Surely I could find a relationship with a better concoction of emotions. Once I had that thought in mind, my rationality returning, my blood began to cool.
"It should be illegal for smug vampires to look that good," Lindsey said, clucking her tongue.
"That is so true," I agreed, thinking a little less hotness would make my relationship with Ethan a lot simpler. I lifted my gaze away from the fighting vampires to scan the rest of the room. The balcony that ringed the Sparring Room was filled with vampires, men and women. The women, and a few of the men, stared at the action below them, eyes hooded, cheeks flushed, all of them enjoying the sights below.
"On the other hand, they're the ones creating this pec-tacle." I slid her a glance, arching an eyebrow. "Pec-tacle?"
"You know, like spectacle" - she paused to point at her br**sts - "but with more dude ni**les. Do you disagree?"
I returned my gaze to the Master vampire who was currently leaning over to pick up a bokken, a wooden practice weapon, from the mat. Muscles clenched and tensed as he moved, ni**les pert on his chest.
"Far be it from me to disagree," I said. "They have created quite a pec-tacle. And when they put it out there like that, they can hardly expect us not to look." Lindsey gave me a nod of approval. "I don't know where the bravado comes from, but I like it."
"I'm trying it on," I whispered back, which was true. The transition to vampire hadn't been easy - psychologically or physically - but I was beginning to get the hang of it. I'd essentially gone through the physical change twice, since the first time around hadn't quite taken. (Ethan, in a fit of guilt, had drugged me through the first transition, which apparently forestalled the complete change.) That was on top of my move out of the Wicker Park brownstone I'd shared with my former roommate - and former best friend and nascent sorceress - Mallory, and into Cadogan House. I'd managed to hold my own when dealing with my parents and their fusty friends, a step I'd taken at Ethan's request when we were trying to keep vampire raves out of the press. And, not counting the two times I'd faux-battled Ethan, I'd managed to subdue Celina approximately fifty percent of the times she'd come looking for a fight, which wasn't awful, as batting averages went.
With that excitement under my belt, here I was, a new vampire in the historic position of Sentinel, guarding the House against creatures both living and dead. I'd gone from graduate student to vampire fighter nearly overnight. And now Noah Beck wanted to be the one to capitalize on that.
"Merit. Merit."
Although Lindsey said my name at least a couple of times, it was the jostling that finally did it, breaking me from the memory of my meeting with Noah and bringing me back to the Cadogan House Training Room, to Lindsey, who'd nudged me with her shoulder to get my attention, and to Ethan, who stood before me, hands on his hips, shoulder-length blond hair tied back, one eyebrow arched condescendingly. Luc was nowhere in sight . . . and all eyes were on me.
"Um, yes?" I asked.
The vampires snickered.
"If you're finished with your daydreams," Ethan said into the silence of the room, "perhaps you might consider joining me?"
"Sorry, Liege," I muttered, and stepped out of flip-flops and onto the mats, sheathed katana in hand. I was already in my training ensemble - a black sportsbra-type top and yoga pants. I followed Ethan to the middle of the floor, very aware that dozens of vampires were following our movements. He stopped, turned to face me, and bowed. I did the same.
"It is important," he began, loud enough for all to hear, "that you be prepared, should the need arise, to fight. And to master that fight, you must first master the steps. As you also know, our Sentinel hasn't yet mastered the art of sparring. . . ."
He paused just long enough to give me a pointed look. So sparring wasn't my thing. I was good at the Katas - the building blocks of vampire sword fighting. I'd been a ballet dancer, and there was something very dancerly about the moves. They were positions, forms, steps that I could memorize and practice and, by repetition, perfect.
Sparring was different. Having grown up with my nose in a book, I had no experience at fighting beyond a couple of experimental kickboxing classes and a few run-ins with Celina and her assorted minions. I knew my weakness. I spent too much time trying to think through the fight - trying to find an attacker's weaknesses, to exploit them - while at the same time trying to keep from overthinking the fight. That had become even harder in the last week, as I'd worked with Luc to keep the cacophony of smells and sounds that threatened, post-change, to overwhelm me, down to a dull roar.
"But her work with the Katas is unparalleled." He arched an eyebrow at me - half challenge, half insult - and took a step backward. "Sentinel," he said, his voice lower now, the order just for me,
"Katas, if you please."
"Liege," I said. I lifted my sword with both hands, my right hand on the handle, left hand on the sheath, and moved my hands apart, unsheathing it with a quick whistle of sound, light glinting from the polished steel. I walked to the edge of the mat and placed the lacquered sheath on the floor beside it. Then, with all the confidence and bravado I could muster - easier now that I'd been asked to join a secret corps of vampire warriors - I returned to him, faced him, and gripped the katana in both hands.
"Begin," he ordered, and took steps backward, giving me room. There were seven two-handed Katas and three more single-handed moves. Those were new to me. But I'd been practicing the traditional Katas since I'd become a vampire, and, frankly, I wanted to show off a little. In the week that we'd been working together, Ethan had seen me practice the Katas only in traditional fashion - one Kata at a time, my movements timed and precise. But that wasn't all I could do. .
. .
I bladed my body, katana poised before me. "Fast or slow?" He frowned. "Fast or slow?"
I smiled cannily beneath my fringe of bangs. "Pick your speed."
"Vampires?" he asked aloud, but his gaze on me. "Fast or slow?" There were "slow" stragglers, but the majority requested "fast."
"Fast, it seems," he said.
I nodded, centered my weight, and moved. The first kata brought the sword arcing across my body, then returning to the center position. The second was a downward strike. The third and fourth were combinations. The fifth, sixth, and seventh were combinations with spins and parries. In traditional form, when the focus was on precision and control, each Kata took ten or fifteen seconds. But done fast, I could work through the entire set in twenty seconds. I'd learned speed from my former trainer, Catcher, a sorcerer with a penchant for katanas and sword fighting. (He was also, not coincidentally, Mallory's boyfriend and my grandfather's employee.) Catcher demanded I practice the moves over and over, thinking repetition would force the muscle memory. It had - and it had allowed me to use my increased vampire strength, speed, and agility to push the forms into a single dance of movement so quick my body blurred with the speed of it.