Page 16 of Blood Descendants
“Your boss going to be a problem?” Ares asks as he dismounts and takes the helmet as I remove it. “Your heartrate is going crazy.”
I flush at that. Damn vampire. “Most likely,” I say as I nervously run my hands through my hair.
Ares simply makes a noise I can’t quite interpret as he secures the helmet. And then he slips his hand into mine, sending my heart straight against my ribcage. He pulls me after him through the doors.
The scent is the most familiar in my life as we step inside. It’s at once home and the source of an exceptional amount of pain, all at the same time. It’s the same place I came to after the worst day of my life. It’s where I learned how to fight. Where I had my first kiss. It’s where I thought I’d find my own path in life. And it’s where I lost it all, where he walked all over me.
There are two rings when you first walk in. To the left, there are heavy bags and speed bags, all the stuff you need to train as a boxer. To the right is our MMA cage. Straight ahead, there is a hall with five doors branching off of it; one leads to my classroom, one is the weight room, two open to the locker and shower rooms, and the last leads to Tate’s office.
There are a dozen people here, even though it’s late morning now. I recognize every one of them, all the amateurs, all the trainers.
“Garrett, you seen Tate this morning?” I call out to the trainer I’ve known since I was thirteen.
“Back in his office,” Garrett calls out. “What you doing in here this early?”
“Got some shit to take care of,” I answer, as at home here as anywhere in my life.
“So, just another Monday, eh?” he calls with a chuckle as he holds up the punch mitts. He glances away just once, though, his eyes going straight to my fingers interlaced with Ares’.
I don’t answer him as I steer both of us toward the office.
“You’ve spent more than just work time here,” Ares notes aloud.
But I don’t get a chance to confirm, because I knock on the office door before pushing it open.
“You’re not on until tonight,” Tate says, barely glancing up at me from his paperwork.
“I know,” I acknowledge. “But something’s come up. I’m going to have to take some time off work.”
That grabs his attention. He finally looks up, but it isn’t me he looks at. His gaze immediately locks on Ares. He looks him up and down, taking in the tattoos, the piercings, the dangerous set of his jaw, and the fact that he hasn’t removed his sunglasses despite being inside.
“Ares Hunt,” he says coolly as he steps forward, his inked hand outstretched. “Lana’s fiancé.”
Tate’s eyes narrow, and he shakes Ares’ hand automatically. “Fiancé,” the word comes out like it doesn’t have any meaning. And his eyes slide over to meet mine without moving his head. “What the fuck is this con talking about?”
Wow. Judge much?
“Let’s not pretend we’re friends, Tate,” I say, all of my insides bristling. “Just cause you aren’t part of it doesn’t mean I don’t have a life outside this building. And don’t you dare call him that again.”
Ares squeezes my hand, and I’m not exactly sure what it’s meaning is. Appreciation? Support? Trying to calm me down?
“Some like keeping private things private,” Ares says. “Don’t assume you know anything about anyone, and your life will be much simpler.”
Tate is sizing Ares up. Which, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say they’d be on par with one another. Tate is six-two, the same height I’d guess Ares is. He’s well-built, muscled, and solid. Tate spent five days out of seven here before his hostile takeover. He can take on pretty much anyone who walks through the front doors.
But Ares is more than meets the eye.
“Why do you need the time?” Tate finally asks as he looks back over at me.
“I’ve got some in-laws to meet,” I say, going for as close to the truth as I can manage. “And wedding plans to make. Life is going to be a little… complicated for a few weeks.”
“And you think I should just let you out of work because you come in here with someone you say you’re engaged to? Come on, Lana. You’re not a very good liar.” I hate the look on his face, the one that says he thinks I’m stupid. I hate that he’s seeing through this so damn easy.
“Lana’s lips always taste like strawberries and kiwi.” My heart jumps up my throat as Ares steps forward. He rests his hands on the surface of Tate’s desk, but every inch of him looks poised to rip the man’s throat out. He leans in close, his tone calm and deadly sounding. “She has two little freckles on her left ass cheek. She prefers dark chocolate to milk. She hates Monday mornings more than just about anything. And she makes the most incredible noises when she comes. When you know any of those details, then you can call her bluff.”
Shit. I feel like my entire body has gone red. I press my thighs tighter together, and something in my lower belly tightens.
Ares words reach a very deep, very primal part of me that’s been dormant for a long time.
