Page 66 of Inception

“What is this place?” I asked as we veered left down the first intersection. My voice sounded small here, distant, as though it had been insulated from itself.

“We call it theLab. It houses our main training facilities and weaponry vaults.” He stopped in front of a bolted door and pressed his finger into the reader.

I glanced up at Julian who stood beside me, towering over me by nearly a full foot. “I’m Jemma by the way,” I said, extending my hand to him as I examined his features—dark eyes, strong Roman nose, goatee.

“I know who you are.”

He peeked down at my hand but didn’t bother taking it.

Okay then. Chattyandfriendly. “Nice to meet you, too,” I muttered to his back as he walked into the room ahead of us.

“After you,” said Gabriel, holding the door open.

The room was extensive and surprisingly well-lit in comparison to the dank hallway we had just come in from. The concrete floors were covered in blue sparring mats and the walls were railed with an impressive assortment of artillery and other oddly shaped weapons I couldn’t name.

“What is all this stuff?” I asked, peering around the room.

“Just a few of the many weapons you’ll eventually learn to use,” said Gabriel, his demeanor all-business. He seemed perfectly at ease here as though he himself were a biological extension of the room.

I watched as he walked over to the bench lined up against the back wall and carefully removed his leather jacket. He placed it down on the bench and then moved to the matted area at the center of the room. Eyebrows furrowed, he crooked his finger and motioned for me to join him as Julian took his seat next to the door.

I dug my feet into the ground and crossed my arms. This whole training-with-a-vampire-to-kill-vampiresthingjust got a little too real for me.

“Is there something wrong?”

“I just...I don’t...” I shifted my weight around, trying to form a cohesive thought. “It’s a lot to take,” I finally said.

He stared at me expressionless.

“Being here, seeing all these weapons.” I shook my head, feeling overwhelmed. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

His eyebrows rose.

“Figures,” snorted Julian.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He didn’t bother looking up from his magazine.

“Never mind him,” said Gabriel as he sauntered back over to where I stood. “Just focus on why we’re here.” He took me by the wrist and towed me to the mat. “We’ll start slow. Just the basics,” he added, carefully removing my zippered hoodie and tossing it onto the bench behind us.

I noticed he took great care not to touch my skin and wondered if it was for Julian’s benefit, or his own.

“What are the basics?” I asked, rubbing my arms for warmth.

“Whatever it is you need to know to get to the next level. Right now, foryou, the basics are defensive tactics.”

I actually liked the sound of that.

“Once you’re comfortable with your ability to self-defend,” he said as he repositioned the mat, “you’ll move on to other things like offensive striking, unarmed combat practice, assault drills, weapons training—” He stopped abruptly, remarking the horror in my eyes. “But for now, we’ll just stick to the basics,” he reiterated in a gentler tone.

I glanced down at my skinny jeans and camisole. “What about my clothes?” I had assumed tonight was going to be more of ameet-and-greetsession and didn’t really think to dress for an actual training session.

“They’re fine,” he said without looking. “You need to be able to do this in your everyday clothes.”

“No one’s going to care what you’re wearing, kid,” snipped Julian, his tone unmistakably mocking.

“No one was talking to you!” I snapped back. What the heck was this guy’s problem anyway?

---