by Dannika Dark
Who?
“Don’t interrupt. You’re skilled, but you fight with something that others do not: anger. Most fighters are too busy concentrating on their next move to feel emotion. You react as if everything’s personal, and whether or not that’s going to hinder you in the long run remains to be seen, because I haven’t witnessed you fight without it.”
Her energy spiked. Those juicers are probably still in a fetal position, wishing they’d never met me, so don’t label my anger as a weakness. Why shouldn’t I be angry that a bunch of clowns wanted to take advantage of a drunk girl and steal her light? If it hadn’t been me, it might have been another girl who couldn’t have defended herself. Maybe you can shut off your emotions like a faucet, but that’s what keeps me centered.
His eyes studied her oval face, her lips in need of balm, a speck of dirt on her left cheek. He had an impulse to kiss her but pushed away the thought.
“Your deafness will always be a weakness. If you don’t make an effort to read lips and rely on your other senses, you’ll never be able to anticipate the intent of your adversaries.”
Body language is the only language I need to understand, she countered.
He squeezed her hand. “You flash too much. That’s something you need to save as needed, not use to step out of the way of a swinging fist. If you waste your energy too early in a fight, you’ll weaken. And before you pipe in with words of wisdom, if you had fought Muttonchops at night, you’d be in a fine mess. Don’t think I didn’t notice you pulling light from the sun when he punched you in the ribs. That split-second decision could have meant life or death. If you can’t learn to deal with pain, then you will always be inferior. These brutes will use every spare second to attack instead of healing their broken nose.”
I use what I can, when I can.
“Bloody hell! You should be on your knees thanking me that I’m here.”
Ella burst out laughing and covered her mouth, silencing herself. For just a brief moment, he’d heard her voice. Not the feral scream from Hannah’s training room, but something melodic and sweet.
She lifted her eyes to his. I’m thankful you’re here, Simon, but I’m not thankful enough to get down on my knees.
His shoulders sagged. “I missed my own innuendo. Bravo. I think that’s enough training for today.”
Her eyes rounded, and she gripped his hand. Please, not yet. It’s still early. We can fight more if you want.
“No, we’ve damaged enough egos for the day.”
Please. Her inner voice fell to a whisper. Just a little longer. She never lets me out anymore.
Simon didn’t think he had a heart until he felt it constrict. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. Ella could use a shower and clean clothes. Her beige dress looked like something out of a horror movie, and the last thing he needed was to have Hannah weaseling out of the contract and not paying him. That was a lot of money to walk away from, and no matter how insufferable that woman was, Simon had a long life ahead of him and needed to secure his finances.
“Well…,” he began.
Ella leaned sharply to the left, looking at something going on behind him. Simon turned around as a car peeled off, a plume of smoke rising from the burning rubber. Behind it, a large Chitah was chasing it on foot.
“Justus, you sodding bastard,” Simon murmured, watching Levi leap onto the trunk before he rolled off and hit the curb.
Chapter 11
If Simon wanted to take Ella into a broom closet, she’d gladly go. She’d go anywhere to avoid the hell of solitary confinement, where she was locked away from the distractions and influence of the outside world. How did Hannah expect her to live independently if she wouldn’t even open the cage? Every bird needs to test its wings.
Ella ran a comb through her wet hair, separating the strands and pulling the water to the ends. She inspected the corners of Simon’s bathroom, wondering if he was perverse enough to install hidden cameras.
She thought about their trip to Roughnecks and how close she’d come to slipping out of sight and running away. Without knowing how fast Simon could flash, it wasn’t worth chancing. One foolish move and she’d be back to square one.
Ella pointed her toe and slid on her black stockings—the only thing she demanded Simon didn’t wash. He hadn’t offered her any of his clothes to wear, so she snatched a silk robe hanging on a silver hook. The cool fabric caressed her skin as she tied the belt around her waist. It went past her knees, but on a tall man like him, it would barely cover his thighs. Simon was over six feet tall, and while Ella wasn’t especially short, she certainly couldn’t ignore his impressive stature.
Ella placed her hands on the sink, thinking about how her restrictive lifestyle was causing her to make irrational decisions. Why else would she have slept with a repugnant man like James? He was vain and not at all attractive. His features were carved and lifeless, as if he were simply fashioned into existence for an aristocratic life. But Ella had chosen to sleep with him because she just wanted to feel again.
She had slept with two young men in her life. Ella had been an affluent teenager who’d never spent time around boys until her late teens. They’d been curious about her because she was different from the other girls. At least, that’s what they told her. Ella had grown into a young woman who gained the admiring eye of many men, and after the night her family was murdered, that attention frightened her. Her fear of intimacy had become a weakness, and she knew she had to conquer it in order to put the past behind her.
Images flashed in her mind of James and how he’d pressured her to share her light. Why didn’t I just let him? she thought.
Fear. That’s why.
The sex part was a challenge since she hadn’t been with a man in years, so Ella had decided to separate emotions from the act. All that pent-up frustration had evolved into raw desire mixed with a need to be in control. But her light… she just couldn’t do it. Sharing her core light with another man felt more intimate than sharing her body. Her light was the only pure thing she had left in this world to protect.
