by Mara Gan
“Where does the instinct come from, anyway?”
“Honestly? You have to have something of a mean streak, Princess. A latent—or in some of our cases, not-so-latent—desire to do others harm.” He eyed me with what I could only describe as sad admiration. “Which I’m glad you don’t have.”
I puffed my cheeks out. “There’s nothing you can teach me to make me fight like that?”
He considered, hesitating. “Not quickly, no. But why don’t you show me the self-defense Anin taught you? I might be able to expand on that. It would certainly make me feel better to know you’ve got something aside from blaster training.”
I brightened. “Okay.” I paused. “Wait—are we going to use swords?”
He chuckled. “No. I’m not brave enough to give you anything sharp just yet.”
I scowled. “But they look really cool. Yours is especially neat. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
He shook his head, smiling down at me. “You like the falx, do you?”
I nodded. “And you’re so good with it. Can you use other weapons too?”
He shrugged. “I could use any weapon you gave me,” he said easily. “I’ve tried them all at some point or another. But I don’t really need them and relying on them is never wise. Besides, in self-defense, the best weapons are whatever objects happen to be near you.”
He led me over to one of the training circles, away from the main square, where Skore and Eute were facing off. Most of the people who had been there when we arrived seemed to be wrapping up their workouts, wiping sweat off their faces with towels as they packed up, but a few were still practicing or training. I wondered vaguely what happened to the people that Clee had beaten up; I knew they had protective gear, but Clee hadn’t been gentle. I hoped they were okay.
Perseus faced me, his posture relaxed, his face tense.
I looked up at him as I slid my shoes off to stand on the mat. “What?” I teased. “Afraid I’ll hurt you?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Something of the opposite, I’m afraid.”
“I thought this was just instruction,” I replied, standing directly in front of him. “How could you possibly hurt me?”
“You’re kind of a midget.”
I stuck my tongue out. “I’m not that short. So what do we do?”
“Let’s say someone came up behind you.” He moved behind me and put his arms under mine, placing his hands behind my head. “What would you—”
That was easy. I quickly put my arms skyward and slid down, out of his grasp, and rolled into a somersault, coming to a standing position in front of him.
I smiled. Truth be told, I enjoyed it when people underestimated me.
He nodded, pleased. “Very good,” he said, giving me a small smile. “I’m glad to see you remember something. Let’s try a different hold.”
He moved behind me again and wrapped his arms about my chest, the same way Clee had been attacked earlier.
I tried to slam my foot into his instep, the way Anin had taught me, but he quickly lifted me. I squeaked in surprise, struggling, my feet dangling above the floor. I tried kicking his knees, but I could see that wasn’t getting me anywhere.
“See what I mean?” he murmured in my ear. “No instinct.”
He set me down gently and I turned to face him, irritated. “What could I do in that instance? There’s no way to escape that!”
He shook his head. “That, little girl, is why you will never be a good fighter,” he replied. “Think. What did Clee do in the same situation?”
I thought for a moment and then blushed crimson. “But….” I stuttered. “But I couldn’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“You want me to do that?”
Perseus chuckled. “Princess, no man wants that. But I was not worried about it even crossing your mind, or I might not have picked you up. And regardless, everyone here is wearing”—he chose his words carefully—“protective gear.”
I blushed deeper. “Oh.”
“The point is, you need to inflict the specific kind of damage, however possible, that would make your captor let go,” he continued. “Distract him or her however you can. Use the tools you have; don’t go looking for strength. You don’t have that, and never will against 99 percent of the galaxy. But fighting isn’t about strength. There are many, many ways to fight. Find another way.” He regarded me thoughtfully. “Let’s try another one.”
He moved behind me again and wrapped one arm about my waist, making my chest flutter, while the other hand clamped down on my mouth. Instinctively my hands flew to the hand covering my mouth, trying hard to remove it, but it was iron.
I thought frantically to what he’d just said. What tools did I have? How could I distract him?
I opened my mouth and, lacking the leverage to bite him as I’d hoped, I swabbed my tongue over his palm.
He let go, dropping both arms as he examined his palm in surprise.
He looked from it to me and back again. “Did you just… lick me?”
Caught between amusement and embarrassment, I nodded. “You said use what tools I had. I couldn’t think of anything else.”
He laughed. Outright laughed. It was such a rare sound that I got goose bumps; it was thrilling, rich, like deep cello music. I loved the way it resonated in his chest. It made me want to make him laugh, always.
I instantly gave myself a mental smack.
“I’ll say this for you, little girl,” he said, wiping his palm on his shirt, “you win points for creativity.”
I brightened. “Really?”
“Really.” His eyes twinkled at me. “But now I know your trick, so you can’t use that one on me anymore.”
I scrunched my mouth up. “I’ll think of something else.”
“Let’s see how your defensive knowledge is. What would you do if confronted with several attackers?”
I thought for a moment. “Count them.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Interesting. Why?”
“So that when I run away, I’ll know how many are following me and how many might have gone another way to try trapping me from the front.”
