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"Your form is improving," Ansel observed, his gaze analytical. "You're more fluid, less predictable."
"Guess I'm a fast learner," I grunted and ducked under Kylo's arm before I delivered a blow to his midsection.
"Or maybe you've always had it in you," Ansel mused. "You just needed the right motivation."
"Motivation or not," I panted, "I'll make sure Oswin regrets ever crossing paths with me."
"Good," Kylo steadied himself. "Use that certainty."
"Keep this up, and you'll be unstoppable," Ansel stood at the edge of the ring with his arms crossed.
"Unstoppable, untraceable, unbelievable," I listed between jabs. "Add whatever 'un' you want to the list."
"Unbelievably stubborn," Kylo caught my wrist and pulled me into a hold.
"Unbelievably sexy," I twisted out of his grip and landed a palm strike to his chest.
We continued sparring, the dance of combat as intimate as any tango. With each dodge, each touch, the space between Kylo and I crackled with an energy that had nothing to do with fighting.
"Break!" Ansel called out, and we parted, chests rising and falling in sync.
"I can see it, you know," Ansel walked towards us. "The confidence building. It suits you."
"Confidence, strength, a little bit of badassery," I listed off as I wiped sweat from my brow. "It's a good look on anyone."
"Especially you," Kylo murmured, and there was something in the way he looked at me that spoke of more than just admiration for my fighting skills.
"Alright, boys," I squared my shoulders. "What's next?"
"Next," Ansel’s eyes locked on mine, "we harness that fire inside you until it burns so bright, Oswin won't stand a chance."
"Oswin," Kylo whispered the name like a curse.
"Oswin," I echoed, my voice filled with the promise of retribution. "He thinks he can taunt me, leave breadcrumbs like that newspaper clipping, and get away with it?"
"Never," Ansel joined us. "We’ll bring him to justice, for your mother, for all of us."
"Justice," I mused, more to myself than to them. "Yeah, that's what they'll call it. But between you and me?" I leaned in and lowered my voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "I'm looking forward to the revenge."
"Revenge is a powerful motivator," Ansel's hand found its way to the small of my back, a gesture that sent shivers down my spine. "Use it."
Oswin Yorke won't know what hit him.
Chapter
Fifteen
The ache in my muscles was a sweet sort of torture, proof of the hours spent in Ansel's high-tech dungeon he called a training room. I flopped onto a plush couch that probably cost more than my entire existence and tried not to look as wrecked as I felt. Ansel stood across from me, his chiseled features set in a mask of concern—or was it anticipation? I couldn't tell with him, and to be honest, I didn't care the difference.
"Ready for the next step?" Ansel’s his voice was laced with a calmness that made my skin crawl. How could someone so...sterile have such an impact on the fraying threads of my sanity?
"Sure, let's add 'mind control' to the list of your many charms," I replied with a snort and eyed him warily. "Because nothing says trust like letting you mess around in my head."
Kylo shifted uneasily beside me, his protective instincts practically sparking in the air. He caught my eye with a silent question. Was I sure about this? The honest answer was no, but since when did Averill Winslow back down from an insane plan?
"Relax, Averill," Ansel's hand hovered above my arm—a touch I wasn't sure I wanted. "I'm only going to guide you. You're in control."
"Right," I muttered, "said every control freak ever."
