“Good.” Raphael spread his legs apart and held up his fists directly in front of his chest. “Come at me. Do not hold back.” As his light eyes danced under the sun, I realized that he was smiling, as if he knew he was going to enjoy this.
Cracking my neck, I readied my fists and charged. I was this close to landing the first blow on him, but at the last possible second he sidestepped, completely dodging my hand.
Damn, this guy’s fast. Before I could turn to face him, he grabbed my arm that was still outstretched and twisted. Since half of me was incapacitated, I threw a punch at him with my left hand, but with skill, he blocked that using his other hand.
Keeping a hold on both my arms and showing no signs of letting go, Raphael swept his foot underneath mine, causing me to fall to the ground. In a flash he was on top of me and gingerly holding my neck.
“You’re dead.” Raphael leapt off me, landing on his two feet gracefully. “Again.”
Again? I had to fight (and probably lose) to this guy again? This was definitely going to be a super fun Saturday.
We both got in our own ready stance, and as I met his stare, I knew I wasn’t going to make the first move this time. Everyone knows the person or thing who made the first move usually lost. Or at least got the crap beat out of them.
“How about you come after me this time?” I yelled across the field after a few minutes passed. The sun recently decided to venture out from behind the clouds. And that, let me tell you, was a fine how-do-you-do at nine in the morning on a Saturday. A day that I like to sleep in till at least ten.
“The outcome will be the same,” Raphael said simply.
We’ll see about that.
I said nothing; only motioned for him to come.
And that he did. That he certainly did. It took every ounce of concentration I had to block every blow he threw at me. Not once did I have an opening to get a fist of my own in there. It was like…well, as much as I hate to reference it, it was like Raphael had turned into one of those Agents in the Matrix, moving way too fast to be human.
Remembering that movie, I decided to use one of the main guy’s moves. As Raphael was attacking me, I expertly wrapped both my arms around his and held them there, still. The mostly one-sided barrage of attacks had turned into a stalemate.
Also referencing the movie, I kept my head away from his, fearing he’d try to head-butt me. For all you kiddies out there: head-butts are not fun for your head, no matter what some movies show.
Not wanting to infringe on copyrights, I made up my own move. I grabbed the back of Raphael’s hands, so he couldn’t hold on to me, and pulled myself. I was horizontal to the grassy ground for a split second, and then I kicked his chest hard with both my feet, and let his hands go the exact moment I did.
Raphael, who had been clearly unsuspecting of that move, flew back about nine feet before he managed to stand. Purifier strength was, occasionally, a tad on the awesome side. However instead of saying what a good job I’d done, he just came running back to try to land his own double kick on me.
I was ready. I ducked and rolled, missing both kicks. Both would have landed on my face, which made me think two things. One: damn. Raphael must be really, really flexible, and two: he was not holding back.
And, even though he told me to not hold back, I kinda did. I just thought it was strange to go all out on a fight with the guy who’s supposed to be teaching me. What if I broke his neck? Or his arm? Or his leg? Or his…nose?
God only knows how many times I’d broken Gabriel’s nose. Seriously. Only God knows. Gabriel and I lost count somewhere after ten.
Raphael must not care about getting hurt. And on top of that, he also didn’t care about hurting me either, taking account of the fact that his foot had come an inch away from my face.
Something in my brain switched as I thought, that’s it. I was not going to hold back anymore. Raphael was going down. Down, I said, D-O-W-N.
Except my plan was slightly flawed, because I was the one going down.
I was falling, and within seconds was on the ground. Again. And Raphael’s foot was coming down on my face, which I guessed was his way of saying ‘I win, you lose, now you have a big bruise.’ He was probably going to stop short and tell me exactly that – in a more dignified, refined way, of course.
The only problem was, I wasn’t going to let him do that.
I grabbed his foot and used my strength to stop him, throwing it away from me. Jumping up, I noticed Raphael was surprised by my sheer strength.
