by Holly Ryan
He waved me onto the mat. “I could show you some fighting moves really quick. If it feels right.”
Did I dare pass up on an offer for free training from a guy who knew judo? Of course not. The experts who had trained me were myself, YouTube, and action movies. Podunk City didn’t have an official martial arts school.
“It just so happens that it does feel right,” I said.
His amber eyes lit up even more as he backed up onto the mats, and he curled his finger for me to follow. I did, although somewhat reluctantly. Even as the slayer, this was hardly a fair fight, even if it wasn’t technically real. Despite my slayer healing ability, I didn’t have time to nurse more wounds, and if I were being honest with myself, I wasn’t totally sure I could trust my body with shirtless Jacek within touching distance, especially with this house and its rightness heightening all of my senses. Not after last night with Eddie when I’d lost complete control and had loved every second of it.
“Judging from the vampire blood you had all over you the night we met, I would suspect one fought back,” he said, widening his stance.
“You would be right.” A sudden thought jolted me to a stop. “Was it someone you trained in judo?”
He chuckled, and the sound immediately relaxed me. “The vampires I teach are old and smart enough to avoid the slayer. They fear you, and not just because you could stake them.”
“If you say so,” I muttered and stepped onto the mat with him.
“I bet you focus most of your fighting on the offensive, which is good since you’re the slayer, but it wouldn’t hurt to practice your defensive moves. There are two ways to block punches. Elbows up or bob and weave your head to throw your attacker off balance. Like this.” He showed me both, circling around me on the mat, then tapped his perfectly squared chin. “Try to punch me.”
I’d rather not. He was too hot to punch. But I positioned my legs in a fighting stance and lifted my fists, anyway. He dodged every attempt, raising his elbows around his head so my knuckles cracked against them, or by bobbing and weaving his head. Frankly, it was embarrassing how much I sucked at this.
“Now you try it.” He smashed his fists together and scowled, but his grin messed it up and only made me laugh. “Ready?”
I blew out a breath and nodded. He threw punches, but I couldn’t tell if he was reining himself in like I was some delicate flower or not. I danced around him and mimicked his earlier movements, never once feeling the dig of his knuckles in my face.
“Good. Now see if you can take me down,” he said, the dare lighting up his orange-yellow eyes.
“Why?” I said between pants. “I can just throw a stake at you and be done with it.”
He chuckled and shook his head. “Unless I bob and weave out of the way. Just see if you can take me.”
Well, when he put it like that. I shook out my arms and stretched my neck, stalling because I knew I’d have to touch him with my whole body if I tried to take him down. As if sensing the direction of my thoughts, he smiled and stood there like a glistening-chested god. After blowing out a steadying breath, I lunged, faked right, then whipped to the left and around to the back of him to kick his feet out from underneath him. That was the plan anyway.
Somehow, it was my feet that suddenly weren’t underneath me anymore, and then I went down. My back slapped the mat, funneling the air from my lungs, before another weight landed on top. Jacek’s body covered mine, his big, sexy grin just inches from my mouth. My chest shoved against his as my breaths grew faster, more ragged the longer his muscled form molded to mine. My blood seemed to gather at every place we touched, but especially at the apex of my thighs where his hips had nestled him close. I stared into his eyes, snared by the continuous twinkling there, still not quite sure how I’d wound up on the floor instead of him.
“Well, hello there,” I said.
“You’re broadcasting your moves about ten minutes before you actually do them.”
He didn’t say it with judgement, but the hard truth behind his words crashed my back teeth together. I already knew I sucked. Now he did, too.
I took his shoulders, flipped him off of me, and stood, averting my gaze to hide my shame. “I’ll try harder.”
He took slow steps forward until he stood in front of me. Warmth, the kind that blooms from kindness, radiated out of his cool skin. He thumbed my chin and lifted my gaze to his. “I can help.”
“Shouldn’t you be afraid that I’ll kill you if I get too good at this?”
He threw back his head and laughed. “The night’s not over yet, Slayer.”
