Titus walks away from me toward the wall that has the cabinets. He opens one on the left and as I look inside, I’m surprised to see it’s a wardrobe of women’s workout clothing. He steps back, sweeping a hand toward it. “Carrick had it stocked for you today.”
My jaw drops as I step forward. I flip through the items on hangers, noting they’re all my size—workout leggings, tanks, and sports bras. On the floor are three pairs of Under Armour shoes, worth way more than I would spend on myself. I don’t know whether to be impressed or creeped out.
But it’s not the time to ponder the question. Instead, I grab a few items, then Titus points me toward the door. “Turn right, and you’ll find the bathroom down on the right.”
Of course, I take a wrong turn, get semi-lost, backtrack, and stumble upon the bathroom. It’s beautifully done in alabaster marble and satin silver fixtures. Even though it’s just a guest half-bath with no shower or tub, it’s still large enough to fit several people inside.
After I’m dressed, I fold my clothes and leave them on the bathroom vanity, making my way back to the gym. I take the elastic I usually keep on my wrist to pull my hair up when it’s too hot and bothersome, and I secure it in a thick ponytail that sits high on the back of my head.
When I enter the gym, Titus is still at the built-in cabinets, but he has another set of doors open and I feel my blood start to race as I see a slew of various types of weapons attached to the back wall. There’s recessed lighting above them, so they all seem to glisten and sparkle in a way that says, “We aim to do your bidding. Let’s get out there and maim.”
When he hears me approach, Titus nods at the cabinet. “We’ll do weapons training at some point, but I wanted to show you the choices you have.”
“My choices?” I ask in confusion, coming to stand right before the array of knives, daggers, axes, maces, and the like.
“In Semper Terra, you’d be trained on all of these, but we won’t have time. Soon, I’ll let you try them out and see if any speak to you.”
In admiration, I let my gaze roam over the selections. I have experience with nunchucks and staffs, but again, that’s just sparring around with Duane and I doubt either would be effective against a powerful fae or daemon.
They’re all so beautiful and sharp looking, but my eyes keep returning to a bullwhip hanging on the left side of the cabinet. It has a beautifully etched silver handle, but my view is abruptly cut off when Titus closes the doors.
Smiling, he promises, “Maybe next time we’ll play with them.”
“When is the next time?” I ask, intensely excited about learning from this man.
“My evenings are yours. Tomorrow at six work for you?”
“Perfect,” I grin with excitement over what Titus can teach me, but then immediately feel a bit sad. The day after that is Friday and Carrick wants to take me to meet someone who could have some information. Saturday, I have my date with Michael.
I’m not quite sure what it says that, for a split second, I consider canceling my date so I can train with Titus. Quickly, I shake that notion off and inform him of my date. He inclines his head, promising, “We’ll make up for it on another day.”
It’s exactly something Duane would have said to me and I just can’t help but like this guy.
Titus moves to the middle of the gym floor where there’s plenty of space for us to work, and I follow.
“What type of training have you had?” he asks.
“When I was young, karate and jujitsu. The last four years, mixed martial arts.”
“Show me your fighting stance,” he orders.
I put my left foot forward, slightly bending my legs and spacing them to give me stability. Hands up—left in front of my face and the right hovering near my jaw.
Titus clasps his hands behind his back and walks around me, checking my technique with what I believe to be an overly critical eye. I watch him in the mirror opposite me, admiring the form I’ve perfected over the last four years of training. I can’t even begrudge the hours Duane put a thick elastic band around my legs, just above my knees, and had me walk up and down the gym in this stance. I’d been left with quivering thighs, but it had worked wonders for my muscle memory. My stance is as natural to me as is breathing air.
Before I can even fathom what’s happening, Titus drops low, extends a leg, and spins so fast that he’s a complete blur. His shin catching the calf of my back leg, he moves powerfully through to catch the back of my knee on the other. My legs fly out from under me, and I go crashing flat on my back to the floor.