Arrow to the Soul (17 page)

As he’d hoped, twin flags of red dotted her cheeks, clinging to the curves of her face as anger did to the hollows of his heart.

“Would you care to know my given name?” she asked, still circling. A taunting smile curved her bow mouth, and he ached to lick across it even as he hated himself for the desire.

“Names have power.” He threw her comment about Aziveh back in her face.

She cocked her head and went completely still. “
Taigāsu ga shinu to sono kawa o nokosu. Hito wa shinu to sono namae o nokosu.”

He stopped as well, relaxing in his space even as his mind prepared to fight. “I still don’t speak Japanese.”

“Tigers die and leave their skins. People die and leave their names.”

He strained to hear her words and when he processed them, chills were left on his skin. “And are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Going to die?”

She smiled again and it was beautiful. “Won’t we all?”

“Some of us more than once,” he responded as he fisted his hands, trying to crush the need to reach for her.

“Would that were true, Mr. Collins. It would make this life more bearable, I think.”

Silence reigned for long seconds as they stood there, fifteen feet and worlds apart. “What is it?”

Her entire body loosened, arms slackening as she her knees bent slightly. “What is what?”

“Your name.”

“Shall we spar for a boon then?”

It was his turn to smile. “I thought we were fighting?”

She laughed, and it too was beautiful. “Winner gets a boon of their choosing. It is how my sisters and I have always played this game.”

He had to harden his heart so he started with his voice. “Oh, so now it’s a game?”

Her smile disappeared and he was glad. The sight of it made him want impossible things from this killer.

“It is not a game. Death is never a game.”

His body followed the path of his heart, hardening, blood pounding as his cock rose to her taunt, heart thumping in anticipation. “Yes, let us fight for a boon.”

She bowed her head. A silky hank of hair fell from its place in the bun on her head, sliding against her cheek. The dichotomy of the dark strands against her creamy skin made him draw in a rough breath.

Her gaze missed none of it. She was dressed in black sweat pants and a T-shirt. As he stood there debating how best to approach this fight, she took off the T-shirt, leaving her in a black sports bra and sweat pants. There was a long scar on her lower abdomen. Adam felt rage move through him as he wondered how it’d come to be there.

She slowly pulled off the bandage at her side. The puckered flesh there made him ache inside. Hate and some unmentionable emotion wrapped together tightly, twisting and twining, digging deep until there was no way of telling what he felt anymore. He did know one thing—had she not killed Hunstall, he would have a hundred times over for the damage he’d done to her.

She lowered to her knees. Adam did the same.

“We need rules in this contest, Mr. Collins.”

“There are no rules in battle. First person with three falls loses.”

“Winner gets a boon of their choosing,” she said softly.

Goddamn
. He couldn’t put that in her hands. He’d fought her before, knew she was more than capable of kicking his ass if he dropped his guard. What would she ask for? Her gaze sparked. She baited him.

“Agreed.” He would win. There was no other option.

“Then we shall fight, with no rules, winner takes a boon,” she said loudly.

He bowed his head in acceptance.

She hopped to her feet in a single, lithe movement and went into a ready stance. The injury at her side didn’t seem to impact her at all. Her weight balanced on both legs, front leg slightly forward and bent, back leg also bent. Her hands remained at her sides though tension ran through her body now.

He rose to his full height as adrenaline coursed through his system. So slowly he recognized her goading for what it was, she raised her hand and waved him forward. She had done it once before, when they’d fought in the courtyard the night she’d arrived.

Her face blanked and her breathing slowed, nostrils flaring like she was a wild thing drawing in the scent of a predator.

“I have often sought the weakness of my enemies, but I find with you, Mr. Collins, I am loathe to find them,” she said into the quiet. “I am even more reticent to use those weaknesses against you.”

“I have none,” he responded, readying himself.

She closed her eyes and said, “Yes, you do.”

