Page 84 of Huntress

She scowled, and he kicked the dagger back to her, giving her space to start again. Elsie snatched it up and came at him harder. She mixed feints and low kicks into her combination, but it was nothing he hadn’t already observed in her other fights. She wasn’t being creative enough.

On her next lunge, he caught her arm, spun her around, and disarmed her again with humiliating ease. The wooden dagger flew several feet away. His arm held her in place, her back pinned against his chest.

“Kick his ass, Elsie!” someone shouted from the group of hunters gathered around them. She spotted Marley and Trenton, their expressions thunderous.

“What are you afraid of? Fight me,” he urged into her ear, releasing her and pushing her away.

She whirled around, seething anger rippling to the surface. Forgetting her dagger, she charged after him, teeth bared. She threw a punch at his face, and he caught it in the palm of his hand. He reached for her wrist, but she twisted, jabbing at him with her elbow. She threw everything she knew at him, switching to blows with her elbows and knees, and putting more than weight behind them. A touch of magic seeped into her attack.

A slow smile lifted the corners of his mouth. He matched Elsie’s energy, moving slightly faster, pushing her beyond her imagined limits. Most of his moves were defensive, only striking back to demonstrate where her gaps were and where she needed to tighten her own defense.

He teased and played with her, staying a hair above her level until she rose to his demand for more. She came in low and fast, and he swept her legs out from under her. Elsie hit the ground hard, knocking the wind out of her. She looked up at him in shock, and he crouched down next to her, hand under his chin.

“You’re the best they’ve got? No wonder they had to use dirty tricks to–” His mouth tightened, and he looked away. “You’ve got potential, but you can do better.”

“Again.” She got to her feet.

Elsie fought him until her muscles ached and her knuckles bled. He taught her through example, expecting her to catch on without ever saying a word. They skipped right past lunch, and eventually the crowd thinned to nothing. Her squad was the only one on leave, and even they’d grown tired of watching her get beaten over and over again. There were bruises all over her body, and she hadn’t managed to land a single solid blow.

“That’s enough for today.” Saint wiped the sweat from his brow.

“No, go again.”

“Rest. You’re slowing down and making mistakes. You’ll unlearn everything I’ve taught you. Stamina comes after I’ve hammered better habits into you.” He retrieved her dagger from where it had fallen hours earlier and handed it to her, holding her gaze when she took it. She scowled, but gave in.

They grabbed their dinner and took it back to her room to avoid talking to anyone. Elsie devoured the bland, dry attempt at spaghetti and tossed the paper box into the trash. She eyed the fabric, then grabbed the measuring tape off her desk. She’d put it off for long enough.

Saint was still eating. He picked at his food with a disgusted expression, but at least he wasn’t starving himself anymore. He’d get used to it, eventually.

“Can I take your measurements?”

He glanced up and nodded, shoving the last few bites into his mouth and washing it down with water. He got up and stood awkwardly in the center of the room. Elsie wrapped the tape around his wrist, wrote down the measurement, then moved to his biceps.

“How do you move like that?” she asked, pinning the end of the tape at the center of the back of his neck with a finger, using it to line his shoulder and follow the length of his arm down to his wrist. She scratched the numbers down.

“Nobody’s ever told me I couldn’t.”

Elsie snickered, wrapping it around his throat, one finger between his skin and the tape. “Give me a real answer.”

She measured his shoulders, thinking he was going to ignore her, but he finally answered. “It’s how I was taught, by people who were older, wiser, and far stronger than me. You’ve reached the pinnacle of what your people can offer. You can’t continue improving if everyone you practice with is beneath you. All that’s done is make you cocky, complacent, and lazy.”

“Lazy?” She walked around to face him. “That’s rude.”

She stepped in close, practically hugging him to get the tape around his waist, holding her breath the whole time. Checking the number, she froze. His hand came up to her face, but he paused short of pushing a few strands of hair out of her eyes. His gaze lingered on her lips for a moment, then he snatched his hand back and looked away.

“You can hit me, but you won’t touch me,” she muttered, then nodded her approval. “Good. That’s how it should be.”

He took a step back, but she followed, staying right with him. “Hold still. I don’t want to have to do this again later.”

She finished his measurements quickly, ignoring the heat in her face and the pounding in her chest. She hated the pull on her heart that secretly relished the opportunity to get close to him. It tore at her conscience that she wanted to get even closer. She turned away, but he grabbed her wrist.

“You’ll let go if you know what’s good for you,” she said quietly.

He tugged her closer, holding her fist to his chest, right over the spot that damned bond was anchored. “Are we not going to talk about this?”

She tried to yank her hand away, but he held her tight, pressing harder until she flattened her fist, her palm against his chest. “No, we are not going to talk about it! This is what’s going to get us killed. If they find out–”

“They don’t have to find out anything. I don’t touch you because you told me not to,” he interrupted. He lifted her hand to his cheek, pressing his nose to the vital point on her wrist and breathing in her scent. “I can start if you want me to.”