“This is just...” I broke away from him and searched the living room for answers to all my questions. “So weird. You should be afraid of me. I shouldn’t have trouble killing vampires or demons or turning down the devil’s marriage proposal. I’m the slayer. I was chosen to be a badass, and I’m inside a vampire nest with vampires who...” Light me on fire, I wanted to say. In a good, let’s-all-strut-around-naked kind of way.
“Belle?”
“What?”
“All things considered, you’re doing very well with no one helping you after all this time. Plus...” He took the bottom hem of my Spongebob T-shirt and rubbed the fabric between his thumb and forefinger. “Bob Sponge has been Employee of the Month a ton of times, so as far as role models go, you could do a lot worse.”
I gave him a skeptical frown that was tinged with a smile. “It’s Spongebob, and how do you know he was Employee of the Month?”
“I know things by accident sometimes, but I will never look at yellow sponges the same again.” His fingers at my shirt grazed the skin underneath, thrilling the blood through my veins faster. “Want me to show you how I took you down?”
“Yes,” I said, amazed that the word didn’t shiver from my lips like the rest of me was.
With his hands guiding my body, he showed me where to put my feet, how to position myself, how to move. Under his touch, I imagined myself having the same liquid grace he did as it ebbed and flowed between us.
“Now, try it,” he ordered.
“Shouldn’t I do a sneak attack? You’ll see it coming.”
“Sneak attacks won’t work when you smell like you do.”
“Like sunshine and...” Desire. Was I that obvious? All signs pointed to yes. I cleared my throat. “Okay. Well, pretend you can’t smell me.”
He nodded as I stepped in close. Without overthinking it, I flew into action, mimicking his movements and grace. He smacked the mat hard.
Boom, sucker. I’d done it. I fist-pumped the air, but then for the second time that night, he whipped my feet out from underneath me. My legs no longer supported me, and I went down on all fours, crouched over Jacek like a wild animal, my pelvis tucked into his.
“Damn it,” I said, but it was surrounded with my laugh.
He chuckled, too. “You’ll get better. You’ll see my sneak attacks coming.”
Would I, though? Every single one of them? I hadn’t seen him or Eddie coming into my life, that was for sure.
My knees bracketed his perfectly honed torso, and I enjoyed the thrill of him between my thighs a little too much. Eddie’s head had been there just last night, and I was starting to feel a little selfish. Not much. But a little. But it wouldn’t be fair to Eddie if I fucked his roommate.
Because that was exactly what I was thinking about.
Hey, we all had our vices. Mine just happened to have fangs.
“You moved your body well.” Jacek brushed stray hairs off my forehead and behind my ear, his fingertips trailing through the strands and catching as if to hold me close.
And close we were. Crouched as I was, my bottom lip almost skimmed his. My breasts, mostly contained in my sports bra and T-shirt, were crushed to his bare chest. Heat gathered between my spread legs, triggering a throb that drowned out my raging heartbeat.
What was happening to me? Why couldn’t I just shut everything down inside me? Was it this house or the smoldering hot vampires
who lived here? Because Eddie wasn’t enough. I wanted Jacek, too, so much that it boiled out all reason.
Almost. I slid off of him, although reluctantly, as he gazed up at me from shuttered eyes.
“Is Eddie here?” I asked, my voice trembling.
Jacek stood, looking as graceful as rushing water and not at all pained from the scars on his back. “He’s out, said he had a book emergency. But he said he translated something you should see upstairs.”
“Okay.”
We stared at each other for several beats while I tried to find the will to tear myself from the room. He wasn’t making it any easier with the mischievous quirk of his mouth.
“And Sawyer? I still haven’t had a proper conversation with him yet.”
Jacek nodded. “Maybe you’ll see him on your way upstairs.”
Even if that wasn’t meant to be a dismissal, I took it as one. I turned and trotted up the steps to the library, though I suppose I could’ve tried to climb the pole from the first floor. Maybe next time.