Chapter Sixteen

Adam timed her breaths and waited. On the third inhale he struck with a spinning back fist which she simply moved her upper body away from. Her feet remained where they were and she leaned backward, swinging her torso on her hips, ducking under his punch and once again standing tall.

He feinted and she dodged but never counter-punched. Saya kept her eyes closed, face serene as he struck again and moved away. She deflected each blow he delivered, casually and with little to no effort.

Urgency began to boil in his veins, the need to show her who was dominant a thrumming beat in his mind. She turned in a circle and Adam realized they would engage this way for the entire fight unless he took her to the mats beneath them.

His heart rebelled even as his body swelled and demanded he do just that. Adam was quick, a bit of a gutter-fighter but trained in American Karate and Jiu Jitsu—definitely capable of using it to his advantage.

Where his movements were raw aggression, hers were fluid, evading, and yet before his eyes her muscles began to twitch. He could almost smell her need to punch, hit and kick.

“Fighting,” he grated out, “usually involves two people.”

Her eyes opened and he was stunned. He’d noticed her amber eyes had a queer light when she was in the midst of anger, frustration, or arousal. He cursed, let it flow into the air, and winced afterward. They damn near glowed right now.

He had roused a dragon.

He blinked and she shifted forward, leg rising to deliver a quick front thrust kick to his gut before she took a step back.

His breath left him and she smiled. Surprise was a tactic she used better than anyone he’d ever faced and it was that which took his breath because she hadn’t kicked with full force. More so than even Bullet, Arrow commanded her space. But he’d be damned if he’d stand there and let her steal the breath from him.

Adam moved forward and delivered a straight punch, which she blocked with her forearm as she swung around. She moved so damn fast he didn’t see her fist until it was right at his face. His eyes crossed as her fist nearly touched his nose. She pulled the blow and then shifted away.

“Were we counting points instead of falls, Mr. Collins, your ass would be grass,” she murmured.

He spun backward and delivered his own hook kick, tapping her hip with his toes. She laughed and the sound reverberated through the room.

“I need contact,” she said softly.

He stood tall, raising his hand and mimicking her from moments earlier, waving her forward. “Let’s do this.”

It
would
be a full-on fight, then. She was the wind and the water, flowing around him so smooth and fast he couldn’t keep track. She punched his shoulder and his right arm went numb. She kicked his thigh and he dropped to a knee.

“One fall,” she exclaimed softly.

Adam pushed to his feet, determination forcing away the temporary numbness in his arm and thigh. She danced too close and he caught her forearm, holding it away from her body as he spun
into
her, putting his shoulder into her armpit and then judo-throwing her to the mat.

The breath whooshed from her lungs but again that ghostly smile clung to her lips.

“One fall,” he returned.

She spun on her back and was on her feet instantly, arms at her sides, black hair falling around her body. The ebony strands gleamed in the muted lighting of the big room and his hands clenched into fists. Her hair could be a detriment. Granted someone would have to catch her first.

Her eyes flared. His body tightened.

“What are you waiting on?” he asked.

Goddamn it, she smiled again. “Nothing.”

As if a match struck kindling, their furies unleashed. One strike given, one received until the symphony of their movements across the mats rang in his ears and the adrenaline of their battle was a taste on his tongue. His blows landed but without any leverage, because he was constantly in defensive mode.

He tried another straight punch, and she easily changed his direction with a quick block followed by an incredibly short, incredibly hard jab to the area below his ribs. He grunted and fell to a knee again, winded and hurting.

“Two falls,” she whispered at his ear, and he swore he felt her lips there.

He pushed up and closed his eyes, needing to center himself, wondering if he could. She was ungodly fast, her movements a blur most times. The only way he hit her at all was more-than-likely by luck. It pissed Adam off.

He had to throw her off her game but recognized there was no way to do that with this killer who was slowly taking pieces of him away. Would she hoard them or give them back? Would he have to beg or give his life?

It was potent the energy and need running through him. Her smell permeated the air, filling his lungs and making him want. His hands refused to cooperate, refused to push through his punches and deliver a strike that would debilitate.

