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“Oh, I have all sorts of fancy things to teach you,” I warn him.
“Oh, Malice, you can teach me anything you like. I’ll be your willing victim.”
I throw a punch, which he ducks to avoid, but I catch him with a left uppercut.
“I don’t want a victim, Blink.” I jump and do a roundhouse kick, knocking him back a step.
“I like it when they fight back.”
He feints to the left, and I move to counter it, but it’s a double fake-out, and the bastard manages to get his hands on me, flipping me onto my back. But before he can pin me, I kick up into his solar plexus and yank his arm down as I roll, pulling him off his feet.
By the time the move has registered, I’m back on my feet on the other side of the ring.
I don’t know how long we spar, but I’m aware we’re drawing a crowd. A whispered comment, asking who the pussy is, ironically breaks Blink’s concentration, leaving him open.
I attack before he can protect himself. I have him on his back with my legs wrapped around his neck in a classic choke hold that lets me see down the length of his body. He struggles, but I hold on and squeeze my thighs tighter.
I almost lose concentration when I see his dick twitch, but I hold on until he taps out. I roll back to lie beside him, breathing heavily and dripping with sweat.
“Seriously, who is that?” someone in the crowd asks.
“That, gentlemen, is a ghost. Welcome home, Malice.”
I lift my head, my eyes clashing with a set of bright blue ones.
“Vega.”