Ella squeezed out the ends of her hair and cursed herself for having wasted her choice on a man like James. The last thing she wanted was to become like her Creator when it came to relationships. Hannah took lovers; that was no secret. But the men didn’t like her, and she looked relieved when they left the house. Sex was nothing but a commodity, and how ironic considering many of the ancient women had been brought into their world to service the men. Ella wasn’t blind to what was going on around her, and maybe that was why she was desperate to find a way out.
Ella emerged from the bathroom and padded into the living room. One side had a desk and workstation, while in the middle was a humble arrangement of old furniture.
She ran her finger across the edge of the television and wondered how much money he made in his line of work. Based on his meager abode, she guessed not much. Immortals flaunted their money, and the older they got, the more ridiculous they became with their purchases. To her right, a short hallway led to the front door and what looked to be a closet. Farther ahead on her right was the kitchen. He had a nice little apartment—lots of light from the corner windows, comfy furniture, and a modest size. Living in Hannah’s mansion had seemed exciting at first, but over time all that space just made her feel even more alone.
She drifted into the kitchen, running her fingertips along the smooth granite countertop. As she looked at all the appliances, a smile touched her lips. He took pride in this room above all others, and when she opened the fridge and peered in, her eyes widened at all the food.
When Simon pinched her side, Ella stood up so fast that she hit her head on the bottom of the freezer door. She grimaced, holding the back of her head and turning around.
Simon made the motion of spooning food in his face. He didn’t seem to care what her answer was, because he nudged her aside and began setting plates on the counter.
Ella strode over to a small table by the window and took a seat, wat
ching a man with a leather collar slice gourmet cheese. He had a rock star presence with his thrashed-up clothes, unkempt hair, and piercings. But it was his accent that made her warm and tingly. Why were men with accents more forgivable? His vocabulary wavered between British and American English, but he still spoke with an undeniable accent and used words that made her want to laugh. Sometimes his thoughts would get in a tangle, and a flurry of words would spin around in his head like socks in a dryer before he could formulate a coherent thought.
A plate full of snacks appeared in front of her, along with strange-looking cheeses, meats, tortilla wraps, and a green dip she wanted absolutely no part of.
Simon tossed a couple of games on the table, his mouth moving a mile a minute.
She could tell by his expression and hand gestures that he was apologizing for the food, as if he were serving her porridge. Maybe he’d meant to whip a lobster out of his ass, but it looked pretty tasty to her.
Ella sampled a funny-smelling cheese while Simon opened a box sitting in an adjacent chair and unfolded a long board.
She shook her head and pushed it away, her hands trembling. Tiny beads of sweat formed on her upper lip as she looked at the map.
Simon gripped her hand, and his voice rang in her head. “This isn’t just for fun. I need to know how your mind works—how you strategize. So let’s play a game of Risk and see how well you do. Not to boast, but no one ever beats me.”
With trembling hands, she separated the tiny colored blocks he kept inside a black sock, her stomach sick with memories. The board was old, weathered, and didn’t have the same pieces as her little brother’s.
Three hours later, war was raging in Europe. A smile played on her lips, one that made Simon want to flip the board over. Ella had gained control of the game, but Simon wasn’t a quitter. Especially since her defenses were weakening in Asia.
Sweat touched his brow, and as much as he wanted to crank the air on, he didn’t dare break his concentration. What had begun as a test of her strategic thinking had evolved into war. They hadn’t linked hands in hours, and Simon had never played a game against someone he couldn’t verbally intimidate. He’d raked his fingers through his hair so many times that it was sticking out in all directions.
The phone rang. He ignored it at first, but the insistent chime reminded him that Hannah would be checking on them.
“Bloody hell,” he murmured, holding up one finger. “Be right back.”
He leaned on the counter and answered, “Simon Hunt’s sex line. What’s your dirtiest fantasy?”
“That men will perish and women will rule the earth?” Hannah replied.
“Sorry, wrong number. For that request, you’ll need to ring the department in charge of flying pigs. Do you want me to transfer you? I think they’re busy at the moment working on a snowstorm in hell.”
“Tell me about today’s events.” Hannah wasted no time beating around the bush.
“Your Learner made grown men cry. She stabbed one after giving him an atomic wedgie. Did you teach her that move?”
Hannah replied with a hint of disgust. “I’ve tried to correct those impulsive and childish tactics, but she believes that an immortal who’s fought in great battles would never expect to have their opponent stick her tongue up his nose.”
Simon scrunched his face and peered over his shoulder at Ella. “She does that?”
“Once, with my guard. She won the match but not my respect.”
Ella gazed toward the window on her right. It hadn’t escaped his attention that she was wearing black stockings beneath the bathrobe.
“As much as you enjoy playing games, Mr. Hunt, I do not. What else happened?”
He rolled an orange around on the cabinet. “I think someone’s been watching us. He’s patient, but I’m curious to know if he’s following me or my pupil.”
Simon listened to the sound of her fingernail tapping against her teeth.
