Chapter 462
Katelina woke the next evening to someone pounding on the door. She reached for Jorick, but he jerked out of bed, slid locks aside, and yanked it open. "What in the hell do you want?"
Katelina cringed back into the blankets, imagining Wolfe, or one of the other Scharfrichter come to drag them to the dungeon. Micah's voice came as a shock.
"Tell that lazy bitch to get up. We have training."
The slam of the door cut him off.
"He's joking, right? The sun isn't down yet." Katelina's words surprised herself. There were no windows, and yet she knew.
"Never mind. You're not going anywhere with that imbecile."
Micah pounded on the door. "I beg to differ. Remember that blood debt shit? She owes me until she gets her fucking training done. That was the deal, jackass."
"You're the jackass!" Katelina threw the blanket off. "I suppose I have to." One look at Jorick's furious face made her look away. "I'm sorry."
His fists clenched at his sides. "You have nothing to be sorry for, little one. Malick and Micah" He made a low noise in his throat. "Never mind. We'll play his game. For now."
Katelina only had the clothes she'd worn yesterday. She brushed her teeth, and finger combed her hair, more from habit than necessity. It didn't matter what she did, the blonde locks fell in perfect waves around her shoulders. At least there was a plus side to immortality. Besides being immortal.
Xandria leaned up from the open coffin, her sleepy eyes half open. "What's going on?"
"Idiocy," Jorick snapped. "Go back to sleep."
The woman blinked uncertainly and Katelina added, "If we're not back, use the phone to order room service. They can just charge it."
"Ok." Xandria dropped back into her bed.
Katelina jerked the door open to reveal an impatient Micah. Instead of his usual biker outfit he wore a pair of sweat pants and tennis shoes. In one hand he held three bags of blood and in the other a soft cooler-style bag.
"About damn time. Is that what you're wearing?"
She glanced down at the baggy t-shirt and jeans. "What's wrong with it?"
"Hardly clothes to work out in. Whatever, I don't care. Is crab ass comin'?"
Jorick pushed his way in front of her. "I will be there."
"Whatever man. I don't give a shit, as long as you stay on the sidelines and don't baby the fuck outta her. Here." Micah tossed them each a bag of blood. "Special delivery breakfast. You can thank Oren for it. Now let's get goin'."
Jorick growled low, but they followed the bald vampire down the hall. He tore his bag open savagely and gulped it down. She tried to do the same and splashed crimson on her shirt.
"Fuck, we can't take you anywhere, Lunch."
Jorick tore the top off her bag, turning it into a soft plastic cup. "That might be easier."
The scent of the blood overwhelmed her senses and she gulped it down.
"Goddamn. You're like a starving animal." Micah snickered. "If you're good we'll grab some more later."
The elevator took them to a lower level. They followed Micah down a corridor and into a cavernous gymnasium. Their footsteps echoed as they crossed the shiny wooden floor. Micah fished a key out of his pocket to unlock a black door, then motioned them inside.
"Where did you get that?" Katelina demanded.
"That German chick. She thought you'd rather practice in here instead of in public."
Sadihra. Katelina wasn't sure whether to be grateful or not. A better tactic would have been to stop this insanity. Though she agreed that she needed training, one look at Jorick's barely contained rage said this wasn't the way to go about it.
Micah shut the door while Katelina looked over the room. The floor was covered in thick vinyl mats. A rack stood against one wall. Instead of the sports balls she expected to see, it held different kinds of weapons. On the wall next to it hung three dented shields and some old pieces of armor. Heaped on the other side were various wooden boxes, some large enough that she'd have had to jump to get on top of them.
Micah motioned to one of the corners. "You better stand over there outta the way." Katelina started to move and he broke into rough laughter. "Not you, princess. The Guild dog."
Jorick stood in front of him, close enough to punch. "I will kill you."
"Yeah, yeah. Until then, get the fuck outta the way. Or should I go file a bunch of paperwork bullshit and have that Homer Rat make a legal ruling about whose fucking fledgling she is?"
"It's H?here Rat," Katelina snapped. "It's German."
And they already had.
"Yeah, whatever, babe. I don't care what they call themselves, fuck, I don't even wanna deal with them, but if that's the only way overprotective here will back off-"
She rolled her eyes. "Jorick, just-"
He growled and flung himself onto the pile of boxes.
Micah tossed his cooler bag aside. All mirth disappeared and he barked at Katelina, "Show me what you got."
She stared at him. "What?"
He held out his arms and motioned her forward. "Come at me. Show me what you got."