He nodded, impressed. “Very smart, little girl. There’s hope for you yet. What else?”
“I’d take stock of their weapons.”
“Always wise.”
“And I’d run somewhere dark.”
“Because?”
I grinned. “Because then I can be on offense.”
“Good girl,” he said, pleased. “Alright. Do you think you can attack me?”
I gave him a sarcastic smile. “I think I can summon the will.”
He raised an eyebrow as he moved in front of me and started stalking me.
I rubbed my arm, feeling uncomfortable. “How do I attack?”
“Don’t go for my face,” he advised, circling me. “Common mistake.”
“But didn’t Clee do that?”
“Clee is experienced and quick,” he replied, continuing to circle. “She knows where to land a quick punch and how to do it. But aiming for the face is a bad idea unless you know what you’re doing.”
“Why?”
“The face is actually quite hard. Not a lot of soft spots. More likely that you’ll just end up hurting your hand, particularly since you’ll probably use your fist: another bad idea. If you aim for the face, use the heel of your palm and hit the nose. Or push your fingers into your opponent’s eyes. But don’t punch.”
“So what if I—” I started to swing a kick upward, aiming between his legs.
He easily caught my foot midair and twisted my leg, spinning me and knocking me off my feet. I landed on the mat with an oof!
He squatted beside me, grimacing. “Sorry, Princess,” he said, looking for all the world like he didn’t mean it. “I didn’t expect you to try that, and instinct got the better of me.”
I leaned up on my elbows and glared at him. “Don’t apologize. Is that all you’ve got?”
His expression turned sardonic. �
�Actually, little girl, I could have made that much worse,” he replied, his nose inches from mine. “But I remembered midway through the move that it was you.”
“Don’t let my status stop you, Protector.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, Princess.”
I glared at him, breathing labored. My gaze dropped to his mouth.
His warm, sensual mouth, that had once kissed me so—
I heard his slight intake of breath and he stood quickly, moving away from me. He held out a hand to help me up and I took it, disappointed.
“Lesson one: don’t aim for the groin unless you’re quick enough to get away with it. It doesn’t work on women, and on men, you’ll just make them angry.”
I scowled. “Noted.”
“Lesson two.”
I looked up and he smiled.
“Be quick enough to get away with it.”
“How?”
“You hesitated,” he answered. “Never hesitate. You’re thinking too much. Don’t even let your mind consider the options, the possibilities, the repercussions. If you know you need to fight, just do it. Any trained opponent can sense hesitation and we will take full advantage of it. The principle idea of training like this is to get your body to operate without your mind getting in the way.”
“You sensed my hesitation?”
He shrugged. “Not on a conscious level, perhaps, but I sensed it. In your eyes. Or in your kick; your kick was halfhearted at best. If you’re going to kick me, kick—”
He narrowly caught my foot as it swung upward again. Before I could even blink, he had yanked my foot forward, placed his other foot behind my free leg, and tripped me to the mat. He buffered my fall by keeping hold of my leg, but quickly pinned my arms over my head and trapped my legs between his knees.
He loomed over me, grinning faintly.
I choked on my breath, momentarily stunned. “How… how—” I shook my head. “I didn’t even blink!”
His eyebrow quirked. “Are you kidding me? That was slow.” He shook his head. “Be grateful I didn’t do what instinct told me to.”
I rolled my eyes at his arrogance. “And what did instinct tell you to do?”
“Ordinarily?” His mouth curved at one side. “I would have thrown you against the wall.”
I swallowed. “Thanks for not doing that. It sounds painful.”
“I normally wouldn’t bother buffering your fall, either, but I’d rather not spend yet another night in the infirmary with you.” He snorted. “Not that it took much effort; I’ve seen tumbleweeds that weigh more than you do.”
“Ha-ha,” I muttered. “I have a lot to learn.” I started to get up, but couldn’t budge his hold on my hands. I glanced up at him, wide-eyed.
“Yes, you do,” he murmured, eyeing me. His gaze swept over my face.
I could see a glimmer of emotion in him.
It was… pleasant, softening his harsh features.
My heart sped, my breath stuck in my throat; was he going to kiss me? Seeing him with Rania had been so painful, but I still wanted him. I still wanted him to kiss me, to feel his arms around me, to see him look at me the way he’d looked at Rania. What should I say? How could I convince him to kiss me again when I wanted it more than anything in the entire world? Maybe not speaking….
My lips parted, and I got my wish.
Perseus bent his head and covered my lips with his own.
My toes curled. Gods, I had missed this. For someone who had never kissed anyone before, I was oddly desperate for it.
His breath was warm and musky, and all him. His strength hovered over me, and I could actually feel things from him, even if they were tangled up in my own emotions.
Need. Want. Desire so strong he’s shaking from it. And….
Caring?
My whispered name fell from his lips, the sound pained.
Did he care about me?
