by Dannika Dark
He headed off the property and merged onto the main road, wondering if he was a complete loon for taking this job.
Ella looked out the window with an infectious smile. His eyes skimmed down to her beige dress. This one was shorter and would have given him a glimpse of her legs had it not been for the black leggings. The sleeves were also long, as if she was trying to cover herself from head to toe. He licked his lip, admiring the shape of her body.
Ella suddenly grabbed the wheel and jerked it left. The car bounced when they hit the curb, and Simon swerved back into traffic.
She touched his right hand. Pay attention before you kill a squirrel. Where are we going?
Speaking with his mind was starting to make him feel like an idiot, so he also answered her aloud. “Are you up for a little ass-kicking this morning? Thought we’d squeeze in a few bar fights before dinner.”
Her expression turned stony, and she nodded before letting go of his hand.
Ella acted as if terrorizing juicers was part of her daily routine. No complaints? No further questions? Perhaps Hannah had deadened her soul after all. While he could toss knives at Ella all day, he’d never be able to assess her skills unless he watched her in a real fight. He needed to grade her reflexes, her ability to change tactics and deal with distractions. That was the only way he’d discover which fears were limiting her growth as a fighter.
Simon kept his eyes on the road, but as he turned corners, he glimpsed her touching the glass. He didn’t have his stereo on, and it was as if she were searching for sound. Each time they stopped at a red light, he’d rev the engine to watch her expression change.
After a fifteen-minute drive, they reached the Breed side of town, and Simon parked his car in an empty lot. They got out and strolled up the road, passing two Vampires who were wearing dark shades. Even if they shielded their inky eyes with sunglasses, you could always spot them by their flawless complexion, often free of wrinkles or other blemishes. Their skin had a unique, healthy glow to it that was indescribable, as if they’d reacquired the natural skin that they were born with.
Simon couldn’t help but notice Ella’s wandering gaze. There wasn’t anything special about their surroundings, but something about the way she examined every little thing put him on edge.
She peered over her shoulder at one of the Vampires, who looked back at her, lifting his shades and giving her a wink.
“Come on, you,” Simon grumbled, clutching her arm and hurrying her along. “That’s not a man who will take you to dinner; that’s a man who will drink you for dinner.”
When they reached a bar called Roughnecks, Ella grasped his hand.
This is your master plan?
“Best place I could think of with inexperienced rogues on the prowl. They tend to scout for new Learners, but not many dainty little flowers such as yourself wander into these parts,” he said, gesturing with his hands. “They’ll probably line up to see who can take home the prize. It might take you all morning to fight them off, and by then it’ll be time for lunch. There’s a nice place up the road that serves lamb.”
She stepped close. You move your arms a lot when you talk. Just remember we’re holding hands, and that makes us look like a couple of idiots out here playing London Bridge.
He glanced around. “Sweetheart, let’s get something straight. I don’t have to hold your hand, and I mean that in more ways than just one. My job is to fashion you into a weapon, and we’re here to see just how capable you are on your own. Whatever happens, you can expect no help from me. You’re on your own, so give it everything you’ve got. I’ll be sitting on the sidelines, tallying up the points based on what you’re doing right and wrong. Pretend I’m not even here. Off you go.”
Just as he heard a curse fly through her head, he let go of her hand and stalked toward the entrance. Four men were hanging out by the front door, smoking something that smelled illegal. Some Breeds used human drugs, but specialty drugs made with magic were often preferred. Usually it was nothing more than a little marijuana laced by a Sensor who transferred an emotion into the dry leaves for a hallucinatory effect.
Ella followed him but kept her distance. When her footsteps fell too far behind, he almost turned until she ran forward and caught up with him.
“Looks like the gods answered my prayers,” one of the men murmured.
Their eyes feasted upon his redheaded companion. Most men didn’t care who a woman walked into a pub with; it only mattered who she left with. Unless a Mage carried a visible mark that showed they were bonded, Breed men wasted no time making their moves on a woman.
