Acknowledging his challenge with a slow, deliberate nod, I let the silence hang heavy between us for a moment. “I can make that happen.”
Without another word, I close the distance between us. My fist connects with his diaphragm in a sudden, forceful impact, designed to incapacitate.
Eric’s eyes widen in shock, the air whooshing out of his lungs in an involuntary gasp. He staggers back and clutches at his abdomen as he struggles to draw breath. The surprise in his eyes is quickly replaced with rage.
With a sudden burst of energy, he lunges towards me. His shoulder slams into my chest, a clear attempt to catch me off guard and push me back. I counter his advance, grabbing his shoulders and using his momentum to spin him away from me. Eric whirls around, fists clenched, ready to draw blood.
“If you keep this up, I’m going to kick your ass,” I say. “We both know it. Your coordination is fucked by the drugs.”
Eric throws a punch, a clumsy swing that’s easily dodged. He’s one of the best fighters out of all the recruits, but the drugs have slowed his reflexes, and his movements lack coordination. The only thing he has going for him is the stimulant to his central nervous system decreasing his perception of pain.
I deliver a solid kick to his midsection, sending him reeling backwards. Eric recovers his balance and lunges at me again, his eyes wild with fury.
We dance like this for several minutes, trading blows. The sounds of our struggle echo in the room, the rhythmic thuds of flesh against flesh punctuated by the occasional grunt.
Finally, I land a solid blow to the side of Eric’s head, dazing him. I seize the opportunity and throw him against the wall, pinning him in place with my forearm against his throat.
“Now, for the last fucking time, I’m going to ask: was the girl a part of a summons?”
Eric’s eyes are glazed, the effects of the drug-induced rage slowly fading. “No,” he croaks.
“Then why did you try to kill her?”
“I—”
Before he can finish the sentence, I slam him against the wall, my patience waning. “Listen, motherfucker, you’re going to tell me the truth, or I’ll kill you. Right here, right now. Fuck the Order.”
His eyes widen in alarm, his gaze clearing for the first time since the altercation started. “Okay, okay. Just calm the fuck down. I did it to see what you would do.”
I frown. “You were going to kill her to see how I’d react?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Eric stares at me, the confusion on his face matching my own. “To see if she’s important to you.”
“She’s not,” I lie. “No one is.”
He laughs. It’s unhinged, and not all of it can be blamed on the narcotic in his system. “Then why the fuck did you come here tonight, threatening to torture me for information? Why are you willing to risk the wrath of the Order, the same organization you’re pledged to serve, if the girl means nothing to you?”
My jaw tightens. “Because we don’t shit where we eat. That girl is a student here, so if she’s a threat to the Order, I want to know.”
“Bullshit. There’s something else. You want her.”
“I’m not breaking my vow to the Order for a fucking piece of ass.”
I shove off of him. He loses his footing and laughs again, the sound mocking. “You can lie to yourself all you want, Donovan.”
“I don’t give a fuck what you think.”
“No, but you do care what the council has to say.”
I pause at the threshold. “Watch your back, Gage. What happens during the Trials can be... accidental.”
Chapter 21
DELILAH
