Page 75 of A Dose of Agony
I twist, breaking the pattern and slam the back of my elbow into his chest. He grunts, but the hit itself wouldn’t have done anything. It’s his shift away from the second swing that does him in because I’ve placed my foot right behind him.
His eyes flare as he loses balance. I give a small push to his chest, and over he goes.
Jarron’s back slams to the ground. He lays there, staring in shock up at the domed ceiling of the arena.
I pant, kneeling next to him, one hand still on his chest. I don’t intend to embarrass myself trying to wrestle him now that he’s down. But it does feel good to know I was able to get in one good hit. If it were a real fight, with a being I wouldn’t mind fatally harming, I’d have had an admittedly short opportunity to grab my dagger and shove it into his heart.
Of course, it took me six tries just to get into this position, with a demon not actively trying to hurt me but still. A win is a win.
In the next blink, though, I’m on my back, a very heavy male body pressed on top of me. His eyes are pitch black, full horns growing through his hair.
The class gasps, followed by panicked shouts.
“My bright one is impressive,” he purrs down at me.
I swallow, suddenly very aware of my vulnerability in this situation. And every place his body touches mine.
“Jarron,” a tense voice calls. “It’s time to let her up now.”
Coach is watching from the edge of the map, fear in her eyes.
Jarron wrinkles his nose. “I would not harm her,” he says, voice echoey and filled with power. Even without magic, somehow it pulses through him, a low hum that doesn’t disappear with the magic blockers. Maybe they aren’t strong enough to fully block his power. “This was a fun dance,” he tells me. And then rises to his feet and holds out his hand to help me up too.
I work to catch my breath while Jarron raises his palms to coach, his body slowly losing its demon-y flare.
“I think that’s enough for today,” she tells us, her breath short.
I chuckle but accept that one spar is enough. I spend the rest of the period stretching and doing a few punching exercises with Jarron while we absently watch the other students fight.
“You’re good at this,” he tells me after a while. “I didn’t know this was another talent of yours.”
I roll my eyes. “My parents had us in combat classes at an early age. I might be decent by human standards, but there’s a lot to make up for against magical beings.”
“I suppose I understand how you won that fight against multiple Elite wolves now. Potionsanda talent in combat.”
“I wouldn’t call it talent.”
“Well, I would.”
I leave combat class feeling drained and hyped at the same time, hand in hand with Jarron. It felt really good to get some of my excess energy out, and that one small beat on Jarron helped raise my confidence.
The cool, fresh Idaho air feels fantastic on my lungs, and I suck it in greedily. I’ve spent so much of the last few weeks indoors. I have access to the balcony, where I can breathe in the open air, but I rarely use it without Jarron around.
He was right; it’s amazing how normal things can feel even while the rest of my life is on the brink of imploding.
34
Define Enemy
After classes are through for the day, Jarron comes to my workshop with me. He stares up at the ceiling for a few moments then strides to the end of the room, fingers sliding over the countertops. Then, he continues his march around to the other side of the room.
He turns on the fire and watches it light and flicker for a few seconds.
“What?” I ask him finally, watching his methodical examination of the room.
“Just checking it out,” he says.
I put my hands on my hips. “And?”