"You want me to attack you?"
"Yes!" Jorick snapped. "For the love of Christ, smash his face in!"
Micah grinned. "See? Lover boy's got the idea. I knew you were a spoiled princess pussy, but come on. If I let your Guild dog have a shot he'd punch me, no problem. Course, I'd still kick his ass."
Katelina glared. "No you wouldn't."
"Yeah I would. Just like I'm gonna kick yours. Now come on, Lunch, lay it on me." He stuck out his chin.
Katelina stepped up to the bald idiot and wadded her hand into a fist. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, and readied her arm. He motioned her again, but she dropped her hand "This is stupid. Let's start with something else. Like weapons."
"Fuck weapons. Your fist is your fuckin' weapon. Besides, what you gonna do when you get attacked and you ain't got no weapon? Unless you're planning to keep a sword up your ass."
"She doesn't need to worry about it," Jorick snapped. "I'll protect her."
"Right. Like you protected her in Indonesia? That's why me and Loren had to cut her outta tight spots? And that's why fuckin' Malick was there doin' all that mind control shit? And that's why Samael fuckin' took her, cause you were doin' such a damn good job of protecting her. You were busy, Executioner. You can't always be on alert twenty-four-seven to take care of her. And what about when you're not there? Like China. Where the fuck were you when Malick's goons kidnapped her and dragged her off to that fuckin' palace in the desert? You sure as fuck weren't there when they slit her goddamn throat!"
With a howl of rage Jorick jumped off the boxes and charged, only Katelina reached Micah first. His words echoed through her head like a bad dream sequence and she pummeled him in time to the sound. She was tired of it all: tired of cages, tired of being used as a weapon against Jorick, tired of being hurt, tired of being weak, tired of being afraid, and tired of being helpless. She wasn't helpless. She wasn't weak!
With a roar she smashed Micah's nose. He grabbed her wrists and shoved her backwards as blood sprayed. She lunged for him again, and he knocked her legs out from under her.
She caught herself before her face slammed into the floor. Jorick bent over her protectively but she pushed him back and pulled into a crouching position, her muscles coiled, ready to spring.
Micah signaled her to wait. He moved to the cooler bag, with his head tipped back and his hand over his bleeding face. The zipper came free with a tug. An ice pack and several slippery bags of blood tumbled out. He snatched one, punctured it with his teeth, and took a long drink. Though it wasn't a lot, it was enough to stem the flow of his injury.
When he'd stuffed everything back in the cooler he addressed her. "I guess that's not bad for a start. At least you inherited some strength. But you're just throwin' punches like a wild woman. How the fuck you gonna take out an enemy like that?"
He stopped in front of her and held his hand out. "Now get up and try that shit again, only not quite as berserker-psycho-bitch, huh?"
She could feel Jorick's eyes on her; feel him wanting to beat the hell out of Micah and whisk her off to some cushioned, protected room where he could take care of her. Except, Micah was right. Jorick couldn't be there all the time. He had a thousand and one other people and things to take care of, and it was time that she lifted one burden off his heavily laden shoulders.
She let Micah pull her to her feet, and wiped her bloody hands on her t-shirt. He nodded approvingly and maneuvered her around. "Now come again, but not like that. See your fist? That's sloppy. You'll get your wrist broken like that." He molded her hand into the right shape. "Like this. And don't just throw punches at anything that will connect. Go for the vulnerable spots. The face is good; the nose, the temples. Over the heart." He touched her fist to his chest. "Kidney shots are good if you can get behind them. And don't just throw all your punches like that" he demonstrated her forward jab. "Hook it like this." He curved his arm and stopped, knuckles resting against the side of her head. "And bring it up." He demonstrated an uppercut to her jaw. "And don't just use your fists. Use your feet. Kick 'em in the knees, knock their legs out from under them if you can. If it's a man, kick him in the nuts."
Katelina cocked an incredulous eyebrow. "Are you serious?"
"Fuck yeah I'm serious. Fight dirty. Hell, pull their hair if you have to, and don't be afraid to bite them and rip their goddamn throat out if that's all you can do. Remember, princess, they're probably trying to kill you, so don't let high ideals stand between you and living another day. Get 'em down, then ram your fist through their fucking' chest and take out their goddamn heart. Crush it to a fucking pulp so they don't get back up. But, most of all, remember you're not a fucking human anymore and don't let the bastards scare you." He took a step back and held out his arms. "Now try that again. This time put some real fucking effort into it, huh?"
