he was highly trained. In fact, his fighting style reminded her of the guy who had killed Mary: controlled, disciplined, but vicious. Maybe
he
was one of Skizzâs henchmen, too. It was weird, though. Where did Skizz find these guys? For somebody who had seemingly been such a
loser
âfat and Strung out and patheticâSkizz had sure as hell known some dangerous and powerful people.
And why wasnât this guy trying to finish her off? Why was he prolonging the combat?
Maybe heâs toying with me.
If Gaia were able to feel fear, this would certainly be an opportune time for it to kick in. But instead she just felt the usual: a void, partially filled with an intoxicating excitement. This guy
had
to have been hired by Skizz. Retribution from beyond the grave. There was no other possible explanation. Which meant that Skizz had been much smarter and more powerful than sheâd suspected. Even though he was dead, people were still coming after her. But they could have just
shot
her. She couldnât begin to guess what this guyâs motives wereâthis guy who kept circling her endlessly, blocking every punch and kick but not really making an effort to fight back. Maybehe wanted to torture her. Maybe he wanted to make her suffer instead of killing her.
âGaia!â
Samâs voice tore through the night.
Christ.
It was about time. Only years of rigorous training prevented her from turning in the direction of Samâs approaching footsteps. Her eyes remained fixed on her opponent. If her focus wavered even for an instant, this guy might just decide to end this little gameâand her life in the process. Anything was possible. She couldnât be too careful with him.
But instead the guy just smiled.
She froze in midstep, struck by the sinister contrast between his lips and his eyes. His lips were curved upward, but his eyes remained lifeless. In a way, his expression hadnât changed at all.
âGaia!â Sam shouted again.
The guy whirled and sprinted away from her, disappearing into the shadows of the park. Within seconds heâd vanished. Silently. Another sure sign of excellent training.
âHey!â she called. But he was gone. She stood on her tiptoes, straining to see himâbut before she knew it, Sam had thrown his arms around her. He squeezed her tightly, choking for breath.
âI ran as fast as I could,â he gasped. âI saw that you were in a fightâ¦.â
Gaia wanted to answer him, to tell him that she was all right. But she couldnât. Every ounce of energy drained from her body. It seemed to pool on the frozen pavement at her feet. She started to open her mouth ⦠only her legs gave out from under her. She pitched forward against Samâs body, thankfully blacking out before she even had a chance to be embarrassed.
Proof Versus Instinct
IT HAD TAKEN EVERY OUNCE OF TOMâS self-control not to leap from his new rental car and intervene on his daughterâs behalf. But somehowâeven from the very moment Gaia had been attackedâheâd known that intervention wouldnât be necessary. She could hold her own, obviously; heâd trained her very well ⦠but that wasnât the reason.
The reason was because she wasnât in jeopardy. Not seriously, anyway. Her attackers didnât intend to kill her.
The signs were subtle, but it was still clear (from the point of view of a skilled martial artist, anyway)that those men had been
testing
his daughter. Sizing her up. Examining her range, her limits. Her stamina. Tom himself had been subjected to many similar tests when heâd first joined the agency: seemingly random fights that sprang from nowhere, pushing him but never placing him in mortal danger.
Loki.
The name reverberated through Tomâs brain like a funeral knell. He swallowed, half expecting his twin brother to leap out from behind the car right now and pump a bullet into his head. There was no doubt
he
was one of Skizzâs henchmen, too. It was weird, though. Where did Skizz find these guys? For somebody who had seemingly been such a
loser
âfat and Strung out and patheticâSkizz had sure as hell known some dangerous and powerful people.
And why wasnât this guy trying to finish her off? Why was he prolonging the combat?
Maybe heâs toying with me.
If Gaia were able to feel fear, this would certainly be an opportune time for it to kick in. But instead she just felt the usual: a void, partially filled with an intoxicating excitement. This guy
had
to have been hired by Skizz. Retribution from beyond the grave. There was no other possible explanation. Which meant that Skizz had been much smarter and more powerful than sheâd suspected. Even though he was dead, people were still coming after her. But they could have just
shot
her. She couldnât begin to guess what this guyâs motives wereâthis guy who kept circling her endlessly, blocking every punch and kick but not really making an effort to fight back. Maybehe wanted to torture her. Maybe he wanted to make her suffer instead of killing her.
âGaia!â
Samâs voice tore through the night.
Christ.
It was about time. Only years of rigorous training prevented her from turning in the direction of Samâs approaching footsteps. Her eyes remained fixed on her opponent. If her focus wavered even for an instant, this guy might just decide to end this little gameâand her life in the process. Anything was possible. She couldnât be too careful with him.
But instead the guy just smiled.
She froze in midstep, struck by the sinister contrast between his lips and his eyes. His lips were curved upward, but his eyes remained lifeless. In a way, his expression hadnât changed at all.
âGaia!â Sam shouted again.
The guy whirled and sprinted away from her, disappearing into the shadows of the park. Within seconds heâd vanished. Silently. Another sure sign of excellent training.
âHey!â she called. But he was gone. She stood on her tiptoes, straining to see himâbut before she knew it, Sam had thrown his arms around her. He squeezed her tightly, choking for breath.
âI ran as fast as I could,â he gasped. âI saw that you were in a fightâ¦.â
Gaia wanted to answer him, to tell him that she was all right. But she couldnât. Every ounce of energy drained from her body. It seemed to pool on the frozen pavement at her feet. She started to open her mouth ⦠only her legs gave out from under her. She pitched forward against Samâs body, thankfully blacking out before she even had a chance to be embarrassed.
Proof Versus Instinct
IT HAD TAKEN EVERY OUNCE OF TOMâS self-control not to leap from his new rental car and intervene on his daughterâs behalf. But somehowâeven from the very moment Gaia had been attackedâheâd known that intervention wouldnât be necessary. She could hold her own, obviously; heâd trained her very well ⦠but that wasnât the reason.
The reason was because she wasnât in jeopardy. Not seriously, anyway. Her attackers didnât intend to kill her.
The signs were subtle, but it was still clear (from the point of view of a skilled martial artist, anyway)that those men had been
testing
his daughter. Sizing her up. Examining her range, her limits. Her stamina. Tom himself had been subjected to many similar tests when heâd first joined the agency: seemingly random fights that sprang from nowhere, pushing him but never placing him in mortal danger.
Loki.
The name reverberated through Tomâs brain like a funeral knell. He swallowed, half expecting his twin brother to leap out from behind the car right now and pump a bullet into his head. There was no doubt
Similar Books
It's Always Darkest Before the Fridge Door Opens: Enjoying the Fruits of Middle Age
Phil Callaway, Martha O. Bolton
