“Aimee-Senseiis…what?” Her voice carried easily through the amphitheater.
Shinka’s mouth fell open. He scrambled back against the step as the other children around him dropped their gazes in quick bows of respect.
Aimee narrowed her eyes, letting the silence stretch as she played the part. Discipline here was severe, almost ritual. It was entirely different from the rowdy soldiers she had once trained—or thought she once had…
Pushing aside the half-formed thought, her expression cracked. And she hooked an arm around the boy’s neck, pulling him close to grind her knuckles into his hair.
“Owwww!” Shinka wailed, squirming in her grip, his hands flailing as he tried to pry her fingers away. “Stop it!”
Aimee held on a moment longer, letting him wriggle, as the other children worked not to laugh. Then she sighed, finally releasing him with a shove that sent him tumbling back into his seat.
“Show your classmates some respect, squirt.” She pursed her lips, then turned her back on him, striding toward the center where Kazuma waited.
He raised an eyebrow at her, the corner of his mouth quirking.
Aimee shrugged, spinning on her heel to face the rows of students again. “You ready to see it faster?”
“Yes! Show us, Sensei!” voices chorused back.
Smothering the laugh when she realized it was the older boy now on his feet, she looked to Kazuma. “I think they just want to see me throw you across the stadium.”
His eyes tracked down her frame and back up again, slow and deliberate. “So long as you help me back up again.”
Heat rushed up her throat at the way he said it, her belly constricting before she could form words. “What?!” The stammer broke free, betraying her.You’re so annoying.
His grin only widened.
She didn’t have time to dwell on whether he had heard her thoughts before he stepped back. A slow shrug lifted one shoulder as he flowedinto stance with one hand extended toward her, palm up, fingers curling—daring her forward.
Come and get me, pet.
The words barely touched her thoughts, half-imagined, fragments slipping between body language.
She sank low as one leg slid long in front of her and her arms unfurled in mirrored lines.
Finally.Her heart beat louder in her ears.
The Grannies had finally cleared him for full-contact training after months of recovery from the Serpent’s bite. Apparently, all the manual chores and water replenishments had been part of his recovery plan.
But now…now she’d see what he could do.
“Begin,” came Mira’s voice from the top of the amphitheater, where men and women of the Watch now filtered in, taking places among the children to observe.
Aimee and Kazuma began to circle, sand whispering underfoot. His steps landed soundlessly, weight gliding from heel to toe, while the line of his body stayed coiled and ready.
She mirrored him, sliding her back foot wide, arms balanced.
Kazuma feinted high, fist angling toward her shoulder. She slipped under, pivoting, her elbow flashing toward his ribs—only to meet the meat of his forearm blocking her off. He pressed forward, testing her stance, forcing her to give a step.
He was fast.
She bared her teeth in a grin and lunged back, palm cutting up toward his chin this time. But he deflected again, turning away, dark hair whipping past her cheek.
Her lungs locked.
Gold flashed behind his eyes—no—not his eyes at all. But something buried deeper, surfacing for the briefest instant before it vanished.
She squeezed her eyes closed, her stance wavering.
