“That’s what you’re wearing to learn to fight?” The husky voice announced Cadan’s entry to the arsenal that he called a gym.
Bracing herself to turn around to face him, Diana stared blindly at the honey-colored wood of the walls that would have been inviting if they hadn’t been a backdrop for gleaming weapons of copper, iron, and steel. Wicked and threatening, even in this lovely room.
But then, they were what she’d come here to learn about now that the late lunch she’d shared with Cadan was finished. Finished, but not before she’d confirmed that she was actually starting to like him, despite his shiftiness about her past.
Now she was here, wearing too-tight yoga pants and a tank top—both had seemed like a good idea when she’d pulled them out of her bag. Due to the fact that planets could orbit around her butt, she didn’t normally wear things like this outside of gardening in her very private yard. But she didn’t have much else in her bag because of her hasty packing. And it hadn’t seemed like the worst idea, considering that she liked him. But now that she was here, and she had to turn and face him…. Well, it didn’t seem so clever anymore.
To buy time, she pointed to the wall hung with weapons made of brightly colored metals or stone and without turning around, asked, “What are those?”
His footsteps sounded behind her as he approached. “They’re weapons that I’ve collected from other Mytheans over the years. They doona mean too much to mortals.”
Her gaze passed over the crosses, pendants, talismans, and other less identifiable items that hung below the weapons on copper hangers, and landed on fine leather straps looped over another copper spike. “And those?”
“Maoin straps. They’re like magical handcuffs. They’re enchanted to negate the strength of whoever is bound.”
“Interesting.” Knowing that she was past a reasonable amount of delay, she turned to face him.
He coughed, rubbed a hand across his mouth.
“It’s all I had,” she said, surprised and gratified at his response and the heat in his eyes as they swept up and down her form.
It had still been a stupid idea, but at least she didn’t feel like an idiot, especially considering how flawless he looked. She couldn’t decide if she wanted to look more at the breadth of his chest or at the hint of stubble shadowing his strong chin.
“Well—” His gaze shifted around the room like he wanted it to land anywhere but on her. But inevitably it was drawn back. “Are you ready to start?”
“Yes. After what happened out on the road, I want to know if I really do have a knack for this.”
“You were supposed to stay in the car.”
“And you need to stop being so protective. I can do this. I have to do this. There’s something within me, something new that likes violence—that’s very good at violence. I want to get used to it, to be able to control it when it does come out.”
He nodded, his expression approving.
“So, what will we start with—small weapons?” she asked.
“Hand-to-hand, then move on to weapons later, depending on how naturally proficient you are. You won’t always have a weapon when you are attacked. Better be prepared to use your fists.” He lifted her hands, and her breath caught in her lungs. “Your feet.” He tapped one of her feet with his. “And your brain.” He tapped her forehead with a finger.
She scowled, but a grin followed.
His big hand enveloped hers and a shiver raced up her arm. He drew her to the center of the mat. “Because of your size, you’re going to have to rely on speed and cleverness.”
Standing so close, she couldn’t help but notice how much taller he was than she, and broader. And that there was a faint scar right at the bridge of his nose where it had once been broken.
“I know you’ll have no trouble with cleverness, but the speed? I’m no’ so sure.”
She wasn’t either, but decided to keep her mouth shut.
“You won’t be able to do much damage through brute strength, so you’ll have to focus on doing the most damage possible with what you’ve got. Use your opponent’s body against him.”
“Or her.”
“Or her. Aim for sensitive areas—knees or groin—or if you can reach his face, go for the neck, eyes, nose, or ears.”
Her hand flashed up quickly, smacking him in the ear.
He jerked. “Damn it.”
She stifled a grin. “Sorry.”
He rubbed his ear and glowered at her, then gave her another approving nod. “Good. You used surprise. And doona apologize. You canna hurt me.”
“Not yet.”
“No’ ever,” he corrected, making her grit her teeth.
That’s what you think. She felt her competitive streak—normally reserved for academic endeavors—coming out.