I released Mark's arm and turned to the other two who were both eyeing me warily, wondering which move they should try next.
"Would it help you guys out if I closed my eyes?" I teased. "Or maybe I can paint my nails."
"That'd be helpful," Shawn muttered, throwing a sudden kick that would have caught me in the chin if my hand wasn't waiting to swipe it away in a lightning-fast move that he didn't see coming. I could have grabbed his heel and set him on his ass in the sand like I'd just done with Mark, but it was more fun to screw with him. Three weeks ago, my taunt would have been countered with claims that I was too cocky for my own good, but after eating dirt for the last three weeks, he was singing a different tune.
"Okay, I'll close my eyes," I said, going for a strategy that Haniel and I had been working on. In the beginning, it was disorienting to fight with one of my senses so completely shut off, but I'd quickly learned that it only heightened my other senses.
Shawn and Robert grinned at each other, not sure if I was serious. It wasn't that long ago that they were concerned about hurting me. Now, after landing on their backs too many times to count, they were hesitant, but wanted badly to get in at least one shot.
I squeezed my eyes shut, letting my senses take over. My ears automatically tuned in to Shawn and Robert's whispered conversation as they discussed their plan of attack. The funny thing is they were still at a major disadvantage and didn't even realize it. With my eyes closed, the elements became my greatest ally. My ears were tuned to every subtle change in sound around me, like the sound of their clothes when they tried to strike, or the smell of their sweat, which gave away where they stood. I had to hold back a grin, knowing that this fight was over before they even thought of what lame plan of attack to use. After a moment, they had their strategy worked out. Just as I envisioned, their less-than-stealthy movements were a dead giveaway. That, combined with their heavy breathing made both of them easy prey. Without giving them a chance to finish their approach on either side of me, I struck out with my closed fist and caught Robert in the esophagus while I whipped the rest of my body around to deliver a roundhouse kick into Shawn's chest.
I could hear Shawn grunting in pain several feet away and Robert gasping for air just to the left of me.
"Oops, did I do that?" I asked, feigning innocence as I finally opened my eyes.
"Damn it, that stung," Shawn whined, staggering to his feet and rubbing his chest in the process.
"I think she freaking knocked my Adam's apple down to my stomach," Robert complained, still gasping for air.
"Sorry, guys. It's a little harder to reign in my strength with my eyes closed," I said, taking in the boot-sized bruise that Shawn had just exposed when he pulled off his t-shirt to wipe the sweat off his face.
"Hear that? 'Reign in her strength.' She's like the effing Terminator," Shawn grumbled, slowly making his way to the wooden staircase that led to the house.
"Jordyn, that was something to see," Mark said with open admiration as he ruffled my hair before following behind Shawn.
"You okay?" I asked Robert who was still sitting on the sand.
"Peachy. I'm not sure what's more bruised: my ego or my throat that feels like a branding iron has been shoved down it. You're like an artist with that skill.
"Like Buffy?" I teased, making him laugh. After our first day of training, the Protectors had nicknamed me "Buffy." I had no idea what they meant, so I Googled the name until I came up with Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I found old episodes on Netflix and spent half the night watching six of them that first night, and became hooked. I felt an instant kinship with the fictional character as she struggled with the knowledge that she was created for a higher purpose to destroy evil. The only part of the show that bothered me was that she never seemed to get the guy. Her duties always seemed to run interference as she was forced to make a choice every time. That part I definitely related to, and I couldn't help the nagging feeling that I was seeing a glimpse into my future. My duties would always dictate the person I was and the people I surrounded myself with. I wanted to hate the responsibilities. To lash out at fate. To demand to be normal like everyone else, but in truth, I didn't hate my strength, or my ability to fight, I thrived on it. I enjoyed combat, honing my skills, and kicking ass.
Despite that, I still couldn't erase my fascination with Emrys that had turned into actual longing in his three-week absence. Even though he deserved a kick in the ass for deserting me. I missed his easy humor, smoldering looks, and the way his touch made me feel. Like the girl Buffy in the show, I wanted it all. I wouldn't give up my gifts, but I also didn't want to give up the guy.
"Definitely better than her," Robert said, taking the hand I offered.
"Well, I take that as the ultimate compliment, coming from you," I said as he staggered slightly from being lifted to a standing position so quickly. "Come on, old man, I'll help you to the house," I teased, draping one of his arms around my neck.
"You got that right," he agreed, leaning on me as we shuffled our way toward the staircase with Haniel trailing behind us, looking as smug as an archangel was allowed. "So, what season are you on?"
"Four. That show is the bomb."
"Yeah, it was a favorite of mine growing up. The movie was cheesy as hell, but the show was awesome."
"Truth," I said as we climbed the last step. "Better go let Lynn take a look at you to make sure I didn't do any permanent damage," I added, plopping down on the oversized padded porch swing that overlooked the ocean.
"What is this show you speak of?" Haniel asked once Robert had staggered inside.
"Buffy the Vampire Slayer," I answered, using the toe of my boot to gently swing back and forth.
"Vampire?" he asked, looking mystified.
"Yeah, you know, a bloodsucker," I answered. He still looked confused so I continued. "It's a mystical creature that's supposed to be really strong. Some portray them as grotesque-looking while others paint them as being beautiful beyond belief. They drink human blood to stay alive and are very hard to kill."
"There are no such creatures like you describe. Animals do not drink human blood, they devour their flesh," Haniel clarified, making my description sound ludicrous.
"Hence the wordmystical," I joked. "It's just a creature that has been written about and hashed over many times over the years. Every generation has a different spin on what a vampire actually looks and acts like," I added, not admitting how much time I had spent on Google researching them after I had started watching Buffy. Their hard-to-destroy image reminded me of Daemons, thus they had sparked my interest.
"Mystical," Haniel said, rolling the word over with his tongue. "I have heard Krista refer to herself and Mark as mystical and they don't drink blood."