“Good,” Everard said. “Again. Deep breath.”
His voice was reassuring and steady, but he still looked terrifying, as if one man were talking and a different man had his hand on my neck.
“Good. You’re looking for calm. Calm and cold.”
I breathed. The electric prickling on my skin faded slowly.
“Got it?” he asked.
I swallowed and felt my throat tense against his hold. I nodded. Talking was beyond me right this second.
“Don’t raise your arm. Don’t look at the knife. Keep looking at me.”
I stared into his green eyes.
He pulled me toward him. “Stab.”
I jammed the dagger in its sheath at his body.
“Lower.”
I jabbed again.
“That’s the spot. Most men will be taller than you. Jab here and you will hit the femoral artery. If you do it right, they will bleed out before they can do any real damage. I’m still holding you. Keep stabbing.”
I jammed the sheath into him again.
“Where is the woman who smashed the Butcher to a pulp?”
That mix of rage and panic that had driven me into a frenzy inside the Butcher’s lair bubbled up. I stabbed him four times in a single breath, fast and hard.
“Just like that.” He released his hold on my neck and took a few steps back.
The air rushed out of me. I tasted metal in my mouth.
“If you can’t get away, look them straight in the eye as they’re coming. Men who hunt women want to see the fear in their eyes. A professional paid to grab you off the street will also look at your face to make sure they have the right target.”
The handle of my knife was sweaty. I wiped it on my skirt.
“You’re going to look straight at them, so they hold your gaze, and when they put their hands on you, you’re going to stab. Clover will add padded pockets to your dresses so you can carry your blade without a sheath. Don’t bother taking the dagger out. Stab right through the dress.”
I nodded.
“Here I come,” he warned.
He started toward me again. I forced myself to stand still.
Everard grabbed me by my shoulder and yanked me to him. I stabbed his thigh three times, and he let go.
“Good,” he said.
It felt like I had run a sprint.
“Let’s do it again. This time, thrust, and drag the knife to the left, giving it a twist as you pull it out. Just a slight turn will do.”
Will came out the door carrying a ham.
“That’s for you,” Everard said. “To practice.”
