Page 83 of Warrior's Captive
“I’ll take over from here,” Banujani continued, then fixed Vivian with a stare. “AndIdon’t think you’re cute.”
Vivian pursed her lips, struggling not to laugh. Tai’ri’s face struggled between sheepishness and indignation.
“She may have a point,” Vivian said. “If you’re worried about hurting me . . .”
He sighed, rubbed a hand over his face. “Fine. I’ll still work with you on your conditioning, though.”
“If there’s anything left of her once I’m through.”
Vivian’s smile faded as she looked at Banujani. Okay, so . . . now she was starting to worry. “Banujani? You don’t really mean that, do you?”
“First position, First Form,” the woman barked. “Sir, get out.”
Banujani didn’t wait until Tai’ri cleared the mat. She rushed. Vivian dropped clumsily into place, and proceeded to learn the difference between training and flirting.
* * *
Two weeks later, Vivian stared up at the ceiling and considered staying on her back.
Banujani’s face came into view. “You could have blocked that.”
“Your disappointment pains me.”
“Not as much as getting knocked on your ass.”
“That is true.” But her breasts were tingling, and it had distracted her for the split second it took for Banujani to become offended she did not haveallof Vivian’s attention, and express that discontent. “I’m getting better, aren’t I?”
Vivian didn’t know how to interpret the ominous silence, and after a moment scissored to her feet. It was amazing what one could learn during training sessions that lasted a minimum of five hours, six days a week.
Banujani was standing several feet away, arms crossed. “Your progression is satisfactory considering you’re human, a civilian, were in absolutely no physical shape—”
“I was in excellent health. Am.”
“For a civilian.” Banujani strode forward and pinched Vivian’s upper arm. “Well, you’ve got a bit of definition now, but you were all flab a few weeks ago.”
“Mid Tier teachers don’t really need muscle tone. Tai’ri hasn’t complained about my curves.”
There was something about training with Banujani that brought out the bolder side of her tongue. Perhaps it was only that getting hit and kicked several times a day put things like manners and discretion into perspective.
Being the target of kidnapping maniacs also lent one perspective.
“Again,” Vivian said.
They drilled for another thirty minutes, Vivian grabbing her focus and wrangling it until all thoughts of the baby receded. Her worries and dreams about the studio, Tai’ri and whatever danger he embroiled himself in on a daily basis. She banished it all, and focused.
She would get this. She would get stronger and she would learn how to protect herself and not be a sitting duck or a burden to her new family.
Banujani signaled for a stop. “Your endurance is getting better, but you get sloppy when you start to get tired. It’s the little one’s lunch time, anyway, I’m guessing. You were grabbing your boobs.” Curiosity crossed her face. “Are they like, psychically attuned to the baby?”
“Well, no. Boobs aren’t sentient. It’s just that the baby is on a schedule and everything just seems to . . .” she waved a hand in a vague gesture “ . . .flow. Literally.”
“Huh. Ok, well, we might as well go eat, too. Tai’ri left little sandwiches and flower shaped fruit in lunch containers.” She shook her head. “Never thought I’d see the day.”
* * *
She saw little of Tai’ri over that week. He left early in the morning and didn’t return home until late at night. She knew he kept tabs on her because at night, if she was awake when he came home, he questioned her about her training and mentioned little things that had happened with the baby. She began to suspect he had cameras in the home and shrugged. Of course he did.
She missed him. It was difficult to find time just for them between their work schedules, the baby, and her own exhaustion between on demand nursing and Banujani’s ruthless determination to turn her into a deadly killing machine.