He hated her. He wanted her. And it was messy, this lust barreling through him now.

“You can always give up,” she taunted.

He snorted and turned to face her. Saya’s body was lithe but her natural curves called to everything male in him. His mouth watered and her gaze zeroed in on his lips. She licked hers and the groan that escaped his chest surprised him.

“When it’s something I really, really want, Saya, I never give up.”

She nodded at him. He approached her slowly, keeping the length of her leg between them.

“I will win,” she said clearly, and the husky tones of her voice stirred his soul.
Ancient
.

He punched and she deflected, he feinted and she ducked. It was a battle of wills. Punch, deflect, slice, and defend. Adam let his gaze go unfocused. She battled him as if he were that fucking Wing Chun dummy. Her punches landed and he realized he’d bruise from this. But she never moved away, just countered and blocked, attacked and repelled.

Finally, he had her strikes timed. A small part of his mind realized she played with him and was probably pulling her punches. Had this been real combat, she would already have his balls through his nose. That she’d stood in front of him and done what amounted to playing patty-cake with him gave him a hope of sorts. Perhaps he wouldn’t have to beg.

Between one strike and the next he pushed through her guard, grabbed her around the neck, interlocked his hands and pulled her head down while at the same time sweeping with his leg and taking hers out from under her.

She fell to her stomach though her hands caught her.

He followed her down and whispered in
her
ear this time. “Two falls, Saya.”

She grunted and got back to her feet. Her face was flushed. They’d been fighting for at least thirty minutes, long rows of kicks with the occasional intercession of falls. For the first time since he’d laid eyes on her, Adam felt fatigue.

This had been both the best and the very worst of ideas. While her face was flushed, she wasn’t winded. He was sucking in air like a racehorse.

She cocked her head, black tresses falling to the side and he could just make out the tattoo at the hairline on her neck. “I think it’s time to end this.” Her words were both threat and promise.

A scrollwork C with an arrow’s tip stylized into the details. It grounded him.

“Yes, let’s do.”

He stared at her hard for long moments. Then he blinked and found himself on his back.

She smiled and whispered, “
Watashi ga katta.
” Then she stood and stepped back, hands at her sides, head bowed.

Adam had no clue what she said, but it sounded jubilant. He glanced at the ceiling and swallowed hard, unable to believe she’d put him on his ass that quickly. She was fucking amazing.

It was his turn to gain his feet and they stood there, staring at each other.

“What boon would have from me?” he asked as everything in his body tensed.

She raised her chin, gaze hot and slicing through his defenses. “A kiss.”

His heart stopped beating. Silence rushed at him and then his heart kicked back into a pattern that made him want to bend over and catch the breath she’d torn away with her words.

“I thought you didn’t want me touching you,” he bit out desperately.

“Want has nothing to do with it, Mr. Collins. It is simply self-preservation.”

Disbelief held him rigid. “And now…what? The walls have crumbled down and you request a kiss from a man you’d just as soon kill?”

She shook her head. “No, Mr. Collins. I request a kiss from
you
.”

Her words ripped into him, clashing in his ears and leaving a gaping hole where before there had only been his conviction to hate her.

Saya’s chest rose and fell, harsh breaths flaring her nostrils. This was obviously difficult for her. What Adam couldn’t figure out was the why of it.
Why
would she want a kiss from him?

“Why?”

She closed her eyes and turned away. His heart cracked under the pressure. Saya walked to the door and opened it, glancing at him before she walked through.

“I had thought to taste you again, Mr. Collins, so I could remember that in the midst of death, there might be a reason to live.”

Chapter Seventeen

Saya walked from the room with her head held high. She’d never thought she’d have reason to want a man’s kiss. Now that she did, she’d sacrificed all pride to beg for it. That she’d won the boon mattered not. It was more that she’d given away a piece of herself to the man in the room behind her by asking for
his
kiss.