Page 72 of Bitten Vampire
“Simone,” she says, offering her hand.
“Fred.”
“It’s lovely to meet you, Fred.”
Baylor sniffs her cautiously. She presents the back of her hand.
“I don’t really like dogs,” she says matter-of-factly, giving him a perfunctory pat. “Where I come from, dogs hunt or guard; you don’t keep them as pets.”
Baylor’s ears tilt, unsure what to make of her, but he behaves. I scratch behind them. “Good boy.”
Simone’s smile is feline. “The security cameras caught how you dispatched those assassins. Brave work. You fight remarkably well, so I thought I’d introduce myself before tonight’s meeting and while our liege is busy.”
If only she knew it wasn’t exactly me.
She tilts her head. “Fancy a workout? I know you’re newly turned, but you’re a day-walker! I’ve never met anyone with your gift before, so you must be special. Dispatching the humans today must have been dull; they break so easily. Have you had a proper play with your powers yet?”
“Er… no, not really. And I haven’t met many vampires.” Unless running from them counts.
“Wonderful—exciting!” She claps once and strides to my wardrobe as though we are lifelong friends. Workout clothes fly my way. “Go and change. The others will be hours yet; we’ve plenty of time.”
“Oh. All right.” I hesitate. “Are we allowed?”
She shrugs. “Who’s stopping us?”
Moments later, I follow her through the house to a moonlit room with floor-to-ceiling windows opening onto a patio. Beyond them, a sleek glass annexe houses an illuminated indoor pool. Vampires, it seems, live well.
Weights and strange matte-black machines are arranged with military neatness. The air smells of cedar and lemon polish. In the centre lies a sparring circle: dark wood inlaid with runes. No soft blue mats here. I wonder whether a vampire body even bruises.
We stretch. Simone moves like water; I mimic her easily—this body feels engineered for efficiency—even if my brain hasn’t caught up.
“Right,” she says, shaking out her hands, the faintest smirk on her lips. “Show me what you’ve got.”
“I thought we were just working out.” I glance at the equipment. “I’ve never really?—”
“Never?” She raises a brow. “In the security footage youhandled that stake like an expert. Don’t tell me that was beginner’s luck.”
“It might have been.” I grimace.
“Only one way to find out.” She gives the universalfight megesture.
I have no idea what she wants me to do. I reach for her wrist, but she slips away, frowning. “Again.”
I lunge—clumsily—and this time she doesn’t merely dodge, she hooks her hip and sweeps my leg out from under me. The world tilts. Floorboards connect with my face. My nose blazes.
“Ow! Bloody hell?—”
Simone hauls me up, one hand on my elbow, the other patting my shoulder. “Sorry. My bad. Let’s try it slower.” She places my hand on her wrist. “See this grip? Thumb here, fingers here. Now hold, don’t just… flap at me.”
We drill it, over and over. My grip is either too loose or too tight. Once, I nearly wrench her shoulder out of its socket; I’m still not great with this vampire strength. Patiently, she corrects me until my muscles remember before my brain does.
“Good,” she says, stepping back. “Now, punching.”
I tap the reinforced bag; it barely moves. She snorts.
“Honestly? It’s like you’ve never thrown a punch in your life. Lucky for you, I’m a brilliant teacher.” Her fist cracks into the bag like a gunshot. “Power comes from your hips. Twist through. Punchthroughthe target, notatit. Again.”
I try.
