Norah Pax stared at the door. It was fairly nondescript as doors went, but what was on the other side frankly terrified her. She paced the alley, five strides north and then five strides south, back and forth ten times until she was in front of the entrance again. She was relieved that there wasn’t a window to see her strange behavior.
Just as she had that thought, the door to the neighboring business—a café—opened, and a man with a full garbage bag stepped into the alley. Giving her a curious but friendly look, he started to raise his free hand. The thought of having to make conversation with this stranger terrified her even more than what was behind the door. Ducking her head and pretending she didn’t see the guy, she yanked open the door in front of her and stepped inside.
It was…quieter than she’d expected. No rock music blared, and no muscle-bound men tossed their weights noisily back on racks. There were only mats and a ring and equipment neatly stacked against the far wall. It even smelled nice, not like the mix of body odor and vinyl that most gyms had.
Only one person was there—a very large, muscular person—and he was staring right at her, scowling.
“What do you want?” he barked.
She didn’t mind the directness. It was comforting, really, that he didn’t hide his purpose in politeness. “I need to learn to fight.”
“Why?”
“So I won’t be useless next time someone tries to murder my sisters.”
His glower didn’t lighten as he studied her with eyes as dark as night. “Come in then,” he finally snapped, and Norah started to smile.
This might just work out after all.