“Things will be more primitive than usual,” Edmund said. “I’ve seen the house, though that was over sixty years ago. Old-fashioned bathrooms and only two of them. No central heating or air-conditioning. The bedrooms without windows are limited so Mithrans will be sleeping several to a room. Humans will have only three or four rooms to choose from, mostly bunk-bed-style sleeping areas, if I recall. Ancient furniture.”
Eli said, “George thinks we’ll leave for the island fastand the Duello will start in less than two days.” When Edmund said nothing, Eli asked, too casually, “Have you seen the proposed list of elimination rounds?”
Edmund didn’t answer.
“That bad?” he asked.
“Everyone wants to fight Jane. Every single one of the Europeans,” Edmund said at last. “From Titus’s sous chef to his primo.”
I heard soft clicks and snaps as Eli worked, growing more noisy than usual. Edmund’s admission had disturbed him. “Show me.”
I had seen the list. I wanted to blow off steam. I slipped into my room and changed into exercise gear: tight, Lycra-based running pants and a padded sports bra. Bare feet. I walked into the living room and pointed at Eli. “Spar. Now.” Then at Edmund. “And when I wipe the floor with him, it’ll be your turn.”
Edmund’s lips lifted faintly. “As my mistress desires.”
I didn’t even bother to fuss about the mistress comment. I turned on my toes and raced up the stairs, across the construction mess, into the bedroom with the sparring mats. And faced away from the door, toward the windows. I let my body loosen. I breathed. Let my mind stop. Relaxed until a white haze filled my brain and body, not silent, but a place, a state of mind, an existence without sight, texture, or sound. An absence of sensation.
Then I let it bleed back into me. A rubberized mat covered the wood floor. I let my soles feel the mat, the cushioned perception of weight, of gravity. I smelled the chemicals that composed the mat. Heard water come on in the showers. And I heard Eli enter the room, so silent a waking cat wouldn’t have heard him. The air moved. Smelling of Eli.
I ducked, dropped. Opened my eyes. Captured my balance on one foot and both fists. Swung the other leg out and around. Missed him.
Took a blow to my rib cage that sent me into the wall. I laughed. It sounded not quite right. I launched myself at him. Took a blow to my abdomen. Block block block. Strike strike. Blow. Block. Pain woke me up. My fiststightened. My crouch deepened a quarter inch. And I attacked.Fastfastfast. Beast chuffed through my throat.
Eli’s heel came at my throat.
Killing strike. Knowing I would dodge. Because I was faster than Eli. Always had been.
Time... stopped.
And then...
I was standing in the room, eyes closed. Back to the door. And I smelled Eli.
I dropped and rolled, shouting, “Edmund!”
He was instantly in the doorway, the little pop of sound that announced a vamp moving fast. My eyes were wide. Eli, in attack position, was staring at me. I slammed my spine to the wall and foot-crawled hard, to stand against it.
“Jane?” Eli said. “What?”
“Time did something. I already had a fight with you. And now we’re starting over. Something’s wrong.” A spike of pain lanced through my head. And I remembered time doing something weird with Leo recently. Tears welled over and fell from my eyes. Scoured down my cheeks. Though whether from what was happening or from the memories of the tortured bodies of the Stephens family at the B&B I didn’t know. My skull spiked with pain and I wanted to hurl. I put one hand to my head and one to my belly, which felt hard and tight. “Something’s very, very wrong.”
“I’ll make tea, my mistress,” Edmund said. “Eli. Come with me, please.”
Eli looked like he didn’t want to go, but he followed Edmund. They left me there, alone in the spare bedroom with the fighting mats. The stench of rubber. And a body that hurt. As if I’d been beaten.
• • •
In the kitchen Edmund was preparing a fast cuppa chai in the Bunn coffeemaker. Eli was sitting at the table. I pulled an afghan off the couch and wrapped it around me, ignoring that it smelled of Bodat and pizza. I was cold.
I watched them. They seemed fine.
I sat at my usual place. No one said anything.
Upstairs, one shower went off. I hadn’t heard it come on in this timeline.
Ed placed the mug of spiced tea in front of me. The cup was one with a saying on it.I DON’T NEED ANGER MANAGEMENT. I JUST NEED PEOPLE TO STOP PISSING ME OFF.The tea had a thick layer of frothed cream on top. My tears, which had stopped, gathered again, at the kindness. I wrapped my icy fingers around the mug and lifted it from the table. Sipped. The frothed cream made it perfect. The tea and cream were delicious and quickly helped my belly pain to ease. Ed put two Tylenol on the table and I took them without argument.
“Jane,” Edmund said, when my mug was half-empty, “tell us what happened.”
