The two daggers that had sailed past her head with un-erring aim were now buried into the old wood halfway to their hilts. Renata spun around, furious. "You assho - "
He was right on top of her, his massive body forcing her backward, blue eyes flashing with something deeper than amusement or basic male arrogance. Renata retreated a pace, only far enough that she could brace her weight on one heel. She rocked back and pivoted, her other leg coming up in a roundhouse kick.
Fingers as unyielding as iron bands locked down around her ankle and twisted.
Renata went down onto the kennel floor, flat on her back. He followed her there, spreading himself over her and trapping her beneath him while she fought with flailing fists and pumping legs. It took him all of a minute to subdue her.
Renata panted from the exertion, chest heaving, pulse racing. "Now who's the one with something to prove, warrior? You win. Happy now?"
He stared down at her in an odd sort of silence, neither gloating nor glowering. His gaze was steady and calm, too intimate. She could feel his heart hammering against her sternum. His thighs straddled hers, and he'd caught both her hands above her head in one of his. He held her firmly, his fingers trapping coiled fists in a loose, incredibly warm grasp. His gaze strayed up to their locked hands, fiery light crackling in his irises as he found the little crimson teardrop-and-crescent moon birthmark that rode on the inside of her right wrist. His thumb stroked over that very spot, a mesmerizing caress that sent heat coursing through her veins. "You still wanna know what I saw in Mira's eyes?">One time inside that dark, dank place was plenty. If she had her way, she'd burn the damn thing down to cinders. Renata flicked on the switch inside the kennel door and winced as the bare bulb overhead poured a wash of harsh yellow light into the space. She walked in, over the smooth, hard-packed earthen floor, past the dangling ends of two long, braided leather straps that were looped around the center rafter beam of the structure.
At the far end of the kennel interior stood a tall wooden post that used to be rigged with small iron hooks and loops for storing leashes and other gear. Renata had pried away the rigging months ago, and now the post functioned as a stationary target, dark wood scored with deep gashes, gouges, and nicks.
Renata placed her wrapped blades on a tight bale of straw that squatted nearby. She slipped out of her shoes, then padded barefoot to the center of the kennel and reached up to take the pair of long leather straps, one in each hand. She looped the leather around her wrists a couple of times, testing the slack. When it was comfortable, she flexed her arms and lifted herself up off the floor as smoothly as though she had wings.
Suspended, feeling weightless, temporarily transported, Renata began her warm-up with the straps. The leather creaked softly as she turned and shifted her body several feet off the ground. This was peace to her, the feel of her limbs burning, growing stronger and more agile with each controlled movement.
Renata let herself slide into a light meditation, eyes closed, all her senses trained inward, concentrating on her heartbeat and breathing, on the fluid concert of her muscles as she stretched from one long, taxing hold to another. It wasn't until she had pivoted into an upside-down pose, her ankles now caught securely in the straps to hold her aloft, that she felt a stirring in the air around her. It was sudden and subtle, but unmistakable.
As unmistakable as the heat of an exhaled breath that now warmed her cheek.
Her eyes snapped open. Struggled to focus on the inverted surroundings and the intruder who stood under her. It was the Breed warrior - Nikolai.
"Shit!" she hissed, her inattention making her sway a bit from the straps. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" "Easy now," Nikolai said. He lifted his hand as if he meant to steady her. "Wasn't trying to scare you."
"You don't." Flat words, spoken coldly. With a liquid flex of her body, she moved herself out of his reach. "Do you mind? You're interrupting my training."
"Ah." His dark blond brows quirked upward as his gaze followed the line of her body to where she still hung by her ankles. "What exactly is it you're training for up there, Cirque du Soleil?"
She didn't dignify the jab with a reply. Not that he waited for one. He pivoted away from her and walked over to the post at the far end of the kennel. He reached out, fingers tracing the deeper of the wood's many scars. Then he found her blades and lifted the cloth that contained them. Metal clinked together softly within the folded square of ribbon-tied silk and velvet. "Don't touch those," Renata said, freeing herself of the straps and swinging around to bring her feet onto the ground. She stalked forward. "I said, don't touch them. They're mine."
He didn't resist when she snatched the prized possession - the only things of value she could claim as her own - out of his hands. The spike in her emotions made her head spin a little, lingering aftereffects of the psychic reverberation that she'd hoped was past. She took a step backward. Had to work to steady her breath.
"You okay?"
She didn't like the look of concern in his blue eyes, as if he could sense her weakness. As if he knew she wasn't as strong as she wanted to - needed to - appear.
"I'm fine." Renata brought the blades over to one of the kennel pens and unwrapped them. One by one, she carefully set each of the four hand-tooled daggers down on the wooden ledge in front of her. She forced a smug lightness into her voice. "Seems like I should be the one asking you that question, don't you think? I dropped you pretty hard back there in the city." She heard his low grunt somewhere behind her, almost a scoff.
"We can never be too cautious when it comes to outsiders," she said. "Especially now. I'm sure you understand."
When she finally glanced over at him, she found him staring at her. "Sweetheart, the only reason you had the chance to drop me was because you played dirty. Making sure I'd notice you, pretending you had something to hide and knowing I'd follow you out of that club. Right into your little trap."
Renata lifted her shoulder, unapologetic. "All's fair in love and war."
He gave her a slow smile that hinted at twin dimples in his lean cheeks. "War, is it?"
"It sure as hell isn't love."
"No," he said, all serious now. "Never that."
Well, at least they agreed on something.
"How long have you been working for Yakut?"
Renata shook her head as if unable to recall specifically, even though that night was etched in her mind as if it had been burned there. Blood-drenched. Horrific. The beginning of an end. "I don't know," she said lightly. "A couple of years, I guess. Why?"
"Just wondering how a female - even a Breedmate with your powerful psychic ability - would end up in this line of work, particularly for a Gen One like him. It's unusual, that's all. Hell, it's unheard of. So, tell me. How was it you hooked up with Sergei Yakut?"