“See that no one gets close. If she engages in physical combat, I want it to be someone you choose randomly. Do not accept challenges from anyone. Do you understand me?”
“She’s crafty and deft. Not many Learners move the way she does. Her body’s more flexible than most of the men I’ve trained. It gives her an advantage. She doesn’t hesitate to pull a weapon and use it. I never quite know what she’s going to pull out from beneath her dress next.”
“I taught her well,” Hannah remarked.
“You always were a humble leader.”
“And you always were—”
“Well hung,” Simon finished with a chortle. “But let’s get back to the matter at hand. If you want to know my honest assessment, I think she holds herself back. She doesn’t appear to have any physical limitations, but she needs to learn how to read lips for her own benefit. Her senses are sharp, reflexes on point, and she reads body language just fine.”
“And whose body has she been reading?”
Simon walked barefooted into the living room because Ella had been watching him. “I assure you that my library has remained closed at all times—even if my spine does need a good bending.”
“See that it stays that way. Did you get a look at who was following you?”
He knitted his brows and plopped down on his sofa. “Only a blurry glimpse as the bugger drove away. Could have been anyone. We weren’t exactly on the Chantilly lace side of town. Is there someone in particular I should be on the lookout for?”
“When can I expect her home?”
“She’s mine until the sun goes down.”
Simon tossed the phone on the sofa. Something wasn’t settling with him. Ella had been oblivious to their stalker, but it didn’t come as a surprise to Hannah. It made him think about how close she’d kept her Learner over the past years. Simon had assumed it was to conceal Ella’s disability, which was undoubtedly part of it, but now he wasn’t so sure that was the whole of the situation.
Ella drifted across the room and sat to his right. She smelled like soap. His soap. She’d also kept her hair down for the past several hours, and once it dried, it had a wave that was quite fetching.
She slipped her hand in his, curling her slender fingers. Was that Hannah?
“You shouldn’t refer to your Creator so informally while under her care.”
She slouched. It doesn’t matter unless I’m speaking directly to her, and I haven’t done that in years. Anyhow, I’m sure she wouldn’t care to hear some of the names I’ve been calling her.
That piqued his curiosity. “And what names are those, fairy princess?”
Vagina Lips, Cruella, Mistress Unibrow…
He laughed and draped his arm over her shoulder, wiggling his fingers until she held that hand. “I think I might have to change what I call her to Vagina Lips. That’s catchy.”
You have a nickname for her?
Blast, he couldn’t help himself. “I call her the Ice Queen. But mum’s the word. The last thing I need is a rumor attaching me as the source of that nickname. Your Creator has an unusual fascination for all things white.”
Ella looked at him sweetly, batting her lashes. Maybe it’s to hide her black heart.
Now that was an odd thing to say, even in jest. “You play a good game, Learner.”
Ella.
“I’d rather not get personal,” he said, touching the coffee table with the tip of his shoe.
Her smooth voice floated around in his head. I was just naked in your shower. I think we’re past formalities.
“You’re starting to sound more like Hannah. Is that how you really talk, or are you trying to emulate your Creator, even in your own head?” Simon shifted his body toward her. “You said you weren’t matched by the Mageri. How did you meet?”
A wall rose in her mind, one that towered miles high like a shield of ice. When Ella averted her eyes, he leaned in to speak in a low voice. Then he remembered it didn’t matter since she couldn’t hear him. Yet he couldn’t draw away. The smell of her clean hair kept him preoccupie
d, as did how silky it felt against his nose.
She ducked forward. Are you smelling me? she thought loudly.
“Are you ignoring me? Let’s cut the evasive bullshit, shall we? There’s no reason why you can’t tell me how you ended up with a dame like Hannah. If you know anything about our world, you’ll soon come to find it’s a common question you’ll be asked a hundred times over.”
One I can’t answer. Anything else?
“You’re deaf, not mute. I know you have a voice. Why don’t you speak?”
Because I can’t hear myself, and I’ll sound stupid. People will laugh, she whispered quietly in his head.
Simon was certain that reply had slipped out by accident.
He rethought his strategy. “It would be a shame if I had to tell Hannah we hit a roadblock and you had to go back to your lonely life at the castle. Nothing you tell me leaves this room. I may have an arrangement with your Creator, but I also establish a relationship of trust with my pupils. People prefer to hire men who know how to keep their mouths shut.”
And yet your mouth has been open since the moment we met.
Simon stopped talking and concentrated. Beyond the wall she’d put up, he heard a flurry of whispers circling like a cyclone. Not only that, but he sensed a bend in her mood. Her emotions were like two butterflies caught in a breeze—each unable to take direction.
“Come on, love. It can’t be that terrible.”
She told me not to talk about it with anyone. Ella moved his hand off her shoulder and turned to face him, her eyes sorrowful. A familiar look he recognized from his own mirror on occasion.
He took her hand. “I’ll never repeat whatever deep dark secret you’re hiding. You’re quite naïve to think your story is darker than anyone else’s. Did someone trade you off? Were you one of those human pets that Shifters love to keep around the house?”
I tried to kill myself.