“...Miss Chandler?”
“I’m sorry-” I look up from the knife, blinking, “what?”
That smug bastard’s face is nothing but polite inquiry, but I know he’s smothering a grin.
“As I said, why don’t we demonstrate a few basic feints?”
I can feel the blood drain from my face. Knifeplay? Withhim?
Without bothering to wait for my answer, he hands me the knife again and turns to the class. “In reality, knife fights are ugly; endless feinting until one opponent gets an opening. The best knife fight is a short knife fight.”
There’s respectful laughter from the group, punctuated by some shrill giggles from Cormac’s fangirls. My palms are humiliatingly wet and I have to wipe them on my leggings.
“Let’s begin with some moves to disarm someone coming at you,” he continues, taking a stance. “Miss Chandler, attempt to attack me.”
My eyes narrow at the word “attempt” and I take a firmer grip on the knife, moving toward him slowly.
“First step,” he calls over his shoulder, “create distance between you.” His feet move with mine, it’s almost a ballet between us and it feels so natural. I’m on the balls of my feet, attuned to his every movement.
“Keep your body perpendicular to the attacker,” he continues, “a frontal stance makes you more vulnerable. Miss Chandler, feint at me.”
My wide, terrified gaze seems to amuse him. “This is a real knife, Professor.”
He holds his hand up and waves me on with his fingers with thatsmirk,that arrogant stupid smirk of his and I do, leaning in on my left leg and slashing low.
“Deflect your attacker’s arm as they strike,” he continues casually as if he’s discussing the weather. “Watch the trajectory of their arm and use both hands to grab their forearm first if possible. Use their momentum to pull them past you-”
The second I feel the heat of his hands on me, I stop thinking, using his planted feet against him, and with his hands out of the way, I can grab his shoulder and pull him in a flip across my back and onto the mat with a thump.
The room is dead silent. Even the fangirls aren’t giggling.
Cormac’s jade eyes flare and oh, this is not the time to be turned on by him but I am. So much. He’s looking me over slowly as if he’s never seen me before and I can feel every place his gaze lands on me. I’ve never had such a visceral response to a man, not ever.
“Excellent work!” He’s all smiles, up on his feet and looking pleased with me. “Miss Chandler makes a good point here. I was distracted by my verbal instruction. For you, it could be the sounds of traffic or footsteps. It could be shouting or screaming. Never let yourself be distracted when you’re engaged. Never expect someone to step in and save you.”
“Take it. Take it, Mala. Hurry. I don’t want you to see this part.”
My hand shakes and I’m back in the car, upside down, dangling from my seatbelt…
“Miss Chandler, are you all right?”
Cormac is right in front of me, his heated eyes have cooled into concern.
“I’m fine,” I manage, clearing my throat and trying to sound like a sane human. “I’m just fine. Anything else, professor?”
“Can you continue?” He’s still looking at me oddly.
Nodding firmly, I step back, taking my stance again.
“Good,” he murmurs, there’s a low tone of respect there and it warms me. “Class, we’ll show you the places to hit as hard as and fast you can. Remember, the best knife fight is…”
“A short one!” Everyone choruses together.
Good lord,I think,the man started the Cult of Cormac.
“Easy one!” he calls, pulling a knife off the rack. “The jugular.” He’s swept the blade across my skin close enough that I can feel the slight breeze before I can even react.
Sucking in a furious breath, I shout, “Femoral artery!” My knife makes a speedy downward move to his thigh, closer to his groin than I’d planned to.
