka’s offer to walk with her to the dining hall, and she hangs around, messing with her bootlaces, until everyone else has left.

  From her seat, she watches Alex struggle to manage an armful of books and his crutch.

  “Here, let me help you.” She skips down to the rink and takes the books off him. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

  “How very sneaky of you.”

  “What?” She feigns ignorance. “There’s no harm in doing my favorite teacher a simple favor, is there?”

  “As long as you don’t expect anything in return.”

  “Oh, but I do. I want an ‘A’. If you don’t promise to give me one, I might accidentally drop all these books in a puddle.”

  “Please, don’t. That woman from the Academy library scares me. I already know she’s going to try and blame me for the gum that’s stuck inside one of those.”

  He tries to take a step forward, but his crutch slips in a smear of blood on the floor. He stumbles, and Ella catches him. The books tumble to the floor and she steadies his hip with one hand, her other hand pressed against his chest.

  Silence.

  She leans into him, tucking her head against his shoulder. She notices the rhythm of his breathing change, and she feels the warmth from his breath as he tilts his head down to look at her. She can’t let this moment pass without saying something.

  “I want—”

  “I know,” he cuts her off. “But you have to—”

  “I know.”

  She backs off.

  She can read in his face how much it pains him to have to ask her to withdraw from him, and she looks away. Silently, she begins retrieving the books from the floor.

  Alex ruffles a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, El.”

  She looks up at him, smiling. “It’s Silver now. Remember?”

  He frowns at her. “Really? You actually like that?”

  “I actually do.”

  “When we first met, you made such a big deal about your name. You chastised me for not using it, and complained about what everyone else called you.”

  “I don’t like the other names people call me. I don’t want to be constantly reminded about my bloodline, or my namesake for that matter.” She stands up, books in hand. “When I graduate, everyone in the Division is going to start calling me by my last name.”

  Alex shrugs. “That’s just how it works.”

  “Not necessarily. You told Rachel to forge
a new identity for herself, right? So why can’t I do the same? Why do I have to be confined by what it says on my vest?”

  “I guess you don’t, but I don’t want others to think I’m favoring you. I don’t think it’s right that I have a pet name for you in class.”

  “It won’t just be me, though. It’s Rachel, too. As far as the rest of the class is concerned, you’ll just be helping two of the Academy’s most privileged Cadets break free from their family associations.”

  She knows that last statement was a deal closer.

  He knows it, too.

  “Okay, then.” He takes a deep sigh. “Silver it is.”

  She looks pleased. She’s fighting the urge to kiss him, he can see it in her face, and she keeps glancing at his lips.

  He smiles back at her. “When’s our next class together?”

  “Not until Friday. I’m out with the Hunter Division for the next three days.”

  “I’m almost jealous. Although I don’t know if it’s because I’m yearning to kill something, or because I don’t get to watch you kill something. That was quite a show you put on today.”

  “Did you find me … stimulating?”

  Alex is about to respond to that with something equally playful, but all too soon, their flirt and tease is interrupted by a rather unwelcome face.

  Celia.

  She arrives unannounced and strides over to the newly reconciled couple, whereupon she holds out her hands to take the books from Ella.

  “I’ll take those, thank you.”

  Ella doesn’t budge. “He doesn’t need your help.”

  “It’s okay,” Alex breaks the tension before it turns into anything significant. “Leave the books here. I’ll see you on Friday.”

  “Are you serious?” Ella pulls a face at him.

  “Celia and I need to work a few things out. It’s fine. Trust me.”

  Her displeasure clear, Ella drops the books down onto the end of a bench and storms briskly out of the room. Celia waits until she’s gone before she gets closer to Alex and runs her hands over his Kevlar vest.

  He tenses. “Why are you here?”

  “I came to see how your first day went.”

  He brushes her hands away. “Why did you do it?”

  “Do what?”

  “The restraining order.”

  “To give you time to come to your senses. Did it work?”

  She tries to straighten his jacket, but he brushes her away again—harder this time.

  “Don’t touch me.”

  Celia regards him closely. “You still have feelings for her, don’t you?”

  “I won’t let you come between us.”

  “No? Then how about the Academy? When they find out you’re banging a student, they’ll—”

  “I’m not.”

  “Bullshit. I can see it in your eyes. You’re still craving her tight little body.”

  Alex shoves her away from him. “Ella and I aren’t sleeping together, so you’ve got no ammunition with the Academy. If what you’re hoping to achieve is to have me dishonorably discharged, you might as well give up.”

  Celia studies him again, and her finely tuned journalist’s senses detect no hint of deception. That can only mean one thing:

  “You’re waiting for her? Seriously? How pathetic.”

  “Leave me alone.” He collects his books off the bench and gets ready to leave.

  “And when she graduates?” Celia continues to needle him. “What then? The only way the two of you could ever …” Her words die.

  She begins to laugh.

  “What I choose to do is none of your business,” Alex growls at her. “And I won’t let you interfere with it.”

  Celia wipes tears of laughter away from her eyes. “And here I was, thinking of you as the loveable underdog who managed to overcome his miserable past to create a bright and prosperous future for himself. But no, you’re the fool who’s going to throw it all away for a pretty little girl who likes to suck his cock.”

  Alex raises his arm as if to backhand her, but he thinks better of it.

  “Oh, do follow through, lover.” Celia presents her cheek for him. “It’d make a fantastic story for the paper.”