The upstairs hallway lights had been dimmed to a warm, soothing glow, and the scent of apple pie and coffee reached me before the heavenly sight did. A smaller piece, though not any less mouth-watering, sat on a little plate next to a mug of steaming coffee at the table Eddie and I had sat at last night. If Eddie was gone and Jacek was still downstairs, then this had be Sawyer wanting to ruin my waistline.
“Sawyer?” I whispered while following my nose. “You’re the one who bites, so I’m not sure why you won’t talk to me.”
A gentle breeze kissed past my face, intimate and somehow familiar. Invisible fingertips skimmed over my cheek, brushing the corner of my lips. I sighed into the pleasant touch and then turned to see its source whisk by me. Nothing but empty hallway. Was he a ghost? A shy vampire? Either way, I was intrigued, and slightly breathless.
“Thank you,” I whispered, though I wasn’t sure exactly what I thanked him for. Everything, I supposed, though I had no idea what all that might entail.
Boy, these vamps were messing with my mind. And I fucking loved it.
I beelined for the pie and coffee so they would drown out everything else. While I stuffed my face, I read a note from Eddie that he’d tucked inside an open book, its pages as brittle as dead leaves.
Sunshine,
I’ve been brushing up on my ancient Sumerian.
I snorted and almost shot pie out my nose. Sure, brushing up on ancient Sumerian, as anyone normal tended to do.
I picked up this book and realized I translated a part about slayers wrong several years back. Here’s the real translation: ‘And so the slayer shall seek solace with the devil. Then, and only then, will she live, hell’s rules notwithstanding. For otherwise, she will not survive past the year one and twenty. Darkness will come for her, and it is not known. Heretofore, no slayer has ever lived without the devil and escaped the dark.’
We’ll talk soon. Don’t give up hope.
Eddie.
I loosened a breath, shaky with the threat of tears, and read the note again. And again. Each time hoping the words would rearrange themselves into something less horrific.
Year one and twenty. Twenty-one. My twentieth birthday was in just a few days. So if I refused to become the devil’s bride, I wouldn’t make it to my twenty-first?
Something dark, the demon had warned.
It is not known.
...no slayer has ever lived without the devil and escaped the dark.
I slumped back in the chair, the few bites of pie I’d eaten sitting uncomfortably high in my throat. If I refused the devil, the darkness would come for me within a year, if not sooner.
If not already.
Chapter Five
Marry the devil or die within a year by the hand of some mysterious...thing. That was hardly a fair choice, and I was sick to death of being boxed into a corner to make choices I didn’t want to.
During my nightly patrol, I went through the motions with two vamps, easily staking them through the hearts with minimal splatter, and they disappeared to wherever they went when death caught up with them a second time. In the back of my head, though, it felt strange taking the cemetery vamps out when I wouldn’t dream of doing that to those next door. It didn’t seem fair.
What separated one group from the other? The fact that I’d allowed one of those vamps between my legs and probably could have easily had another? That they had brains and brawn and didn’t always snap their jaws in my face? Well...yes, but it was more than that. They made me feel special, and not just because I was the slayer. Everything I was, the sum of all my parts, seemed important to them.
I wasn’t sure what to do with this line of thinking, so I stashed it away for later. Good timing, too, because an uneasy feeling skated up my neck. Someone was watching me. I faked like I hadn’t noticed, continuing up the paths of the cemetery on light feet, as my senses burned.
It was probably just a vampire. If it was another demon sent to drag me to hell with a wedding veil on my head, I would revolt on the grounds of lack of creativity. Then I would stab the demon in the throat with my stake. The threat of a forced marriage tended to make me stabbier than usual, but this didn’t feel like a prelude to an ‘I don’t.’ For one, I didn’t smell any brimstone, no matter how hard I sniffed. I didn’t sense any vampires nearby, either, so this strange feeling I had hinted at something...other.
My heart knocked against my ribs and my palms grew clammy. I didn’t want other. Not when it could sink dread into my stomach with thousand-pound barbs. And not when it could kill me like it had every other slayer before my twenty-first birthday.