How did I notice his approval? He smiled—only for a second though, for as quick as it came, it disappeared. Probably to never see the light of day again. When I saw that true, genuine smile on his handsome face, I comprehended how few and far between his smiles were. I could, in all honesty, count the smiles, grins, and smirks I’d seen on one hand, without using my thumb.
What did Raphael think, that I was gonna let his foot come down on my face? Um, no. I didn’t think so. I wasn’t one to let feet come down on any portion of my body, whether it was going to stop short or not. Unless I was unconscious. Then I have no control on whether a foot came down on me.
And I was certainly not unconscious.
I rolled my shoulders; they were tensing. And tensing right in the middle of a fight was not good. Especially when fighting an expert like Raphael. Running towards him, I knew exactly what he was thinking.
He thought I was going to try hitting him, like silly me had in the first round. But I had something different planned. I feigned a punch, spinning around to his side and kicking the back of his knee, which made him fall to the ground.
Did I say fall to the ground? I meant almost fall to the ground. Almost.
Right before his other knee went down, Raphael straightened that leg out and swung it around, twisting on the knee that I had previously kicked, and knocked me on the ground.
The ground and I always meet under the most terrible circumstances.
Before he could stand and straighten himself, I hopped into a standing position, my speed slightly faster than his.
This fight was actually getting a little fun. Yeah, some girls would think ice skating was fun, others might love a good romance novel, and others might even love going to a fancy restaurant and getting flowers.
I was happiest while kicking a little Demon ass, or while reading up on new ways to purify them in Killing Demons: The Fun Ways, or even while getting some Mr. Hero’s. And flowers? Puh-lease. I’d much rather get a cool metal stake that didn’t disappear with the Nightwalker’s death flame.
A girl could dream, right?
I smiled when I realized that I was sweating. I was really sweating! Talk about exciting! This day was getting better and better! And this time, I was serious. No sarcasm there, for once.
Raphael and I collided as we each tried hitting one other. Not one of us landed a blow; we were both too good to let any past our defenses. That’s when Raphael grabbed my wrist and twisted me toward him, my back colliding against his hard, muscular chest.
Under a normal situation, this would actually be nice. But I had a feeling he was going to pretend to bite me and say I was dead again, so before he had a chance to do that, I shifted my feet so they were two feet apart and pushed against him with my backside. And, while pushing him with my ass, I pulled him with all my might, flipping him up and over me.
He landed on the ground with a loud thud.
I acted like I had a stake in my hand and in seconds was on top of Raphael, who had remained on the ground, unmoving. While sitting on top of his stomach, I held my imaginary stake to his heart, saying, “You’re dead.”
Raphael leaned his head up and looked at the hand that was expertly placed above his heart. He then looked at me and said, “Good. But what if you don’t have a stake?”
“Then I…kick your head off,” I answered, embarrassed that I was out of breath. He gave me a look that asked if I was insane, so I said, “A few well-placed kicks and your decomposi
ng neck will be like a toothpick. And after a roundhouse kick, it’ll come clean off. What?” I leaned down, closer to his face, for he had both eyebrows raised as if I had just pulled that tidbit from my ass. “It’s true! It’s happened before, I swear! Right, Gabriel?”
And on cue, Gabriel responded, “Yep. Seen it with my own eyes. Well, the peripherals anyway.”
The man below me seemed to give up. “Alright, alright. I’ve never heard of that before, but I will have to try it next time I see a Nightwalker. Now—” Raphael’s head leaned back to the grassy ground as his emerald gaze twinkled. “—you can get off of me, Kassandra.”
I looked down, realizing that I was sitting on him comfortably, as if I did it in my spare time, sitting on handsome men’s chests like a model. “Oops.”
Yes. I actually said oops. I didn’t think I’d said that since…well, I didn’t think I had ever said oops before. As a Purifier, I skipped the oopsie daisy phase and went straight into swearing. I personally blamed the men in my life. Gabriel was not satisfied until he said about three hundred swearwords a day. And if Michael stubbed his toe, his noble Englishman demeanor was lost to a sailor, who shouted at the top of his lungs three f-bombs, ten assholes and about a thousand hells.
