What is Hidden (14 page)

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Authors: Lauren Skidmore

BOOK: What is Hidden
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“Oh, shush. Teach me something so I can punch you,” I grumbled.

He grinned at me. The cheeky grin just made me want to punch him more.

“Okay, first, I want to know exactly what you already know.”

“Wait, no! I want you to give me information first,” I insisted.

“I’m not going to cheat,” he said, exasperated. “I’ll talk afterward, while you cool down.”

I frowned.

“Oh, come on,” he insisted. “Don’t you trust me?”

In some weird, twisted way, I
had
come to trust him. And he knew it. Jerk. “That’s a low blow,” I pouted.

“That’s how I fight, m’lady,” he said seriously. The atmosphere around us shifted slightly, and I was suddenly uncomfortable with the serious twist his mood had taken.

There was clearly much more I didn’t know about him than I realized.

“Now, you have my word that I will talk after.” He lightened up a little and pulled me off the bed. He faced me squarely. “Now show me what you’ve got. Pretend I’m attacking you.”

I eyed him dubiously. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

He laughed. “Seriously? You won’t. And if you don’t fight back, I’ll attack you for real. You wouldn’t want that, now would you?”

I sighed, exaggerating my frustration. “All right, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. You are looking at the only known survivor of a Chameleon attack.”

“Yes, well, they are furious little lizards, aren’t they?” he mocked.

I scowled and dove at him, still not entirely serious. I knew how to not get hauled away, and I knew to aim for the groin or eyes. Or behind the knee. I still didn’t really want to hurt him, but if he was going to make light of the Chameleon’s attack on me, well then, I couldn’t be held responsible for that sort of thing, now could I?

He dodged me easily and laughed. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” he asked.

“I didn’t say I knew what I was doing,” I grunted, circling him. “I said I knew how to defend myself. I’m not usually the one on the offense.”

“Fair point,” he granted. “Then get on the defense, my lady.” He spoke in a deep voice that I could feel in my bones. The vibrations made my body tremble; he had used his predatory voice. I didn’t hear it often, but when I did, I knew to watch out.

He lunged toward me, and then it was my turn to dodge him. We played cat and mouse for a mere moment, before he was too quick for me and grabbed my arm. I tugged away, but he had a firm grasp on my wrist that I knew I’d never shake without hurting myself.

Grinning triumphantly, he said, “I’ve got you.”

“But can you keep me?” I shot back, twisting around him so his arm bent at an awkward angle, trying to force him to let go.

But it didn’t work. His body mirrored mine—he moved with me and kept my wrist captive.

“That won’t be a problem,” he growled.

Time for Plan B.

I dropped to the floor, making my body into a dead weight and pulling him forward. He lurched with me, taken a bit by surprise, if I did say so myself, and opened himself up perfectly for a groin kick.

I thrust my heel up, not with all my strength, because I knew it wouldn’t take much, but with enough that I knew it would hurt.

It hit with a dull
smack
, and I grinned triumphantly.

But he continued to move so quickly that I wasn’t sure how he did, and then we were standing face-to-face and chest-to-chest. His arm wrapped around me like shackles, and all I could do was squirm.

“Evie, really? That’s your plan?”

I grunted. “What are you, made of rock?”

He chuckled. “Of course not, my lady. However, my protective gear might as well be.”

“You cheater!” I accused, outraged, still struggling to put some distance between us. “You’re not allowed to do that!”

He laughed loudly. “And why not, pray tell?”

“Because!” I sputtered. “You . . . no one wears that outside of classes! You knew you were going to work with me before I even agreed to anything! And I can’t show you how I work if you’re cheating.”

“I’m not stupid, either, Evie.” He laughed in my face, his breath hot against my cheeks. “I’m not about to let you go crazy at me without some kind of protection.”

I sulked. “That doesn’t change the fact that you shouldn’t have anything right now! I thought this was a spur of the moment thing.”

“What makes you think I don’t wear it all the time?”

“Um, because that’s insane?”

His grin didn’t quite reach his eyes this time. “Would you forgive me if I gave you a little information now?”