When I followed the curve of the path around a tall, wide headstone, a man appeared, not there and then there in a blink. I stopped about six feet away from him, both of us instantly assessing. His eyes, neither vampire nor demon but a watery blue, sized me up from head to toe. Long straggly blond hair swept the shoulders of a tan bowling shirt with striped sleeves and Paul stitched across the front. No way did this guy bowl, though. Sometimes you can just tell, the same way you can tell someone’s going to be a dick customer at The Bean Dream before they even opened their mouth.
“Fancy meeting you here.” His voice sounded rusty, unused.
“Sure.” I nodded, willing myself not to back away. “Whatever you say, Paul. What did you do with the guy you stole the shirt from?”
He chuckled, an unpleasant sound that rolled a shiver up my back. “Fancy meeting you here.”
I blinked and rewound the mental tape of the last minute. Yeah. He’d said that already. What kind of game was he playing?
“Okay, well...” I swallowed. “You’re here for nefarious purposes, I’m guessing, so I’m going to start killing you now.”
He drifted forward, making every muscle in my body cringe backward, except he hadn’t moved from his spot. He did it again, pressing toward me and yet staying put. The static noise vibrated out of him as he held my gaze with his.
“Lovely...night...”
The words pounded against my ears even though he hadn’t moved his mouth to speak them.
His presence crushed the air from my lungs until they held nothing but panic. Plenty enough to consume me.
“Lovely night...for a stroll...isn’t it?”
My body had seized up, as if locked in whatever weird spell he’d put me under. I couldn’t move, couldn’t blink. Paul’s face swam behind a haze of tears, automatically triggered by my horror and my inability to close my eyes against it. His whole face warped into some kind of nightmare blob, his image fritzing from six feet away to within inches of my nose and back again. What the hell was happening?
“Lovely night for a stroll, isn’t it?”
A gasp rang in my ears, loud and sharp, followed closely by an awful pain in my chest.
“Lovely night...”
“Ms. Harrison?” a voice asked, male, familiar.
“...for a stroll, isn’t it?” I whispered. Those words had come out of me, but...
Paul was gone. The static noise gone.
I blinked down at the pain, sudden and bright and excruciating. Icy dread tumbled down into my gut for a crash-landing. My stake punctured Papa Smurf on my T-shirt through his eye, and his head and most of his body had bloomed purple with the spread of blood. My blood. I’d stabbed myself with my own stake. Not through my heart, but much too close for comfort. I swallowed hard at the sight, disbelief making a strangled sound at the back of my throat.
“Ms. Harrison, you all right?”
With my mouth pushed tight against a scream, I yanked out the stake. Blood rushed from the wound in dizzying waves, so I held one hand to it to staunch the flow and used the other to cover everything with my leather jacket. Taking a steadying breath, I glanced as nonchalantly as I could over my shoulder.
Tim, the cemetery groundskeeper, stood behind me, a deep crease between his salt-and-pepper eyebrows.
“Fine,” I lied without turning around. “How are you?”
“I forgot my thermos.” He pointed in the direction of his work shed near the back of the cemetery. “Was just on my way to get it. Without my coffee in the morning, I’m a real bear, even to dead folks.”
“You and me both,” I said, but I could hardly hear myself over the pain, over my mind whirring, over my erratic pulse. “If you want to lock up behind you, feel free. I think I’ll go now.”
Before I bled to death. Would I even make it to the vamps’ place? I was starting to feel all swimmy and disconnected from reality because I didn’t typically go around stabbing myself. I had staked myself. Panic rose up within me and threatened to swallow me whole.
“You sure you all right?”
I nodded and swallowed again, my mouth tasting like copper. “Did you see anyone else when you got here?”
He grunted. “Just you, talking to yourself.”
Not all that surprising since humans forgot about vampires as soon as they looked away from them. It had to be the same for...Paul, even though he definitely wasn’t a vampire.
I turned to leave, holding my jacket closed over the hole in my chest. “Well, have a lovely night.”