Simon truly loathed places like these. He missed English pubs, which were cozy neighborhood establishments where everyone knew everyone. American bars were noisy places with dance floors and feeble minds. He glared at several men who looked about as intellectual as a group of schoolchildren eating glue.
He sat on the barstool and used his eyes to communicate that she leave an empty seat between them.
It didn’t take but two seconds before a man in a leather coat, who looked like a troglodyte, made his move. “Can I buy you a drink, sweetie pie?” He scratched his thick muttonchops, ogling her outfit.
Simon smirked when Ella’s lip curled in disgust.
The man snapped his fingers at the bartender. “She’ll have a silver bullet.”
Simon had never heard of a silver bullet, which meant it was probably the house specialty. Most bars and clubs had a special drink mixed with powerful magic that made people do foolish things. He faced Ella and gave a subtle shake of his head—a warning to deny what the man offered.
She shifted her gaze toward the bartender and watched him mix the drink.
Muttonchops drew in a deep breath and smiled lazily. “I love it when a Mage doesn’t conceal her energy. Does your light taste as sweet as you look?”
It wasn’t until then that Simon realized how perceptive Ella was at interpreting a question versus a remark. Maybe it was the arch of the brow or the tilt of the head that gave it away, but she always responded accordingly.
Her reaction amused Simon immensely. She snobbishly lifted her chin, eyes hooded as if deciding not to give him the time of day.
Naturally, that kind of behavior set a challenge with Breed men.
When the drinks arrived, Simon sipped his beer and remained uninvolved so he wouldn’t be mistaken for competition.
Ella curled her fingers around the narrow glass, and Simon speared her with a hot gaze.
Defiantly, she lifted her glass and knocked back the drink.
“Bottoms up,” he murmured. Perhaps it would do her some good. Nothing erased fears or inhibitions like a good snog or a strong drink.
“Honey, is he bothering you?” an older waitress asked. She had round hips, and her ample cleavage sparkled with flecks of gold.
Ella waved her hand and shook her head. She could have asked Ella if she wanted anything, so again, Simon noted how appropriate her gestures were. One would never assume she was deaf. Plenty of Breed women didn’t waste their breath talking to men in bars.
Simon called the bartender over, keeping his voice low. “Say, what’s in that drink she just had?”
The bartender—a young man with a spiky black Mohawk—leaned forward and pinched his goatee. “That one only lasts fifteen minutes, which is why we call it a bullet. Some of the other bars serve drinks that knock the customers out all night, but this one’s great because the effect is short-lived and they come back for more.”
When he disappeared to mix more drinks, Simon spun around and perched his elbows on the bar.
Muttonchops leaned in closer to his prey. “My name’s Arsen. If you don’t want to talk, that’s fine by me. Nothing wrong with being shy.”
Ella circled her finger around the rim of her glass and watched him.
“Let’s take a stroll,” Arsen said, grasping her hand. “We’ll go around back where it’s nice and quiet. My light’s strong, little girl. Might be more than you c
an handle, but I promise you’ve never had it better.”
Simon looked over his shoulder to observe Ella’s expression. Arsen had her hand in his, and Simon wondered if she could hear his thoughts. Her eyes didn’t brighten the way they did with him.
Arsen tugged insistently, and she slid off her barstool, a hazy look on her face.
With excruciating patience, Simon waited until they exited the bar before he followed. He turned right, and when he reached the corner, he took in the scene unfolding on the side of the building. Two men were watching Ella and Arsen, waiting like vultures for a turn to taste her light.
When Arsen reached for her hands, ready to bind his light with hers, she spun out of his grasp.
Clever girl.
A smart Mage never assumes they can reason with their opponent. And when a woman pushes an aggressor away, his first instinct is to grab her, making it difficult to escape or attack.
When Arsen reached for her arm again, she slapped him so hard that all the men cringed. Before he could react, she flashed behind him and pulled up his underwear with a hard yank.
