Page 37 of Griffin Undone
And wasn’t that just too crazy to even think about.
The room was blindingly bright, the overhead lights reflecting off the white walls and exposing every nook and cranny, including those on Arik’s body. Surveying that body made my breath speed up. His bare chest, smooth and thickly muscular, just like the rest of him, glistened with sweat, the droplets flinging themselves into the air as he twisted and turned, a long wooden stick in his hand. Whatever he was doing, it was beautiful. He was beautiful: dangerous, gorgeous, powerful in a way I’d never encountered before. I closed my eyes and remembered the feel of his breath in my ear, his mouth on my neck. I hadn’t even considered him biting me. Nightmares still haunted me, and the occasional glimpse of Arik’s fangs made it impossible to close my waking mind to what he was—not my enemy, but not that far different from them either. Still, when I allowed myself to think about Arik’s fangs touching my skin, what sparked in my body wasn’t fear; it was hunger.
And that scared me more than being afraid of him.
Wayward libido aside, those fangs also reminded me that he wasn’t a man, and he was leading me into a world so alien I wasn’t certain if my next step would be on solid ground or empty air. I’d apparentlychopped a shifter’s head off.Just the words running through my mind made my stomach churn with the need to vomit.
Of course, they also had me picturing myself dressed as the queen fromAlice in Wonderland, swinging a scepter and running after a shifter yelling,Off with his head!
A giggle, slightly hysterical in nature, rose in my throat. I was so losing it. And now Arik wanted me to train?
Suck it up, Katherine. You’ve got work to do.
Right.
I opened my eyes, searching for something to focus on, hoping to avoid the hysteria bubbling below the surface. My gaze zeroed in on Arik’s strong, sexy body once more. He jumped into the air with a sharp yell, twisted the stick in front of his face as if defending himself from an attacker, then lashed out with one pointed end. Grasping the bottom end, he flung the weapon around and back, turning it full circle above his body as he bent into a deep backbend that could’ve been featured in amovie without special-effects enhancement. On the uprise, a series of blocks, strikes, and circles conjured the image of him fighting someone equally well armed, though I doubted anyone could be nearly as fast. The weapon was a literal blur in motion, sure to take out everything in its path.
With a piercing battle cry, Arik performed a final strike that had him jumping straight into the air and landing hard, knees and stick end striking the concrete floor. The stick popped, the half that hit the floor spinning away, the top still in Arik’s firm grip. He stayed there in a kneeling position, his entire body heaving with the effort of his performance, golden skin gleaming in the light. I waited until a final deep exhale left him before I dared to venture into the room.
Arik spun, the broken staff gripped in his hands, relaxing immediately when his gaze settled on me. I gestured toward his hands. “Lose a lot of sticks that way?”
He glanced at the broken weapon. A short laugh escaped. “A lot.” Walking over to collect the shattered pieces of the other half where they lay, scattered after hitting the concrete wall, he asked over his shoulder, “You ready?”
My noncommittal “mmm” probably didn’t hide my nerves. Fishing for a delay, no matter how futile, I crossed to the rack in one corner of the room. Each space cut into the frame cradled a stick like the one Arik had broken. “What exactly are these?”
Arik eyed me as he ran a towel over his chest. “It’s a bo.” He dropped the towel and walked over, pulling one of the staffs out. “Handy to practice with—not many knives or swords just lying around when you get into a fight, but a broom, shovel, anything with a handle…you can find those anywhere.” He passed the bo to me.
It was surprisingly light. I twirled it experimentally, fumbled, and dropped it. The bo clattered against the concrete floor. “Sorry.” I bent and gingerly picked it back up.
“I take it you don’t have a lot of experience with weapons.”
“Try none.” I’d carried pepper spray in my pocket but never had need of it until the night I’d been bitten.
Arik’s touch pulled me away from the dark memories rising. He slid his hands along mine, shifting their position on the bo until my grip felt comfortable. “The key with blunt weapons is intent. If you swing tentatively, there’s little impact. If you swing with the intent to bash your opponent’s head in, drive all the way through, that power is transmitted through the weapon to whatever you’re attacking.”
He showed me a couple of moves, guiding me through the motions until I got the hang of it, then stringing the moves together to form a basic pattern I could practice—a kata, he called it. He walked me through some shorter sets as well, pushing faster and faster until his punches and kicks were nothing but rapid snaps in the air around me. I was surprised at the ache in my shoulders and arms—the bo was light, but swinging it with accuracy took effort. I was beginning to see why he practiced with his shirt off.
The thought of doing the same had me fumbling a block, allowing a punch to connect with my shoulder. Fortunately Arik pulled it at the last minute.
“Focus,” he snapped. “Always focus. A second’s distraction could mean your death.”
He reset my position, but next thing I knew, he had a bo of his own in his hands.
Oh, abso-fucking-lutely not.
I scrambled back. I’d seen him fight. I liked my body well enough as it was, thanks, no new holes or pieces necessary.
Arik’s heavy look fixed on me, irritation still evident. “Don’t be a pussy.”
I laughed, telling myself that wasn’t hurt curdling in my stomach. Yes, I was scared. A lot. That wasn’t how I wanted Arik to think of me, but welcome to my world. It was who I was inside. He’d seen me at my very worst, in fact.
And yet I had no desire to share the humiliation his words sparked in my deepest recesses. “Meow.”
Arik blinked. A contrite grin tugged at his mouth, and then he was the old Arik again. With a relaxed familiarity I envied, he pivoted the staff around his body. “Okay, okay.”
I shrugged. “Don’t tell me I’m the first scaredy-cat when it comes to fighting you.”
His grin made me forget everything but how sexy he was. “What can I say? I do intimidation well.”
