She’s getting frustrated. Her swipes come in quick succession.
“There it is,” I murmur. “That temper.”
I twist the blade and disarm her in a brutal flick, sending the baton skidding across the grass. I use her confusion to kick her ankles out, watching her fall on her back. The breath escapes her in a rush. Before she can stand, I press my blade to her throat, holding her in place.
The ground is deadly silent. The steel edge digs in slightly, making her eyes widen.
“What is the point of this?” she asks, frustrated. “Why are you even here?”
“You tell me?” I respond. “Is there something you wish to tell me?”
Her throat bobs.
“No.”
We stay like that for one infinite minute. My finger twitches on the handle, and I contemplate cutting out her throat for her lies. It is the least of what she deserves. She must think she is so clever, attempting to trickme,of all people.
Her green eyes lock on mine. They burn with hatred.
“Don’t you have innocent people to kill?” she snaps. “Or did you tire of your mind tricks?”
It didn’t take her long to learn about my powers.
“A rebel sympathizer,” I say. My lips curl in disgust. “Of course, you are. Just like your mother.”
I blink, and she slips out from under my blade. One minute, it is pressed to her throat, and the next, she stands above me, landing several kicks to my ribs.
How did she move so fast?
“Don’t you dare speak about her, you worthless scum,” she snarls.
I catch her ankle and yank hard until she falls on her back.
“Lesson complete,” I announce. “Everyone, leave.”
I stand up, dusting my fingers. Haven—because that isexactlywhoshe is—lies flat on her back.
“How did you get out from under me?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” she asks haughtily. “You’re slow, and I don’t just mean up here.” She taps her head.
“Funny,” I say dryly. “Answer me.”
She rises, furiously wiping the grass from her uniform. It’s horrid. Ill-fitting and a shade of brown that can only be compared to shit.
“You look ugly,” I remark.
She laughs, a dry, unamused laugh.
“That’s good,” she says. “I hardly care to tempt you of all people.”
“Because I am engaged?”
“BecauseIam married,” she says.
I fold my arms across my chest. “Oh, yeah? Who is the unlucky fellow?”
“Grayson Sullivan,” she says.
