Nicole turns to me. “We’ve been training with him for months. And no offense, but you look like they have to measure you before they let you go on the Ferris wheel.”
I almost laugh. Now, I’ve heard a lot of short jokes, and usually they annoy me, but that one was pretty good. Not overtly offensive or derogatory. I rock back on my heels, considering her—maybe I was wrong about her. Maybe shedoeshave a sense of humor; it’s just frozen underneath that cold demeanor.
All right, Ice Queen. Imma melt you yet. Watch me.
Dimitri nods. “Nicole is right. You are very small, Madison. Often, the men we must face are large and well trained. Not all techniques will work, so we study a wide range to combine the most effective.”
Small? I mean, Ifeelsmall around these people, but I’m short and wide, and usually the world doesn’t let me forget the second part. “By that logic, pretty much everyone is bigger than me,” I offer with a shrug. “If I say I’m not a beginner, don’t you think that means I know how to accommodate a taller opponent?”
Dimitri crosses his arms as Eleanor and Nicole exchange a look, and, once again, I’m under the microscope, very much an outsider in a group that isn’t actively trying to make me feel that way. But it creeps in every once in a while like this—a shared look that implies history and has a meaning that I’m not in on.
I square my shoulders. I was expecting to have to prove myself, but I was kind of hoping I could do it by showing everyone a few quality of life tricks on their computers, like browser add-ons for internet shopping or widgets that create schedules and digital calendars. Dimitri seems like the kind of guy who likes schedules and lists.
Guess I’m going to have to do it this way.
“Fight me,” I challenge.
Dimitri cracks a smile. Well, not a smile—more of a half-step above a grimace. “That will not end well for you.”
“I might surprise you,” I argue.
“It’s hard for him to hold back,” Nicole intervenes, and I can’t help but wonder if she’s trying to protect me or if it’s a humble-brag about her man’s skills. I’ll be generous and assume a little of both.
I glance at her, then go back to sizing up the big guy. “He doesn’t have to.”
He drops his arms from their crossed position, shaking his head, and I know what he’s going to say before he does. So I don’t let him. I close the distance, catching him off guard, and bring my elbow out around my body with as much force as I can. I’m not trying to hurt him too badly, so I clip him in the stomach instead of the groin.
He makes anoofand there’s a surprised gasp behind me.
“If I could reach and put force behind it, I’d have thrust the heel of my hand into his nose. Instead, my strike zone is solar plexus, groin, knee, instep,” I explain to the peanut gallery, pointing to each area as I say them.
His brows go up an instant before he lunges for me, darting to the side. I dance away, staying on the balls of my feet, never giving him my back. That’s the biggest mistake someone my size can make—the only reason that assassin in the alley got the drop on me was because he snuck up from behind.
There’s a spark in his eyes as he realizes what I’m doing. Another almost-smile. “Yes, good, Madison. You see how she keeps me in front of her? If I am able to grab her from behind, that is the end of the lights for her.”
“Endgame,” Eleanor corrects at the same time Nicole says, “Lights out.”
“That is what I said,” he dismisses.
Lightning quick—quicker than anyone his size has any right to be—he snakes out and grabs my wrist. I have a flare of panic, but my training kicks in.
I throw my elbow again, hitting him in the solar plexus this time, hard enough to make him double over. He reaches for me as he gasps for air, but now I can get both arms around his neck since he’s so much closer to my level. I jerk his head back, twisting, pulling with all my might so he follows the spin. Once he’s off balance, I release and step back as he falls hard on his back.
Someone claps—Eleanor, I’m guessing—and I almost laugh. I lean over and brace myself on my knees to catch my breath as Dimitri rolls into a sitting position.
“Good,” he puffs, clearly stunned to have had the breath knocked out of him. “Then what would you—”
I mime kicking him in the groin, stopping just short of making contact, but close enough that he flinches and Nicole makes a nervous noise of protest. I toss her a look, frowning. “I wasn’t really going to kick him in the balls, Nicole,” I say.
She has the grace to look sheepish. “Of course not.”
Dimitri waves off my offer to help him up, getting to his feet gracefully. “Where did you train? You have combined the moves from judo and taekwondo and boxing—”
“I have friends in low places,” I say evasively. “There… may be an underground MMA somewhere in Ulysses, and I might know the guys in charge.”
“You know of an underground fighting ring?”
I purse my lips. “I can neither confirm nor deny its existence.”