Cheeks burning, I slowly got off of him and stood up. I figured I’d be nice (and possibly earn some brownie points) and hold out a hand to him, offering to help him up. But I didn’t think he’d actually take my hand.
Raphael took my hand and pulled, both of which I did not expect.
Then I remembered I had been sitting on him, putting all my weight on his chest, and for quite a while, too. And, let me say, I was not one of those unhealthy girls who weighed a hundred pounds. Not in a million years. Muscle weighed more than fat, and that was definitely why I weighed so much.
I probably crushed his lungs, which was why he needed so much help getting up.
Or he took my hand to be polite, since I was being nice and offering.
But I was thinking it’s the first one.
“Good,” Raphael applauded me, his lips drawn into a thin line. But, coming from him, I should have known what was coming next. “It could have been better, though. Much better.”
“What?” I was aghast, angry. “But I beat you!” I reminded him, in case he forgot.
“Yes. Once. The second round. It only takes one time, Kassandra, for an enemy to get the better of you and you pay the ultimate price. That’s what makes our lives so dangerous. We have to be on high alert all the time.” Raphael had lost all trace of his good-looking tutor guise and had turned into a stern mentor with a penchant for frowns.
I rolled my eyes. I knew all that. A real Nightwalker would not have been as hard as Raphael to beat.
“Next time when I say do not hold back, do not hold back,” Raphael’s applauding tone had turned utterly harsh. “And if the time comes, when I feel you are ready, I shall not hold back either.”
“What?” Somehow, the thought of Raphael holding back while fighting me was insulting and demeaning. “I thought you were going all out!”
“I never said I wasn’t holding back. If I gave that fight my all you’d be dead. Or, at the least, broken into many tiny pieces,” Raphael replied smugly.
I couldn’t believe it. He had been holding back this entire time. What a jerk.
Jerk? Did I really just call him a jerk? Wow. Maybe Alyssa, who never swore, was rubbing off on me. I meant to call him an ass. Yeah, that’s what I meant to say.
“Now,” Raphael walked over to Gabriel, who actually seemed enthralled in the book, which was odd, since he never read and when he did, he did it with a sneer and an I’ll-kill-you look. “Gabriel. It is your turn. Let us see if you do a better job.”
Gabriel stood and handed me the book. He said, “Probably not, if I have to get in those positions with you. I don’t want my body pressed up against yours. It’d be different if you were a sexy female, but you’re just a sexy man. Don’t want that.”
I laughed. I couldn’t believe he just called Raphael sexy, even if it was true.
“What?” Gabriel looked at me through his shaggy blonde hair. He hadn’t gelled it today, which might have been the first time in a long time. “I was just saying what you were thinking.”
That made me want to throw the ten pound book I was holding at his face. I’d probably break his nose again.
But to my relief, Raphael ignored that comment entirely. “Demons do not care what you want, Gabriel. They are not going to change into an attractive form just for you.”
“Really?” Gabriel acted astounded, though I knew he really wasn’t. “Wow. All my life I thought that’s how it worked…well, thanks for putting me on the right track, buddy,” he said while setting a hand on Raphael’s shoulder.
Raphael stared at the hand that rested on his shoulder like it was a spider with three heads and sixteen legs. A look that had anger, confusion, and pity.
Gabriel quickly took it off.
Raphael turned to me for one last time before heading out into the field. “And be sure to read that book well, because after I am through with Gabriel, I am going to quiz you both.”
“How do you know what’s all in this book?” I asked while Gabriel ran back behind Raphael.
“Trust me,” the man spoke honestly, “I know.”
It was Gabriel’s turn to ask a question, his yellow brows up in surprise. “Hey! How come you didn’t tell me this before you fought Kass?”
Raphael sighed and walked away, finally replying, “Because I want you to fail and Kass to succeed.”
Gabriel’s mouth dropped, and he didn’t speak for a moment, quietly contemplating. He was very slow in saying, “I knew it! It’s because I’m a man, isn’t it? Because I don’t have boobs, like Kass.”
