Page 26 of Shadow

“No,” I said firmly. “And if you lay a hand on him without my consent, you’ll be joining the human as her second trainer.”

Beck grunted; a sound as noncommittal as it was begrudging.

As I climbed onto my bike, a fleeting thought crossed my mind, accompanied by a grimace. I couldn’t help but wonder how badly Boot’s first day as Marinah’s trainer was going.

Chapter Eleven

Marinah

It was only a half-ball on a flat surface, but it was absolutely kicking my ass. An hour into training, I actually felt sorry for Boot. He’d been handed a losing proposition. If I didn’t have King’s guarantee that Boot wouldn’t kill me, I would have been a nervous wreck. As it was, I wobbled between frustration and humiliation. Boot, for his part, hadn’t said much beyond his usual grumbling one-word commands.

“One foot,” he barked after we hit the two-hour mark.

Wow, a whole two words. Progress. I stood near the wall, my palm glued to its smooth surface. The moment I tried to balance on my own, gravity reminded me how inept I was.

“One foot is impossible. I can’t even manage two,” I said in a whining voice I wasn’t proud of.

Predictably, I wobbled and tipped in the opposite direction, right where the wall couldn’t save me. I hit my knees with a frustrated groan. “This has to be the most hopeless job you’ve ever been given,” I muttered, scrambling to my feet.

Boot growled low in his throat, clearly unimpressed with my ability to fall.

He stepped closer, and I used his shoulder and the wall to climb back onto the ridiculous squishy half-ball. “What is thepoint of this?” I demanded, glaring at the offending piece of equipment. “We’ve been at it for two hours.”

“Four more to go.” This time, his words were less grunt-like but no less impatient.

“Oh, so you do have a vocabulary,” I quipped, my sarcasm on full display.

I released his shoulder, balancing precariously on the ball. The toe of his boot nudged the edge, and I toppled sideways. This time, I hit the ground hard, landing on my side.

“You did that on purpose,” I accused, glaring up at him.

“Grunt.” He actuallysaidthe word, with no humor in his evil eyes.

“Your eloquence astounds me,” I snapped, climbing back to my feet. I grabbed his shoulder for balance, but my fingers twitched with the urge to throttle him. Instead, I took a deep breath, released his shoulder, and pressed my other hand against the wall for support.

I managed about a minute this time, which felt like progress, albeit the kind that would have me mastering this thing by the time I was eighty. “Is this all we’re doing today? We could work on firearms instead. Maybe I’d be an ace marksman lying prone on the ground.”

It was a weak joke. I couldn’t shoot to save my life, but Boot didn’t know that.

“Ball first,” he badgered, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“Stubborn man,” I muttered under my breath, rolling my eyes.

He simply grunted again, leaving me to wonder how long it would take before I either improved or lost my mind.

“Boot,” a woman’s voice called from the doorway.

I nearly lost my balance as I turned my head to see her. She was striking, with dark hair and eyes that suggested Cuban heritage.So, some had survived.

“Dammit,” Boot growled, striding over to her. His voice lowered, but his frustration was clear. “You want to get me killed, woman?” he said harshly.

“Che is missing,” she replied. “I was hoping he came here.”

“He’s not here.” Boot glanced back at me briefly, his expression torn. Then he leaned in close to her, his voice dropping to a whisper too quiet for most to hear. Unfortunately for him, I had excellent hearing, even if my balance was questionable.

“If King finds out she’s seen you, I’m dead and so is she,” he muttered.

The woman cast a resentful glance in my direction, as if I were the problem. I guessed I wasn’t supposed to know there were Cuban survivors. Her resentment didn’t stop me from speaking.

---