Tags:
Fiction,
Science-Fiction,
Romance,
Contemporary,
Urban Fantasy,
Paranormal,
series,
Action,
paranormal romance,
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woman protagonist,
ABNA contest,
ilona Andrew,
Unbounded,
clean romance,
patricia briggs
meant. My grandmother probably confided a great deal about my personal life to Ava, as she had to the other neighbors who all knew me by sight. I wondered if Ava had learned why I’d left law school.
My emotions seesawed again, and I glared coldly at her. “I will never forgive you for making my family suffer any more than they already have.”
The compassion in her face didn’t ease my anger. “That’s your choice. Regardless, you are my primary concern right now, especially after the anomalies in the burn center records. We closely guard our genealogy, and we don’t think they can connect you to us, but for the time being, it’s vital that your parents go through with the funeral.”
Vital for the Unbounded, she meant.
“I could at least call them,” I said.
“No, because you couldn’t explain. Even on secure lines we use code. The Emporium has enough technology to make countries like America and Japan look backward in comparison. Please just wait until after New York. This operation is extremely important.”
“Why?”
“I can’t tell you that. Not yet.”
“Because you don’t trust me.”
She sighed. “Because you haven’t decided yet what side you’re on.”
Having no answer, I turned and went farther into the suite. The centerpiece in the spacious bedroom was a huge bed with a wrought iron headboard, the mattress so thick I’d need a step stool to climb under the golden quilt. A door on the far side opened onto an oversized bathroom and a closet bigger than the bedroom in my basement apartment. Clothes filled a two-foot portion of one rack, and several drawers held underclothes and socks. Apparently, Dimitri felt our relationship would be long term.
Removing the cell phone from my pocket, I hid it under the socks. Better to keep it here as it was unlikely I’d have a chance to be alone during the training session. Besides, I hadn’t exactly decided who I’d call and what I’d say. It wasn’t every day I had to inform people I wasn’t actually dead.
Minutes later, dressed in loose gray sweat bottoms and a red sports bra, I reentered the sitting room where Ava waited. In silence, we went through the house again, going down a wide staircase that opened into a family room. Beyond that was the gym, its floor lined with mats and exercise equipment running the length of the walls. Ritter had changed into sweat bottoms as I had and was on his back lifting weights, his blue T-shirt darkened with sweat, his triceps gleaming with the effort. He was beautiful to watch.
“Ritter, not too hard yet,” Ava warned.
He cast me a mocking glance. “I’ll go easy on her.”
I only hoped I had the opportunity to “accidentally” hurt him. Really hurt him.
Ava was smiling as she left, as though she suspected my determination, which irritated me even more. “So what does a combat ability mean exactly?” I asked when she was gone.
Ritter put aside his weights and came toward me. “It means having fast reflexes and good coordination, anticipating your opponent’s moves, and knowing the best way to kill.”
If that was true, my chances for escape should be increasing by the minute. “Okay, let’s do this.”
Ritter took two long shiny sticks from a rack on the wall, tossing one to me. His was black, mine a deep blue with white marbling. I ran my hands along the smooth surface that tapered to a blunt point on each end. “This is a bow staff,” Ritter said. “We’ll begin with this since your skin is still healing. Hold it like this. No. Look at my hands. About this far apart. Spread out your feet. If they’re together, you’ll be knocked off balance too easily.”
I readjusted my hold and my stance. I felt good. Steady. Maybe I could do this.
“Come at me. I’ll show you how to block.”
I hit his stick with a satisfying thump.
“Not like that! Hit me like you mean it. You can’t hurt me.”
I attacked, slamming the stick into him, aiming for his inflated head. He blocked me
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