Arms outstretched, the merciless horde rushed me all at once.
Kicking and punching, I took them down one by one until the last opponent towered over me.
Brand.
He lunged and I grabbed his forearms. I pulled myself up and braced my feet against his chest. I pushed him backward as I let go of his arms. Brand hit the floor and then I was on him. I sent my elbow into his sternum and heard a satisfying little crack when his xiphoid process broke. I jumped back up and out of his reach. I raised my arms in anticipation of blocking his next attack. My boyfriend was far from dead. He’d been practicing for the day he could surprise me with a new move. Today was not that day if I could help it.
Bodies littered the dojo floor – my students lay all around me with their mouths open, moaning. Brand groaned out a single word.
“Watermelon.”
The moans turned to laughter.
“Is that y’all’s safe word?”
“Told you, ladies.” Brand got to his feet. “Kelly’s an unstoppable force.”
“We know that, dumbass.” Monique said as I pulled her up from one of the thick mats lining the floor. “But it sure was fun to test her.”
“Speak for yourself.” A brand new student lay on her back while she caught her breath. “I don’t see how this is supposed to help us learn to defend ourselves.”
“You gotta learn to fall without hurting yourself.” Monique offered the woman her hand and got her to her feet.
“I’d rather learn how not to fall at all.” She brushed herself off and headed for the bleachers where she’d left her purse. My other students gathered their things while I asked if everyone was all right. I’d gone easy on my students when they attacked, pulling punches and moving slow. Not that an attacker would show mercy, but it doesn’t pay to maim your customers.
Speaking of maiming, that reminded me… “Everyone! Bring your metal combs next time.”
“Oh boy, improv weapons time!” Monique pumped her fist in the air.
Brand high-fived her as she walked past him. “You okay, big guy? Kelly really whumped you. I thought I heard something crack.”
Brand stretched and grinned at me, his sternum long since healed. “That was just the sound of my pride.”
Monique knew there was more to the world than meets the eye. Her aunt was one of Denver’s topmost magical healers. But she didn’t accept the ways of magic, so Brand and I stayed off her radar. The only student who knew about our magically-engineered strength and healing abilities was Jessica, my receptionist and right-hand woman.
“I’ll be back at eight, pretty lady.” Brand kissed my cheek on his way to the door.
“Hey! You aren’t going to stay and help pick up?”
He pretended not to hear me as he stepped out the door onto Colfax.
I rolled my eyes and went for the broom I kept behind the front desk. I overheard my newest student tell another that she probably wouldn’t be back, that the class was way too hard. She slung her purse over her shoulder and walked out. I considered chasing her down, but what good would it do? She’d made her decision. I heard it in her voice. I just hoped I wouldn’t recognize her face on a crime news feed anytime soon.
“Kelly, no offense, but sometimes you forget that we’re beginners.” Jessica sat behind the desk, watching me. She’d obviously heard the woman speak, too.
“You’ve been with me for two years.” I thought about the way Jessica had fought for her life against supernatural opponents just a couple months before, opponents who could have easily killed bigger men than her. And did. “You’re not a beginner.”
“Yeah, but, that’s nothing compared to your experience, am I right?”
I leaned on the broom. “True. So what are you saying?”
“I’m saying it’s sometimes intimidating for a new woman to come in here and see you going at it with Brand right off the bat. You need to soften the approach.”
“I’m not softening anything. This is serious. An attacker isn’t going to soften—”
“No, no, you don’t get it. Here.” Jessica picked up a stack of papers from the desk. “I’ve come up with a welcome package. There’s an introduction to what you do here at the dojo, a printed course curriculum and a list of YouTube videos to watch, with a link to your website.”
I almost dropped my broom. “I have a website?”
Jessica blushed. “Oh. Yeah. I, um, built you one. Surprise!”
I took the stack from her and thumbed through it. It was thorough, with a glossary, suggested reading, and illustrations of basic exercises. “So how do I know they’re even going to read this?”
“Because they’ll read it right in the dojo, at the first class.”
“That’s it? No demo, no sparring, just…reading?”
“Yup.” Jessica looked proud of herself. Which is why I hated saying what I said next.
“This’ll bore them right out of the dojo.”
Instead of crumpling up, Jessica grinned as she bit her lower lip. “Not if you let me teach the class.”
I studied her for a moment, then lowered my voice. “You can’t tell them about the Kin. About what happened to you underground.”
She waved me off. “I know. I’m not dumb. But, I can tell them how it feels to save your own life. I can give the overall details. I can weave my story through the basics. Please, Kelly, let me do this. I promise your students will improve right off the bat. They’ll feel more empowered when they see someone like me can save herself.”