“Gabriel, you’re such an ass,” I said, like it was the simplest thing in the world, and to me it was.
“I knew it. But still, if I would have known…I would have read more.” Gabriel started to walk towards Raphael, who was waiting with an irritated look on his face, turning to yell, “That book makes a great pillow by the way!”
“Oh, my bruises!” I whined, simultaneously enjoying the recline and softness of the couch.
“That’s nothing!” Gabriel sat next to me, feeling the same as me. This couch was really comfy after you got a beating. Not a real beating, of course, but it was pretty much the same. Raphael had quizzed us on the book, and since neither of us knew anything, he made us fight. Him. More. Again and again.
We were pooped. I’d never been so sore in my life. And that’s the truth. Raphael was a damn good fighter. To think he was holding back. It made me wonder how good he was when he wasn’t holding back.
Michael was sitting in his chair, the audience to our whine fest. He listened as Gabriel and I tried to one up each other by our injuries.
“I have bruises on my bruises!” Gabriel yelled, holding out the arm that had a purple bruise.
Michael took off his glasses and started cleaning them, shaking his head. “I don’t see how you’re going to top that, Kass.”
I sighed, because it was probably true. Winning a competition with Gabriel was impossible. And comparing our injuries was no different. “You’re right.”
“Well.” Michael got to his feet. “I have a surprise for both of you.”
Gabriel and I met eyes. There were two kinds of surprises: the bad kind and the good kind. I wondered which one this was. We followed Michael into the kitchen, where a huge box was sitting on the counter.
I cocked my head. “What could possibly be in that box?” My mind ran through all the possibilities.
Gabriel jumped up and down, holding his hands together, like he was five years old receiving his first book about Demons. What a strange, strange boy.
“I hope it’s a garden gnome” was what came out of his mouth.
Out of all the possibilities that I had just recently ran through my head, I could honestly say that was not one of them.
“What? A garden gnome?” Michael questioned, eyebrows high.
“Hey!” Gabriel defended himself, “It’s not my fault that they were the only semi-colored things in the game I just played. Those people were subconsciously trying to get our generation addicted to garden gnomes!”
“Right,” I said slowly, wondering when he played this said game. Gabriel’s never home playing a game. He’s always busy with girls, purifying, or more girls.
Shaking his head, Michael took the top off and sifted through the box. “Now, I bought one for each of you, so as to not make either of you jealous. Because, I have noticed that, upon occasion, you both turn into two small children. Ah, this one is Gabriel’s.” He lifted it out and handed it to Gabriel.
For a moment, all he could do was stare at the long, shiny metal object. Why? Because it was beautiful.
What was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I be normal and think that an outfit was cute and a ball gown was beautiful? Leave it to me to think that the face Gabriel made when I told him I accidentally dropped his toothbrush in the toilet (which I so haven’t done…on purpose) was cute and that a sword was beautiful.
But I couldn’t help it. The sword was expertly crafted and designed, with what appeared to be silver and gold. The golden part was hand-crafted into thorns and a single rose on the top, making the blade appear as if it were the stem. This really was beautiful.
“Oh wait.” Michael took the sword from Gabriel, who still was not saying a thing, and handed it to me. “This one’s yours.” He began to rummage through the box once more, saying, “I’m not sure how I could have mistaken yours for his.”
I could not take my eyes off it, figuring it cost a fortune. A thousand, at least, which made this the most expensive gift Michael had got us. Once I got a hold of myself, I said, “Yeah. Well that is understandable. Sometimes Gabriel can act pretty girly. No offense, it’s just sometimes I wonder.”
“Okay, thank you for that. And how come when someone says no offense they really mean don’t kill me for what I’m about to say?” Gabriel tapped my back. “And who’s the one here that hasn’t had their first kiss yet? I worry about you all the time, Kass.” His blue eyes stared straight into mine, because he knew he struck a death blow there.
Nightwalkers Page 11
