Page 37 of Vampire so Virtuous
Joon grunted, staggering back a few steps.
“Shit, sorry.” Cally lowered her foot. “I kinda expected you to block that.”
He waved her off with one hand, the other pressed to his ribs as he struggled to find his breath. “My fault for suggesting we spar without pads,” he said between pained gasps. Then added pointedly, “And for thinking you had more control.”
“Sorry,” Cally mumbled again. He was right; her control had been shocking this week—and last week too, for that matter. Too many things on her mind, too distracted. She hadn’t pulled her blow as much as she should, and she was totally in the wrong. “I shouldn’t be taking my issues out on you. I’m really sorry.”
Joon nodded, accepting her apology. “Let’s call it a day on the sparring and grab a coffee. You and me are having a chat.” He straightened stiffly, still favoring his side.
She performedkyungye, feeling like an errant schoolgirl summoned to the principal’s office. “Yes,Sabomnin.”
Joon had rudimentary coffee-making facilities tucked into a corner: a battered kettle perched on an aged-brown countertop, mugs of dubious cleanliness stacked haphazardly beside it. Moving stiffly, he set about making the drinks while Cally stripped off her hand guards and took a seat at the lone small table, its surface scuffed from years of use. Two ancient Taekwondo magazines propped up one of its legs, keeping it from wobbling. She watched him, the room’s familiar sparseness grounding her in the present, even as her thoughts churned.
“I’m really sorry,” she repeated, softer now, as she shifted in her seat. The last thing she wanted was for him to think she was a mess.
“Forget it,” he said, setting a steaming mug in front of her before swinging a chair around and straddling it. “It’s not like I can’t take a hit. But you hit a lot harder than I expected. My own fault for going soft on you, because you’re two dans lower and, well—” He hesitated, lookingsomewhat sheepish.
“—A girl?” she finished wryly, fiddling with the cup.
“My turn to say ‘sorry.’ Still, like I said, it’s my own fault. You’re faster than I sometimes give you credit for, and once in a while you pull some unpredictable move.” He gave a mock-wince. “I’m half in pain and half your smug coach.” He levelled a serious look at her. “Sometimes I genuinely can’t believe how hard you hit. And I swear you’ve gotten stronger these past couple of weeks.”
Cally frowned. “Funny you should say that. I have been feeling more energized.” She raised her mug. “Did you change your coffee brand?”
“You’d know. You drink enough of it,” Joon said. “But let’s dig into that a bit more, Cally. Exactly why have you been here”—he stopped to think—“eight times in the last two weeks?”
She glanced down at her coffee. “Uh, finished a project at work. Nothing much to do.”
“Yeah? Bullshit. Try again.”
She’d known he wouldn’t buy it. “Because I’m scared, okay?” She looked up, rolling her eyes at herself. “I’m fucking terrified. Every night I wake up drenched in sweat. Every night I have the same nightmare. Helplessness, death, monsters. Stuff children dream of, for God’s sake!”And apparently, I’m a witch. Maybe. And that emanating presence. Do I even know what’s real anymore?
“Huh.” He took a sip of his coffee, unbothered by her outburst. “This new? You’ve never seemed scared to me, and I’ve never heard you mention this before.”
“Yeah, it’s new,” she said. “Something…happened, about two weeks ago. I still don’t really know what.”
He made a ‘go on’ gesture.
Cally hesitated, but she’d already said too much. Besides, she trusted Joon. Maybe shewantedto tell him—the alley, anyway. Not the spell. Not being… a witch. “I was walking home at night and, well, I kinda fainted, I guess. Except it wasn’t. I felt fuzzy and lightheaded, and… and at the same time, I felt good. Like I suppose it might feel to be high.”
“You don’t do drugs, do you?” he asked mildly, more curious than judgmental.
“You know I don’t.”
“Yeah, I know. Just checking. Carry on.”
“So I made my way back home, still feeling weird. Like I was half out of it. Nauseous, too. I figured I’d been overdoing it, so I went to bed.” Shepaused, taking a sip of her coffee, then pushed the mug away. “I’ve had nightmares ever since. Every time I sleep. Worse, the first week. Two, maybe three a night.”
“What are they about?”
Cally squirmed in her chair, looking down at the table. “Oh, you know. Impressions of helplessness, dark places and dark figures, an overwhelming sense of dread.”And an overwhelming sense of arousal, which goes with me to my grave.“I kept thinking…”Shadows. So many shadows.
“Go on.”
Cally shifted, her fingers absently tracing the rim of her cup. “I kept thinking I’d almost seen someone in that alleyway, but I don’t remember anyone being there. I wouldn’t have entered if there were. There was a large man”—she waved a dismissive hand—“but he was way ahead of me and was gone. I thought maybe I’d seen someone else, but—” She scoffed. “I don’t know. I guess I’m seeing things, too.”
“Talked with anyone about it?”
“I’m talking with you,” she said quietly.