I became aware of how close we were standing, but he didn’t release his hold on me. “If you surrender this round to me, and let me go,” I bargained.

“I don’t think you can win by any definition if I have to ‘let you go,’ ” he countered, not backing up an inch. If anything, I think he tightened his grip.

“Well, I can’t win if you’re going to cheat anyway,” I argued.

“It’s not cheating if this is how’d I be on any random day on the street.”

“Okay, that’s not true.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And how do you know?”

He had me there. I had no way to prove it either way, and he knew it. Jerk.

“Are you not going to let me go, then?”

“Do you really want me to let you go? That’ll mean I win, after all.”

“You can’t win if you cheat.”

“Winning is winning.”

“Cheating isn’t winning.”

“I’ve met my end goal. That’s my definition of winning. Do the means of getting there matter?”

“Of course they matter! If anything, they’re the most important part!”

“How do you figure that?” His voice was low again.

“If you don’t play by the rules, you’re missing out on learning how to meet that goal in a way that can be duplicated.” I was strangely breathless. “When you cheat, who’s
to say one cheating method will work again? And in the same way? It’s not going to happen.”

“Well, who’s to say the ‘right’ way or ‘playing by the rules’ way would work again?” He was being purposefully difficult, and we both knew it. “Rules change.”

“Are you going to let me go or not?” Our faces were inches apart. I could feel his grip tightening.

“Are you going to be okay with losing?” The smirk was back.

I leaned forward until we were cheek to cheek, and I whispered in his ear, “Never.” I felt him shiver and his grip loosened just enough.

I dropped to the floor out of his grasp and kicked in the back of his knees, causing his legs to buckle. I slipped around and threw my weight against his chest, knocking him backward in surprise. I straddled his chest. Resting all my weight on Aiden, I grabbed his hands in mine and pinned them above his head.

It happened so quickly that it seemed to be over before it really began. He stared up at me, clearly shocked, and I grinned so big that my cheeks hurt. I leaned over him, so thrilled at my victory that I dropped a light kiss on his mask-covered nose.

“I win.”

He stared up at me, eyes wide, for a long moment. Then the spell broke and he sat up, gently shoving me off as I loosened my grip.

“How on earth is that not cheating?” he accused, ruffling his hair.

“I don’t know what you mean,” I said innocently, grinning cheekily. “Now I believe you owe me some information?”

“You’re terrible.”

“But I won,” I sang, dropping onto my bed and leaning against the wall. “Now tell me a story.”

He shot me a dirty look. “Since I know you’ll never believe me, I’ll tell you why I was wearing protection. I used to get into fights all the time, when I was a bit younger.”

“Fights? You?” I looked at him, disbelieving.

“Don’t interrupt. And yes. I didn’t always start them, but really, how they happened is irrelevant.”

“You were a gangly little string bean, weren’t you?” I cried happily. “Oh, I bet you were just adorable. You’re so tall now.” I was getting some wonderful mental images out of this.

“I asked you not to interrupt.”

“And when have I ever done anything you asked?” I replied impudently.

He rolled his eyes. “So there I was. Fighting a lot. And I quickly learned that my opponents were not above cheap tricks and lows blows.”

“So they cheated?”

He ignored me. “And I found out that if I took measures to block their blows ahead of time, they didn’t know how else to attack me. And then it was easy for me to win.”

“Did you fight back? Or did you just run away after they wore themselves out?”

“I never ran away,” he said seriously. “I’ve never run away from a fight. I’ve never backed down, and I never plan on it.”

“Yeah, and that’s never going to come back to bite you later on,” I said sarcastically.

“Have you ever considered that maybe your interruptions
are why you never know anything about me?” he asked snarkily. “Maybe I wanted to tell you something, and you just kept talking so much that you didn’t hear anything.”

I shut my mouth.

He watched me, waiting for me to say anything more. When I didn’t, he sighed and went back to his story. “And I just got into the habit of always wearing something underneath. It’s served me well many, many times. You’d be surprised at how many people only know cheap shots and nothing more.”

“Probably not. It’s all I know, and it’s worked for me.”

“Until you came up against me, of course.”

“Hey, I still won,” I pointed out.

