Page 13 of A Song in the Night

I’m not sure why these words suddenly make the pit of my stomach feel heavier. Maybe I’m just realizing that learning how to fight means taking another person’s life into my hands, like when I feed. I’ve never been one for violence or physicality. Noah may have his work cut out for him with our training, but I also have to train my mind. I understand these circumstances could very easily become life and death in a matter of seconds, but the thought of having to kill someone makes my anxiety rise.

Hunting the weepers was different. They were so far from human, ending their existence was a mercy. But this… it’s different. It will require me to be someone different.

“You’re afraid,” Noah says, cutting into my downward spiral. “I can smell it.”

I blink. My thoughts begin to clear and I frown at him. “Sorry. What’s next?”

Noah steps toward me, and I have to remind myself not to retreat. I know what we’re doing, but my body still doesn’t know how to respond. “Hit me,” he says.

My eyes widen. “What?”

“You heard me, baby vampire. I need to see what your instinctual moves are before I can correct them. Put everything you have behind it.”

“Why are you automatically assuming they’ll be wrong?”

The vampire makes a sound of impatience. “I can’t imagine you were learning combat while you lived at the mansion. We don’t have all night, Charlie.”

“Okay, fine,” I grumble, shifting so my legs are shoulder-width apart. I may not be all that skilled, but I do know that a balanced fighting stance is important. Okay, I don’tknow, but I’m pretty sure it is. I close my hands into fists and striking out with my right, catching Noah in the shoulder.

He makes no effort to dodge or block, allowing me to connect. His expression doesn’t change. “You need to be lifting weights every day,” is all he says.

“Okay,” I say through my teeth. “What else?”

“Do it again.”

I repeat the action, but this time, Noah catches my fist in his hand.

“Hold it there,” he tells me, stepping forward and lifting his other hand, trailing his fingers along the underside of my arm. My skin tingles in response as I follow his movement. My muscles still shake in protest from the exertion from the dumbbells. Noah’s eyes meet mine and he says, “I’d hoped your time in the sewer sector had added some bulk, but this is still the arm of a princess. You’ll pack a stronger punch once you’ve built some muscle here.”

He gives it a squeeze, and I suck in a breath. I’m afraid that if I try to speak right now my voice will crack, so I just nod in response.

Noah drops his hand and steps back. “We’ll revisit this tomorrow. I want you down here for at least an hour every day. Ten minutes of cardio, twenty to thirty minutes of weight training, and then another ten minutes of cardio to cool down. Got it?”

No. That sounds terrible. I nod, my mouth pursing with determination. “Sure.”

Noah cracks a smile that has probably broken countless hearts. “A little gratitude would be nice.”

Annoyance flickers through me—he already mentioned that his efforts are to protect theirasset. Why should he expect me to be grateful for that? “You know what else would be nice? A day at the spa and a five-course dinner. Sometimes we don’t get what we want,” I tell him.

Noah arches a brow. “Do you want to die? Because that is a very real possibility if you don’t take this seriously.”

“Iknowthat, Noah.”

“Good.” He glances toward the stairs and adds, “I have a meeting to get to. Once you’ve showered, you can work on filing until I get back.”

With that, he walks upstairs and leaves me alone with my racing heart. I settle onto the mats again and lie back until I’m staring at the exposed ceiling. I inhale slowly and then exhale a groan.

I miss the sewer sector.

Chapter Four

It isn’t until the city turns pink, the sun rising in the east, that I finally decide to take Ada up on her offer.

There’s nothing poignant in my decision—it happens when I turn to that lumpy, scratchy couch and imagine sleeping on it again. I’ve just spent the past eight hours digitizing more of Noah and Sylvia’s files, and my eyes hurt from staring at a screen. Frankly, the bed at the boardinghouse isn’t much better, but at least there’s company and breakfast.

I send a short text to Sylvia, letting her know about my new living arrangement.That’s fine, she says back, which is the extent of the discussion. Noah had made it seem as if she would try to stop me, and though Sylvia’s response makes the tension leave my shoulders, I wonder if it means that she doesn’t care as much as Noah thought she would.

Wondering if I’ll have enough time to get to Oldbel before daybreak, I glance toward the window again.Worth the risk, I think. In a burst of motivation, I grab my backpack, sling it over my shoulder, and hurry out of the office. Every movement causes a twinge of discomfort, but it’s easy to ignore in my rush. I’m halfway down the stairs before I remember to turn back and lock the door with my key.

---