  Alex clenches his jaw. “Get out of my classroom.”

  “This isn’t over.”

  “I think it is.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  A Better Way

  Friday’s class convenes at the playing field behind the Academy.

  Yet again, Ella is the first one there. She finds Alex sitting on a bench with his injured leg resting outward, sipping a cup of coffee, smoking a cigarette, and reading an Academy textbook.

  He’s sitting in a portion of the playing field that’s surrounded by a large net fence. It’s the net used by the games department to stop stray balls from ending up on the roof, or smashing windows.

  As Ella gets closer, she sees that the cordoned off area is lined with automatic ball launchers, and she doesn’t know what to expect. High velocity dodgeball, maybe? Curious, and slightly wary, she slips inside the net and dumps her book bag down beside Alex’s bench.

  “Am I about to get pelted in the head with balls? Should I have brought a helmet?”

  “You don’t even wear a helmet on the line, so why would you wear one here?”

  “Chimera don’t throw things at me. They can’t: they don’t have thumbs. Besides, I prefer going soft top. The helmet interferes with my equilibrium or something. It makes me feel claustrophobic. I’ve never managed to properly land a jump while wearing the helmet, and I can’t afford to fumble like that on the line.”

  “Fair enough.” Alex sets the textbook aside, giving her his full and undivided attention. “How was your time on the line this week?”

  “Pretty uneventful.” She looks disheartened. “The second line did a really good job in the last sector they cleared. There was hardly anything left.”

  “You were disappointed?”

  “Wouldn’t you be?”

  Some of Ella’s classmates begin to arrive, and as they step onto the playing field a few hundred yards away and make their way toward the net, she notices something different about them.

  They’re all wearing gym clothes.

  “Shit. Did I miss that memo?” Ella checks her phone.

  No messages.

  No missed calls.

  She upturns both palms. “I wasn’t told to wear my athletics.”

  Alex seems unconcerned.

  “Take it off.”

  “What?”

  “Your vest. Take it off.”

  “But I’m not wearing gym clothes. I don’t have anything underneath except …” She suddenly realizes why she didn’t get the memo. “Now who’s being sneaky?”

  Alex tries to be nonchalant. “Must’ve been an oversight.”

  “There’s gotta be a better way than this.” Ella unzips her Kevlar vest. “Surely it can’t be enough for you just to look at me.”

  She strips off her Kevlar vest, revealing a skintight, white undershirt. To top it off, a gust of cold wintery air whips by and her nipples visibly harden.

  “Happy now?” She cocks an eyebrow at him.

  Alex roams his eyes over her. “Mm-hmm, but it’s not enough. Nothing’s ever enough.” He takes a puff of his cigarette, still admiring her.

  As the other Cadets approach, he forces himself to look away from her. He extinguishes his cigarette and prepares to organize his students.

  To begin, he has them stand in neat lines, and he spaces them out at arm’s length from one another. Once everyone is in position, he addresses them head-on.

  “With the exception of Silver eyes over there”—he points at Ella—“and the other Interns, how many of you are truly confident about killing a Chimera on the line?”

  Quite a few hands go up.

  Luka’s is one of them.

  Alex pins his eyes on him. “Are you? Really?”

  Luka nods. “Yeah, I reckon so.”

&
nbsp; Alex keeps Luka’s attention on him. “How confident?”

  “Confident.”

  “On a scale of one to ten?”

  As Luka is preparing to answer, Alex pushes a button on a remote in his pocket. One of the ball launchers immediately spits out a ball, and it hits Luka in the head.

  “Ow! What the fuck?!”

  Laughter.

  “Distractions.” Alex grins. “Out on the line, there are plenty of distractions.” He approaches another Cadet and points down at her feet. “Tie your laces.”

  She looks down, and as soon as she does, a ball pelts her in the back.

  “You don’t always see an attack coming,” Alex explains. “You can’t always rely on your eyes.”

  “That’s never really been a problem for me,” Rachel reminds him.

  He pats her on the shoulder. “Accordingly, I expect you to excel in this class.”

  He steps away from her and pushes a button.

  A ball launches at her, but she catches it seconds before impact.

  Alex smiles and looks over the rest of the class. “You should all be able to do what Red just did.”

  He fires another ball off at random.

  One Cadet sees it coming and ducks. The next Cadet in its path turns in time to get hit straight in the face.

  Without waiting for the class to recover, he fires another.

  And another.

  One hits a girl in the ribs.

  One bounces off another Cadet’s head and the Cadet behind catches it.

  Ella catches a third.

  The Cadet beside her intercepts one on its way to the Cadet in front of him, and deflects it back toward the net fence.

  After several repetitions, their reaction times begin to speed up. When they’re successfully catching, dodging, or deflecting almost all of the balls, Alex ceases firing at them.

  “Good.” He rummages in his Hunter Division hold-all. “You’re getting the hang of this.”

  He withdraws an armful of black material.

  Blindfolds.

  “Now I want you to do it with your eyes closed.” He looks smug.

  The class groans.

  He hands out the blindfolds—to all except Rachel ‘Red’ Jenkins—and stands back.

  “Listen to your environment.” He paces round the net, weaving in between them and around them. “Hear the wind, the birds, the rustling of the trees.” He keeps moving. “Become familiar with your surroundings, and the sounds you might hear on the line.” He pushes a button on another remote.