I forgot my questions as he gently urged my lips open, sweeping his tongue inside my mouth. I moaned softly, rising off the ground to meet him, wanting more. I squirmed against his hold, struggling to get my hands free, my legs, anything—
He let go of my wrists and slid one arm around me, lifting me off the mat and pressing me hard against him. His kiss became urgent, fierce, possessive; his mouth bruised mine, and I loved it. He growled low in his throat as my hands slipped into his hair. He was holding me aloft, still kneeling over me, yet he seemed to have lost all sense of where he was or what he was doing. His mouth left mine, trailing a path of kisses along my cheek to my ear. His tongue traced the delicate ridges of my ear, and I gasped as he nibbled gently on the sensitive point—
He released me, dropping me roughly back on the mat as he stood and quickly moved away.
He stood away from me, breathing hard, gripping his head in his hands. I leaned up on my elbows, stunned, breathless, and needy. My lips felt swollen from his kiss.
“Perseus,” I breathed.
“Meda.” His voice was hoarse. “Meda.”
I moved to kneel on the mat, brushing my hair back, struggling to steady my breathing. “Perseus?” I said again, hesitant.
He drew in several shuddering breaths. “I apologize, Princess,” he said, his voice beginning to sound even. “That will never happen again.”
I stood, moving to stand next to him. “Why… why did you kiss me?” I asked softly, touching his arm. “Do—”
“This training session is over, Princess,” he said formally, refusing to look in my eyes and taking a step away from me. “I apologize for my behavior. I will call Egil to take you back to your quarters.”
With a stiff nod, he was gone, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
“Remind me again,” Perseus said, entering the cockpit to sit at the console next to me, “why we are doing this?”
“Because,” I replied. “It’s my job.”
“You make diplomatic house calls now?”
“When the occasion calls for it. I used to do it all the time.”
“Was anyone trying to kill you then?” he asked, flicking the engine switch located above his head.
“Not to my knowledge.” I pushed a few buttons to charge the communications system. “But I’m sure someone thought about it.”
He snorted. “You’re terribly nonchalant about all this.”
I shrugged. “I could cower in fear in my quarters, I suppose,” I said, starting up the navigational array as I prepped my ship for departure. One of the readouts froze and I banged my fist against the console, frowning. “But why would I do that when I have such a skilled bodyguard to protect me?” I grinned at him. When he remained silent, I sighed. “Besides, that’s no way to live.”
“I guess it isn’t,” he replied. “But then, neither is dying.”
I said nothing as I finished the startup sequence. I sat back and exhaled, eyeing the lights of the console in front of me. I ran my finger through the dust and wished I had more time to do this sort of thing.
Perseus glanced at me sideways. “Something wrong, Princess?”
I shook my head. “Quite the opposite,” I said, smiling faintly. “I haven’t left the station in two years. I miss getting out.” I ran my hands along the smooth panels. “Despite having been born under a bad sign, I rather like my freedom. I think I would have been a pilot if I’d not been chosen.”
“You’ve flown ships before?”
“All the time,” I confirmed. “I passed level five a few years ago.”
“Level five?” he asked, genuinely surprised. “That’s incredible. I certainly wouldn’t have guessed as much from this antique you’re flying. It still has steering gear, for god’s sake.”
“Hey,” I said defensively. “Don’t hate on the ship. This baby’s gotten me through a lot.”
“What, intergalactic trash bins?”
I scowled. “This ship can fly just fine, thank you very much. I’ve had it since I was really little.”
“You must be anc
ient.”
“You’re a jerk.”
“That’s putting it mildly.” His eyebrow twitched. “I am surprised you enjoy flying so much.”
“You’ll find there’s a lot about me you don’t know. Have you passed level five?”
He finished his startup sequence. “I have no idea.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve never taken piloting lessons or tests, Princess.”
“Never? But… how did you learn?”
He shrugged. “The old-fashioned way.”
“You mean the hard way.”
“Same thing.”
“Why have you never taken lessons?”
He tensed slightly. “There were not a lot of opportunities in Sirtis to provide for my education,” he said finally. “I was self-taught from the age of ten, when I… acquired… my first ship.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You mean stole.”
He flicked the communications switch. “Corvax to Central.”
Callie’s voice came through the speakers. “Central here.”
“The ship is secure. We’re ready to disembark.”
“Understood. You’re all clear. Safe journey.”
Perseus flicked the switch off and took the controls, steering the ship out of the docking bay. We cleared the bay doors effortlessly as he maneuvered the ship into steady position for light speed.
I sat back and studied the sensor readings, feeling guilty. I watched for any sign of asteroids, meteors, or any other space flotsam we might run into, while Perseus made the jump to light speed expertly, if silently.
I monitored a few passing comets absently. The last thing we wanted was to hit anything or have anything hit us. At the speeds we were moving, hitting even a small object could be worse than a small bomb. That was the problem with kinetic energy; the faster we went, the worse any impact would be, no matter the size. My ship had decent armor, but it could only do so much.
“I’m sorry,” I said finally.
He looked at me curiously. “For what?”
“I didn’t mean to….” I faltered. “I know you had a difficult upbringing. I didn’t mean to attack your ways.”
Perseus smiled ruefully, turning his attention back to the stars flying past him. “You didn’t offend me, Princess.”
