Page 87 of The Satyr's Guilt
She smiled. “Bring it on, satyr.”
His irises flashed green. “Overconfidence isnot a good strategy, doll.”
“Why not? It works for you.”
“Again with the smartass. Prepare to behumbled.” Ram bounced on the balls of his feet when he tookposition in front of her. He growled.
Denim lowered her sword, tilting her head.“Don’t growl at me.”
Ram lunged, tapping the point of his bladeto her chest.
“I wasn’t ready.”
“Ding. Wrong answer. You must always beready.”
With her first thrust, he knocked the weaponfrom her grasp.
“That’s a parry. Block your opponent’s swordwith yours. If you do it hard enough, you can kick it out of hishand. Lesson. Hold on tighter.”
Damn.
She was gonna die in her firstswordfight.
“Okay. I’m ready now.”
He stopped, glared, and dropped his swordarm to the side. “Thanks for the warning. Few opponents tell mewhen they’re set to go.”
Denim didn’t answer. She kept her eyes gluedon Ram.
They waltzed around each other for a time,neither the aggressor. When Ram lunged, Denim side-stepped him.
When he fell for a fake, she sliced hisbicep. “Nice, doll.”
As he was talking, she charged, the point ofher weapon glancing off his ribs. “Now who’s distracted?”
He sprang toward her, but Denim parried toblock his move. He almost lost his sword when they clashedblades.
They continued the blade play until shejabbed the point of her gladius against his chest, targeting hisheart.
“Good,” he said.
She spun, slashing, lunging, stabbing. Rambacked up, ducking, sidestepping her maneuvers. He barely dodgedher quick blade.
When she charged, Ram slipped to the sideand wrapped an arm around her, immobilizing her sword. Denimrotated out of the lock, flipping Ram ass over heels onto themat.
“What the hell?” He popped to his feet.
“What the hell is right. I rock. Can youbelieve I did that?”
Ram scratched his head. “No. I can’t.”
Throwing her hands in the air, Denim hoofedit around the gym in a victory lap.
He stared in disbelief. “Doll, I’ve got ahard-on. Love a strong female. I may have underestimated you.”
“I feel ya.” She halted her Muhammed Aliprance. “I underestimated myself.” She tugged on her sports topwhile she fanned her face with a hand. “Boy, it’s hot as hell inhere.”
Water dripped onto her head, rolling downher cheeks. She glanced at the ceiling where a small cloud formed.Raindrops were falling from it.
