"And real fights don't work that way."
"No. Real fights end when someone is dead or incapacitated. There's no tapping out. No one to save you if you make a mistake."
He attacks without warning.
I barely block the first strike, and the second one gets through my guard, slamming into my ribs hard enough that I hear something crack. The pain is sharp and immediate, but I force myself to move through it. Vampire healing will fix it.
"Don't freeze," he says, pressing the attack. "Pain is information. Use it."
I adapt, shifting my weight, protecting my injured side while using my good side to counter. He's faster than me, stronger, but I'm learning his patterns. The way he favors his right side slightly. The way he drops his shoulder before a kick.
Maximus sweeps my legs, and I hit the mat hard. For a moment, the ceiling above me isn't the training room. It's older, stone, lit by something too bright and clinical. I smell rain and old buildings and something sharp, medicinal.
Then I blink, and it's gone.
"You hesitated," Maximus says, offering me a hand up.
I take it, unsettled by whatever that was. A dream fragment? A memory? I've never been anywhere that looked like that.
For two hours, he beats the hell out of me.
Every time I think I'm getting the hang of it, he changes the parameters. Adds weapons. Changes the terrain. Forces me to fight in positions that would never happen in a controlled match.
"Underground fighting made you predictable," he says, circling me while I catch my breath. "You learned to fight one-on-one, in a defined space, for a set amount of time. Real vampire combat has none of those constraints."
He gestures to Marcellus, who's been watching from the sidelines. "Again. But this time, two opponents."
Fighting both of them at once is brutal. Every opening I exploit with one leaves me vulnerable to the other. I take hits I can't block, make tactical choices that would work against one fighter but fail against two.
But I'm learning. Adapting. Finding the rhythm of fighting outnumbered.
When Maximus finally calls a halt, I'm covered in bruises that are already fading, and exhilarated in a way I haven't felt since my last real fight.
"Better," Maximus says. "You adapt quickly. But you're still holding back."
"I'm not…"
"You are. You're fighting like you're afraid of hurting us. Of going too far." He steps closer. "We're vampires, Celeste. You can't hurt us permanently. Stop pulling your punches."
He's right. Some part of me is still calibrating force for human opponents. Still afraid of killing someone by accident.
"Tomorrow night, same time," he says. "We'll work on that mental block."
Before I can respond, Elena appears in the doorway. "Sorry to interrupt, but Celeste is supposed to shadow me tonight. Donor coordination training?"
Maximus nods. "Go. Learn how the network operates. Understanding the system is as important as protecting it."
I follow Elena out of the training room, my body aching in that good way that comes from being pushed to your limits.
"Rough session?" Elena asks sympathetically.
"He doesn't seem to believe in easing people in."
"No, he doesn't. But you'll be better for it. Everyone he trains becomes exceptionally dangerous." She leads me down a corridor I haven't explored yet. "Come on. I'll show you the real heart of this operation."
The donor coordination wing is nothing like what I expected. It's professional, almost corporate. Offices with computers, filing systems, and medical equipment for health screenings. There are three other humans working here, all of them focused on their tasks with the efficiency of people who know their jobs matter.
"This is where we manage everything," Elena explains, leading me to her office. "Donor recruitment, health screening, scheduling, payment processing. We currently have one hundred twenty active donors in rotation, with another fifteen in the vetting process."
