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Her cousin, Maksim Petrov, is also in this class, which is why Jace decided to tag along as well. The promise of brutal revenge rolls off Jace’s shoulders as he stalks forward, cutting off Maksim’s path to Alina.
I leave them to their own schemes as I stride through the group of stunned students with my gaze locked on Isabella.
“First Eli interrupts my class to spar with that bloody lunatic Raina,” Mr. Hansen mutters under his breath, not realizing that I can still hear him. “And now the whole lot of them have come to do the same bloody thing. Damn entitled children.”
Since I have more important matters to deal with right now, and since I do understand his frustration, I let his muttering slide and instead continue across the room.
“Alright, that’s enough dawdling,” Mr. Hansen barks at his students. “Get back to work, the lot of you.”
The room lurches back into motion. Within seconds, the sound of punches and kicks striking flesh once more echoes between the gray concrete walls as the rest of them go back to their sparring practice.
“I didn’t realize that your skills in hand-to-hand combat were so bad that you needed to take lessons with the first-years,” Isabella says as I come to a halt in front of her. Then she blinks, as if belatedly remembering that she is supposed to act meek and obedient around me. Clearing her throat, she quickly adds, “I’m sorry. I forget myself.”
“No, you didn’t.” I flash her a sharp smile. “Quite the opposite. You finally showed yourself.”
She throws her arms out in a show of exasperation. “Look, I don’t know what it is that you want from me. But whatever it is, just tell me so that I can do it and then you can leave me alone.”
“You know exactly what I want from you.”
“No, I don’t kn—”
I slam my fist straight towards her cheek.
She yanks up her left arm, blocking the strike perfectly, while throwing an expert retaliation punch towards my throat.
I leap back, barely managing to avoid it.
For a moment, we just stare at each other from across the padded mat.
Then a grin spreads across my lips.
You can fake a lot of things, which I know from experience. But it’s very difficult to suppress reflexes that your body has spent years developing.
Even from two steps away, I swear I can hear Isabella’s heart thumping in her chest. Can hear her cursing herself in her own head. She knows what a reflex like that means. And she knows that I know what it means.
I lunge at her again.
This time, she’s much slower in blocking, and I manage to get in two strikes to her ribs. She winces even though I’m pulling my punches, which leads me to believe that she is faking those reactions too.
For quite a while, we spar there at the back of the room. I keep pushing her away from the others. Keep trying to surprise her with quick kicks and fast punches so that she will reveal more of those instincts. But she doesn’t slip up again. After that first instinctive block, she fights like a mediocre first-year. It annoys the fuck out of me.
I feint a hit towards her side and instead crouch down, drawing my foot along the floor and taking her legs out from underneath her. She crashes down back first on the padded mat and blinks as if disoriented.
Dropping down as well, I straddle her body and settle my weight on her hips. A very convincing look of fear, that I don’t believe for a second, shines on her features as I raise my fist as if to hit her. She yanks her hand out to the side, frantically tapping out and surrendering.
Irritation burns through me. Fucking hell, Iknowthat it’s her. I know that she’s just pretending. What the hell do I have to do to make her reveal it?
“Please,” she begs, flicking a desperate glance between me and the fist I still have raised.
A harsh laugh rips from my throat, but I lower my hand. “You really are a great actress, aren’t you?”
“I don’t know what you mean.” She stares up at me with pleading eyes. “Please. I’m sorry for crashing into you that day outside the pool. Just tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it.”
“Stop pretending. I know who you are. And you know who I am.”
“Of course I know who you are. Everyone knows who you are.”
“Say it.”
