Page 20 of Hunted By Wolves and Shadow
I knew full well the danger of witches, but this one didn't scare me. I didn’t want to question why that was. All I knew was it would be terribly inconvenient if this inexplicable attraction got me killed, so I was going to ignore it.
Once she had a good grip on the knife, I took a half step back, tuning out the way my body mourned the loss of contact.Down boy. None of that.
I had her arms pinned at either side of her head, but the gap between our bodies gave her freedom without endangering me. Just because she didn't scare me didn't mean I trusted her.
I should probably take the knife back and forget this, but this niggling urge to protect was hard to ignore. Stupid wolf instincts. Something about her fear when I held the knife to her and remembering how defenceless she’d been against the fenriswulf brought that part of me clawing forward. She was pure prey, and there were more dangerous predators than me out there, so Emi should at least know how to hold a blade properly.
“For your attack, you would have been better off with this grip. Notice how I put the knife in your hand with the blade in the opposite direction.”
She didn't say a word, but she finally let her eyes leave my face and glance sideways to her left hand. The knife was in her fist with the hilt toward her thumb and the blade extending away from her body.
“I noticed you’re left-handed, so if you had stood on this side of the door,”—I moved her to the other side of the doorway, her back still to the wall—“then you could have stabbed much fasterand with more strength by punching out and back. I probably wouldn't have had time to react.”
“Probably?”
It was the first thing she'd said since I gave her back the knife, and I was surprised it wasn't a threat. Or maybe it was, indirectly. I shrugged. “I have good reflexes. And like I said, you're predictable.”
Her green eyes blazed. I grinned at her, flashing teeth. Then I released her hand that held the knife and pressed my body into hers again to keep her from turning enough to stab me. “Go on. Try it.”
Her brow furrowed, and she studied me for several drawn-out heartbeats. I felt each one, thudding harder than usual against my ribs. My face was close enough to hers to feel the scald of her angry breaths across my cheek. I swallowed and clenched my jaw.
Finally, resolve settled in her face, and she moved her arm in a shadow of the outward punching motion I described. The blade ended up in the middle of the open doorway at approximately the height of my heart.
“Faster,” I told her.
She did it again, stabbing into the empty doorway beside us.
“Come on, you can do better than that.”
This time, there was a ferocity to her movement.
“Faster.”
She did it again. Every bit of my skin ignited where I pressed against her. Hot breath tickled my chin.
“Harder.”
She glared and took a heartbeat before she stabbed the open doorway, hard and fast, with a little growl of frustration that sent heat shooting downward through my core. I should rethink my choice of words.
“Better.” I let her go, and she wasted no time proving she wasn't nearly as affected by my closeness and loaded words as I was. Then again, I didn't expect her to be. It's not as if the same filthy thoughts had just rushed throughhermind while I held her pinned to the wall. Her warm vanilla smell did terrible things to my focus.
I deflected her before she could turn enough to try her new move on stabbing me in the chest. “None of that, witchling. I showed you a new skill. Now thank me by chopping something useful, like food.”
“I’m not cooking,” she growled.
“Fine, starve. Doesn't matter to me.” Except it did, for some strange reason. “I’m still not letting you kill me. Maybe another time, darling, but right now I have people relying on me to figure this out, so you'll just have to wait your turn.”
Her face colored deeply again. “Why are you like this?”
“Like what? Sexy? Charming?”
“Infuriating.”
I grinned again. “Oh that. Comes naturally. At least, that's what Fox tells me. You'd like him actually. He's as impervious to my encouraging ways as you are.”
“Why are all your friends named after animals?”
It might have been the first non-confrontational thing she'd said since she found out about Ruby, so I took my time answering. Backing away, I put the length of the couch between us. Firelight heated my calves and cast my dancing shadow across the plush rug to reach Emi’s feet. Hers loomed up the wall behind her where I’d had her pinned. I stayed alert for signs of another attempt on my life, but we each held our ground. The air felt charged.