Simon howled with laughter.
Arsen swung around and gripped her braid, flinging her against the wall. Simon tensed, suppressing the urge to intervene and kick some muttonchop ass.
Ella’s techniques were breathtaking. Her flaws shone through, but her fearlessness was a thing of beauty.
“Goddamn,” a man exclaimed. “I’ve never seen a woman fight like that before. You sure she’s a woman? There might be a tiny dick under that dress.”
Arsen flung her against the old chain-link fence, and it bowed with her weight. As it sprang forward, her dress snagged on one of the metal links, preventing her from flashing out of his grasp.
“Bloody hell,” Simon murmured. “Hannah, you’re going to kill this girl with your fashion nonsense.”
Arsen curled his meaty arm around her narrow waist. Ella relaxed submissively, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she reached around and pressed herself against him.
The men standing around grew thick in the trousers. Meanwhile, a hot coal settled in the pit of Simon’s stomach, and he removed his sunglasses.
Ella walked Arsen backward toward the building, their bodies pressed close. Arsen became submissive and let the petite woman pin him against the wall. She unlatched his buckle, moving her body like a serpent against his.
“Jesus Christ,” he moaned. “Sweetie pie, we have a crowd. Do you want them to watch?”
Simon was two seconds away from walking off and tearing up the contract. It wasn’t uncommon for a Learner to get off on all that raw energy, especially during a fight when it was coursing through their body in high doses.
“Give it to her good,” an onlooker said. “She’s begging for it.”
Arsen looked down, his chin against his chest, while Ella unfastened his trousers. She looked like a woman who needed a hard man inside her.
His eyes hooded when she reached between her legs.
Simon was torn on whether to intervene or take off. If she was under the influence of the drink, then she wasn’t thinking clearly.
With lightning speed, Ella palmed a push dagger with a two-inch blade and drove it into Arsen’s chest. He dropped like a sack of potatoes, eyes wide.
This young, fresh-faced Learner gracefully turned like a ballerina to face her audience. Then, with a cunning gleam in her eye, she crooked her finger at them.
Simon took another bite of his bratwurst sandwich, the heels of his shoes thumping against the concrete wall he was sitting on. Eating his meal on the street was worth it after seeing the look on the restaurant manager’s face when Ella walked in with her chin high and waited expectantly for him to seat her. They’d gone into one of the classiest digs in town, and her beige dress had blood spattered all over it. Some of her hair had loosened from its braid, and she hadn’t bothered healing up her bruised face. It would have been a riot if he’d seated them.
“How’s your sausage?” he asked, holding up his own.
She nodded.
Moments ago, Simon had crossed the street to buy lunch from a food truck while Ella sat on a low wall and healed herself in the sunlight. Waiting for their order, he watched as she readjusted her braid and reassembled every hairpin. She was incredibly different from human girls her age. Well-spoken, conservative, mature—all boring traits to a man like Simon. And yet… he was bewitched.
Ella wadded up her wrapper, having finished her giant sausage before he had even made it halfway through his.
Simon opened a cardboard container filled with what Americans called cheese fries. “Here, try this,” he said, holding up a soggy fry.
Ella wrinkled her nose.
“Go on.” He held it to her lips, and cheese dribbled on her chin.
Ella shoved his hand into his face, and the fry stuck on his nose before falling off—cheese glazing his lips and chin. She licked her thumb and studied his reaction.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re about as endearing as a rhino’s arse?”
She gripped his sticky hand, and her voice sounded like a sharp instrument in his head. What did you just say to me?
“Perhaps you should try harder to read lips.”
Maybe your tongue ring is giving you a speech impediment.
Simon licked the cheese off his lower lip and gave her a good look at what had piqued her curiosity.
