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Lindsey and I moved slowly through the line, pushing our plastic trays along the steel rack and nabbing food and drink as we passed. Since I'd fought yesterday, and would be fighting again in a few minutes, I didn't want to overdo it, but there were a few essentials I needed: a pint of Type O; a mess of protein (satisfied today by sausage links and patties); and a solid dose of carbs. I plucked a couple of biscuits from a warming pan and arranged them on my tray before grabbing a napkin and silverware and following Lindsey to a table.
She picked a seat beside Katherine and Margot, two vamps I'd first met in Lindsey's room during a night of pizza and reality television. They smiled as we approached, then adjusted their trays to make sure we had room to sit down.
"Sentinel," Margot said, pushing a lock of gleaming, short dark hair behind her ear. She was absolutely gorgeous, with a bob of dark brown hair that curved to a point across her forehead, and long, whiskey-warm eyes that would have been equally well suited on a seductive tiger. "Training tonight?"
"Indeed," I said, sliding into a chair and popping a chunk of biscuit into my mouth. "After all, what would a day in Cadogan House be if Sullivan couldn't humiliate me?" Lindsey nodded. "Lately, that would be very unusual."
"Sad but true," I agreed.
"Were you serious about the barbecue?" Katherine asked, her long brown hair falling around her shoulders, a lock at the top pulled back with a small barrette. Kat was pretty in an old-fashioned way - with the big eyes and fresh face of a girl from a different time. She'd been born in Kansas City when the town was thick with stockyards and cattle. Her brother, Thomas, was also a member of the House.
"Aspen-stake serious. Folks have been asking for a mixer," I said, nudging Lindsey with an elbow. She snorted, then sipped orange juice from her glass.
"I'm not sure if you're aware," she said, "but I'm not up for a mixer." We all stopped and looked at her. Margot tilted her head. "Is that because you've dumped Connor, or because you're an official item?"
"Please say 'dumped,' " I murmured. "Please say 'dumped.' " This time, she elbowed me. "We are no longer an item. He's just so . . ."
"Young?" the three of us asked simultaneously.
"Sometimes," she said, "I wonder what life as a vampire would be like without all these other vampires around."
Margot stuck out her tongue at Lindsey.
"You'd miss us terribly," I reminded her. "And you'd miss Luc." She got quiet.
"I'm not responding to that," she finally said.
Margot, Katherine, and I grinned at one another, figuring that was answer enough.
Ethan was already in the Sparring Room, already in his gi pants and a white jacket belted with a purple sash. He was barefoot in the middle of the tatami, unsheathed katana in hand, sparring with an invisible opponent. He thrust the sword behind him, then turned and pulled it back, wrenched it upward, and swung it around his head. When the sword was down again, he executed a butterfly kick, legs flying parallel to the ground, the tip of the sword following, a deadly punctuation to the move. He was fast enough that speed blurred his movements, making him a haze of white and gleaming steel amidst the antique weapons and wood of the room.
He was a thing to behold, was Ethan Sullivan.
He fought alone for two or three more minutes, then came to a stop on his knees, katana raised before him. I pulled off my Cadogan T-shirt, then stood at the edge of the mat.
He lifted his verdant gaze to me, and we stood there for a moment just watching each other.
Ethan shook his head. He rose to his feet, then moved toward me. "You have an audience, Sentinel," he said by way of warning, as if there'd been a risk of my taking him right here on the Sparring Room floor.
I humphed. I'd said no to him before. I could do it again. But that didn't mean I was thrilled to be on display again. I lifted my gaze to the balcony. It wasn't as bad as an "audience" - only a dozen or so vampires in the seats - but that was a dozen more than I needed. "Awesome," I muttered. I began to slip the katana from its scabbard, but he shook his head.
"No need to unsheath it. You won't need your sword." I slid it home again, then looked at him in confusion. We were supposed to be picking up where Catcher and I left off. Since I clearly needed to work on my sparring technique, I had assumed that was where we'd pick up. Now I was just confused.
Ethan resheathed his own sword and placed it on the mat, then outstretched his hand. When I handed him my scabbard, he did the same to it. Then he stood again and tilted his head, gesturing to someone behind me. "Luc, if you please."
I hadn't realized Luc was in the room, so I turned around to say hello. But before I could find him, the lights went out - literally. The room was suddenly pitchblack.
"Ethan?"
"We're working on a different skill today," he said, his voice moving away.
I squeezed my eyes closed, hoping that would help me adjust to the darkness, then opened them again when I heard his footsteps move closer. Because I was a predator, my vision was better than it might have ordinarily been in the dark, but I still couldn't see much. That was how he caught me with a low kick that sent me sprawling across the mats.
"Sullivan! What the hell?" From my new spot on the floor, I blew the ponytail from my face and pushed up on my hands. I stood up, keeping my body bladed, my hands before me, my knees soft, in case he pounced again.
"You must learn, Sentinel, to anticipate."
I rolled my eyes. The first time I'd fought him, he'd used all the Matrix moves. Now he was working Star Wars for techniques. He really did not have an original training thought in his head.
"And how do I anticipate?" I asked him.
"We've discussed your senses having improved after you completed the change." I didn't answer. I didn't know how good his vision was, but I wasn't going to give away my position and give him another easy shot. Still, I could hear him moving around me, slinking around in a circle like a big cat preparing to attack.
"You've been working over the last week to tune out the ambient noise. To manage the increased sensitivity in your hearing, your sight, your smell. Certainly, that much awareness can be a distraction. But you are vampire. You must learn to utilize all your senses, to use that noise, that information, to your advantage."
I heard the whip of his pants as he kicked. I ducked down just as the cotton whistled over my head.
Then I heard the pat of his feet when he touched down again.