I sighed. The last time I’d let someone else lead my classes, she’d tried to kill an old friend of mine.
“It’s not how I do things.”
“I know, but.” Jessica exhaled in a huff. “Look, nobody has to be convinced a tank can storm its way through a battlefield. You’re a tank, Kel. I’m more like a…military Jeep. Nobody suspects the Jeep.”
I grinned, just a little. Jessica earned my trust a hundred times over every day. “Add in some basic anatomy to the introduction. We’ll see how it goes.”
“Yes!” She jumped up, but knew better than to hug me. “You won’t be disappointed.”
“Of course I won’t be. But like I said, we’ll see how it goes.”
“That’s all I ever ask for. A chance.” Jessica sat back down and started typing on the computer, presumably looking up sites about anatomy. I started back into the dojo with the broom.
A chance. That’s all any of us wanted. That’s why women came to the dojo, to stand a chance against an attacker who would have them outweighed and outmaneuvered. Unless they did something. Unless they prepared. I had faith that Jessica could do a great introduction. She knew how ordinary people worked inside. That was something I was still working on. Jessica didn’t know it, but as I taught her, I was also learning from her.
Or maybe she did know. She was Jessica, after all.
“I’ll phone Lydia,” she called after me.
“Who?” I turned around in time to see Jessica shake her head.
“Lydia. The woman who just walked out. I’ll see if I can talk her into coming back. Tell her that there’s a special beginner’s introduction. Something less intimidating. Something free.”
“Make sure you let her know you’re the one giving the class, not me.”
Jessica just smiled and picked up the phone. I had no doubt we’d be seeing Lydia again.
In the meantime, I had to get ready for a date.
***
My apartment was right above the dojo, so I didn’t have far to go to get ready. I had extra time to stand under a hot shower and rinse off the day. The water cascaded over my body, plastering my hair across my back. I could have stayed there all night, but Brand was eager to go out. He wanted to take me dancing, which sounded so painfully romantic I wanted to gag, until Brand told me it was a punk rave and that I should be ready to body slam.
Which made the thought of going dancing tolerable again.
I turned off the water. I grabbed a towel from the rack and dried off in the shower where the wet heat steamed my skin. Brand and I usually finished a class by doing a demo – different scenarios women might find themselves in and how to get out of them. This time, Brand had suggested the ‘dogpile on Kelly’ at the end of class. More like bellowed it. And my feral little wolf pack happily obliged him. They actually trusted Brand, even liked him. That was a big step for some of my students, and for me.
Brand and I had been dating only a few months, almost since the day we tried to kill each other and found we couldn’t. Something tells me the Hallmark Channel won’t be calling for our love story anytime soon, but hey, it worked for us.
It worked enough that I’d hired him to help out at the dojo. And given him the key to my apartment. I shook my head. Getting this close to someone was unthinkable for me a year ago. But Brand had seen me at my worst, at my weakest, and still respected me. A man like that’s worth keeping, despite his other failings.
From the bedroom, I heard the front door open. I looked at the clock. Seven-thirty. My guy was eager, all right. The TV went on and the fridge opened and closed. Brand made himself at home while I got dressed. I wouldn’t let him see me until I was good and ready, anticipation being the best aphrodisiac.
Dressed, I walked out of the bedroom to the living room. Brand turned around and looked me over. He smiled as he walked toward me.
“I meet with your approval?”
He made a sort of low growl in his throat and ran his hands up and down my arms. “Show me.”
“Show you?” I felt my lips curve into a smile. “Show you what?”
“You know what I want to see.” That familiar wicked grin appeared.
“We don’t have time.”
Brand laughed. “Nobody goes to a rave on time. Getting there on time means you don’t have anyone to fool around with to make you late.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“I don’t care. So show me.” Then he did that thing I love to my neck.
“Okay. But I’m making it quick.”
Brand’s face lit up. “You really want to get there, don’t you?”
“What I really want is to get this night over with.” I did that thing he loves to his ear. “And get you back here.”
“Thanks for humoring me.” He looked me up and down again. “Let’s start with the shoes.”
So starting with my stilettos and working my way up, I showed him fifteen places where I’d stashed weapons.
“And I’m weapon number sixteen, of course.”
“God damn, you are sexy.”
Of course I didn’t show him where I’d hidden weapon number seventeen. A woman has to have her secrets.
“Okay.” I kissed Brand. “Now that I’ve shown you mine, time for you to show me yours.”
We arrived fashionably late.