“You just used a different cheap trick,” he mumbled.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Is that enough information for me to teach you something now?” He tried changing the subject.

I decided to have pity on him and let it go. “I suppose. Though that was for seeing what I already had. I’ll need something else after what you teach me now.”

“I know, my lady. I’m going to keep my side of the bargain, trust me.”

The air was charged again, and I waited for him to begin.

“First, I’m going to teach you how to punch properly. You know how to hit, or slap, but I want you to punch.”

“Okay.” I could see the benefits from knowing how to throw a decent punch without him having to spell it out for me. Even if I didn’t have a lot of power behind it, the whole idea of a girl like me knowing how to punch would be intimidating. I could fake it.

“Okay. Stand back up.” He came to stand behind me. “A lot of your power will come from your legs, even though you’re throwing with your arms. So you need to stand in the right position.” He put his hands on my hips, shifting me and twisting my torso until I was in the position he wanted. It felt slightly awkward.

“Are you sure this is right? I feel like I’m going to fall over.”

“You’re putting your weight on your front foot. Split your balance between the two, and when you’re winding up, so to speak, you’ll shift your balance. Otherwise, yeah, you’ll probably fall over.”

“Don’t tell me, you’re a ‘learn from your mistakes’ type of teacher?” I groaned.

He just chuckled. I had a feeling I was in for a lot of bruising and embarrassing moments.

“All right, so you’re in the right position. Now, put your arms up.” He reached around me, again moving me like a giant rag doll until my hands and arms were just so.

“This doesn’t feel powerful at all,” I complained.

“That’s because you haven’t tried to hit anything yet,” he explained patiently. “Now are you going to be this difficult the whole time?”

“I’m always difficult,” I muttered. “But I’ll try to behave. Sorry.” I knew he was just trying to help me. And I was being a bratty student.

“Thank you. Now, as I was saying, you’ll feel power when you try to hit something.”

He moved around me, and I dropped my stance as he grabbed my pillow from the bed. He wrapped it around his arm and held it up to me. “Now, this is your target.” I opened my mouth to protest, but now it was his turn to
interrupt. “And don’t say anything about not wanting to hurt me. Remember how that turned out last time.”

“Yeah, but this time I can see your bare arm. And that pillow is awfully thin.”

“Evie, just work with me here.”

I put my hands back up.

“Okay, you want to be perpendicular to your target. That keeps your body from being open to any attacks. Now, without me telling you how, I want you to punch my arm with your right hand.”

I did so, or tried to. There was little power in it, and my legs felt tangled up. Plus, he pulled back just a moment before I hit, bringing his other hand around to help soften the blow.

“That was pathetic,” I moaned.

“That’s because you don’t know how to do it yet. And you haven’t built up any muscle,” he added as an afterthought.

“You’re not being helpful.”

“Sorry. Okay, now this time, bend your knees a little and lean back on your back foot. When you swing forward, push off the ground, using the momentum to add strength to your punch.”

I tried to do as he said. The punch still felt weak, but it was stronger than before. “Was that at all what I was supposed to do?”

“Yes, that was just right,” he assured me. “But like I said, you still need to build muscle and strength. Someone your size isn’t going to knock me out with a straight punch.” He grinned.

I was not encouraged by this, funnily enough. And I told him so, asking what the point was then.

“Well, you never know. You might have to go up against someone your size. And you could use this to intimidate someone. And, you know, come off the better side of a fight over materials the next time you go to market.”

I groaned. “You are awful.”

“I know. Now let’s try it with your other arm, and then it’ll be story time and you’ll have your chance to make fun of me again.”

That brightened my outlook considerably. I liked the “making fun of him” part.

We worked on my other side, but not for very long. I was not coordinated enough to transfer what I learned on my right side to use on my left side.

Aiden just laughed at me. “Okay, that’ll need a lot more work,” he said, snickering.

“Oh, be quiet.” I used my newfound punching skills to slug his shoulder. He flinched away, but I think it was just for show. He couldn’t have been that much of a wimp that I actually hurt him.

“Okay, story time again?” I asked, situating myself on my bed, stretching my arms across my body and above my head.

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