Ella shifted her gaze to a motorcycle driving by. You have an interesting way of dodging my questions, but I can see through all that. Maybe those women at the party would fall for your sexual distractions, but do you think they actually cared what you were saying? Did you even bother to strike up an intelligent conversation with them? You try so hard to behave like a clown, but it’s a façade so people won’t realize that your IQ surpasses their weight. I may be deaf, but I’m not blind. Why do you waste time with women who don’t challenge your intellect? Are you afraid they’ll see who you really are?
He broke contact and wiped off his face with a napkin. Some of the cheese had clumped in his hair, so he pretended to be picking it clean when he was really avoiding eye contact. No one had ever been so blunt with him and gotten it right.
When he finally looked up, she had the kind of glint in her eyes a person gets when they’ve got you in check. It perturbed him enough that he grasped her hand.
“And tell me all about the men you’ve seduced. Geniuses, I suppose? Don’t think I’m not aware of your interlude with James Dmitry.”
Her cheeks reddened.
“He’s a blabbermouth, that one. So why didn’t you flatten him out like Muttonchops in the alley back there? Afraid of what Hannah might say if she found out her Learner was romping around in the sack?”
You don’t know anything.
“I know he tried to bind with you and you got all frigid on him. That seems curious. I don’t think I’ve ever met a young Mage who wasn’t anxious to lose their virginity with light sharing. I have to admit, sex is messier than a little binding and often less rewarding.”
Simon’s mind drifted to a few ladies who had given him better light than oral…
Stop thinking, she said. It’s leaking into my head, and I really don’t want to know all about the women you’ve slept with. You probably have more names in your black book than there are in the phonebook.
Simon laughed and bumped shoulders with her. “Love, I do believe you might be right.” After a thoughtful pause, he looked over his shoulder. “Why are you shielding your thoughts from me?”
Ella shrugged. Some things are private. I never thought I’d hear a voice again, and it’s just… strange to have you inside my head. I swear I can feel you snooping.
“So you weren’t able to hear the thoughts of that blighter back there?”
No, you’re the special one.
Simon crossed his legs at the ankle and watched a Mage flash up the road. “You should test out your mental link with your Creator. You share the same light
, so maybe she’s more likely to hear you than anyone else.”
I don’t want to speak to that bitch.
He chuckled. “That makes two of us.” Simon sensed her mood change; her energy dulled with remorse and sorrow. “How did you get matched up with Hannah?”
The back of Ella’s heels tapped against the short wall beneath them. She found me.
His brows drew together. “The Mageri didn’t pair you up?”
Ella stilled and watched him with inquisitive eyes. Is that how it’s normally done?
She was serious.
“Most of the time it’s a match, but not always. I just didn’t take Hannah for the type who sought out young girls with a rebellious streak.” He snorted. “Most of her Learners are dead, but as far as I know, they were all men.”
Her palm grew sweaty in his, and Simon’s eyes traveled down the length of her body until something caught his eye—a hole in her stocking. Just a small one on her thigh, but it looked like she had dirt on her skin. He licked his finger and rubbed at it.
She knocked his arm away and pulled her dress over the hole.
“I’ve never met an experienced girl so bashful,” he said to himself, rubbing his sweaty palm on his jeans. She couldn’t hear him now, but it gave him a chance to gather his thoughts. “Ella Freund, you are a curious little creature. You can take down a man twice your size with skills of seduction, and yet you behave like a virginal princess. I thought she forced you to wear those clothes,” he said, talking in an animated fashion with his hands, “but now I’m beginning to think you actually like playing the part. Are you just an actress performing a role?”
He jumped down and faced her, his arms folded.
She tilted her head to the side, giving him a pointed stare.
Maybe this had gone too far. Simon didn’t like the idea of getting too personal with Ella. Each time they formed a connection, his voice softened. She wasn’t as easily riled as most of the women he’d known, and that was a peculiar trait for one so young. Simon was easily three hundred years old, and this girl was barely in her twenties.
He snatched her hand and stepped close. “Do you want to know why you’ll never be a superior Mage? Pay close attention, because this is exactly what I’m going to report back to the Ice Queen.”
