Chapter Four
I step out into the hall, careful to close the door behind me, and head back to the stairs. If the second and third floors are only bedrooms for the residents, then everything of importance must be on the very first floor.
When I reach the end of the stairs, I notice that there are a bunch of people wandering around in little groups, probably killing time until dinner. I think about asking one for directions, but I don’t want to seem like a helpless dork that gets lost in a house.
Sure, it was a really, really, really large house, but it wasn’t like it was the white house or anything. So, I keep my head down, and start walking in the opposite direction as the others. They’re probably all heading down to the dining room, and I don’t want to eat just yet.
Maybe while they’re all eating, I’ll be able to get a glimpse of the rest of the place. The halls won’t be as crowded, and nobody will gawk at me, the obvious newbie. I’ve always been a bit of a private person, and I enjoy being left alone.
So I keep walking, peeking into rooms as I pass them. It seems that down this way are a dozen or so rooms that almost resemble classrooms. There is a whiteboard in each one and several tables with chairs. What do they teach here? Throat Ripping 101? Hypnotizing Your Prey for Your Convenience?
I shudder involuntarily at the thought of sitting in a chair and learning how to be a vampire. Did they bring in live victims for us to practice on? Or did we go on fieldtrips to the city and practice picking our victims?
After the last classroom in the hall, I come to a large set of double doors. I can hear excited noises and thumps from inside. It sounds like people fighting, and I remember what Jillian told me about the Protectors. Was this the gym where they trained?
I push the doors open, eager to get a glimpse of the Protectors. I’m standing in the doorway to the gym and, for the first time since waking up, I’m actually a little excited.
I can’t wait to challenge one of these guys to a fight.
The gymnasium is on the first floor of the mansion, and it takes up a vast majority of the space along with the boy’s and girl’s locker rooms. The door at the far side leads to the infirmary, which takes up a lot of space as well. The two are probably connected because of training accidents.
The gymnasium, locker rooms, and infirmary take up half of the first floor.
There are mats spread out over the floor and, in the very far left corner, people are practicing different wrestling grips. There are a few men that are standing around watching, but most are training in some way or other.
There’s boxing equipment in another corner, along with jump ropes, treadmills, and weights. It looks like a more expensive and slightly grittier version of all the gyms I’ve been in before. There are dozens of shirtless, muscular, and sweating guys, but no women.
Is there a different gym for women? I wonder as I step into the gym. I’m tempted to ask if I can join in, but I’m not sure how. Plus, I don’t really feel like getting into trouble my first hour awake.
A hand clamps down on my shoulder and I spin, gripping the wrist. Digging my nails into a tender spot on the underside of his wrist, I twist sharply, and sweep a thick pair of legs out from under a man dressed in sweats.
He goes down, but quickly brings his leg out in a wide arc, slamming his heel into my hip, sending me down to one knee. I drop his wrist and somersault away, before getting to my feet and spinning to face him. I’m crouched down in a defensive stance, trying to give myself enough time to size up my opponent.
He’s tall, with broad shoulders and heavily muscled limbs. His eyes are dark and serious; he’s sizing me up just like I’m doing to him. Someone begins to clap, and he visibly relaxes, bringing his hands down to his sides. He looks over, and I follow his gaze.
A man is walking over with an impressed smile on his face. He looks about twenty-five, and his hair is shaggy and jet black. As I’m watching, he shakes is out of his light brown eyes. His skin is a dark tan color; he looks like he may have Spanish heritage, but I’m not sure. He stops a few feet away and looks me up and down once, not in a creepy way, more like he’s assessing my strength.
“Who might you be?” He asks, and I slowly start to relax. I was right about his heritage; he speaks with a bit of an accent that might be Spanish. “That was pretty impressive for a young woman of your size.”
“My name’s Kylie Redding.”
He extends his hand, and I shake it. “Carlos Hensley.”
Hensley doesn’t sound very Spanish, but Carlos definitely does.
“You’ve been trained in martial arts.”
It’s not a question, but I nod anyways. “Yes. My father thought that all women should know how to defend themselves. When he died, I took it a few steps further, and learned how to protect others, not just myself.”
Carlos nods his head, and I can tell he’s thinking about something. “What brought you down here?”
“I just woke up a little while ago. Jillian told me about the Protectors, and I was interested. I want to be one.”
Surprisingly, several of the young men in the gymnasium start to laugh. Carlos raises his hand, and they instantly fall silent, though I can tell they’re still amused.
“Women can’t be Protectors.”
“Why not?” I ask, surprised. “I can take care of myself and anyone else who needs me. Why shouldn’t I be allowed to help?”
Carlos shrugs. “That’s just the way things have been done for many years. Our charges feel more comfortable with a heavily muscled man protecting them than a smaller woman. You may very well be suited for being a Protector, but nobody will see that when they look at you.”
“So just because I’m not six and a half feet tall, and a man, I can’t help people? Even if I can manage to beat one of your men?”
“You didn’t beat me,” he growls angrily. I look at him, and he takes a step forward. “No little girl can win against me in a fight.”
“Wanna bet?” I ask, taking a step forward, too. “I’m not scared of you; I’ve taken on guys your size before, and won.”
Carlos is watching us both. His lips are tilted up in the barest of smiles, and I instinctively know that he’s planning something. But what, I’m not sure. When he claps his hands once, everyone looks at him, waiting to hear what he has to say.
“Kaven, get the practice gear out. I wanna see just how talented this young lady is.”
“But Carlos–”
“Just do it,” he snaps. When he looks back to me, he doesn’t look angry, just exasperated. “Sorry about that. What I’m about to do is considered very…unusual.”
“What are you about to do?” I ask, getting a sinking feeling in my stomach.
“I’m about to test you. You say you wanna be a Protector, well, what better way to test your ability than to fight a fully-fledged one?”
“I’m gonna fight you?”
He nods once, and waves me farther into the gymnasium. “Kaven will get you the equipment you’ll need. If you have any questions about how to dress yourself, just ask.”
Some of the younger men are snickering, but there are a couple of older ones that are just watching me with interested looks on their faces. I wonder if they’re just interested in watching me lose, or if they’re trying to see if I might have what it takes to join their ranks.
A young man comes back with a bundle of equipment in his hands, and he nods me over to the far side of the gym. He’s just under six feet in height, and he’s heavily muscled from rigorous intensive workouts. His skin is a natural tan, and his hair is a dark blonde color.
When he hands me the bundle of equipment, I notice that his eyes are a beautiful, dark green color. When his hands are free, he rubs his hands over his face, and I hear the scratching of unshaved bristles. He’s classically handsome, almost like an ancient Greek god, and I wonder if that has something to do with the Greek goddess they all worship.
“Are you Kaven?” I ask, searching through the bundle in
my arms.
“Yeah,” he says in a deep voice, but I can tell he doesn’t want to talk to me.
“Got any advice for me?” I’m smiling, trying to be friendly, which just seems to anger him.
“Yeah, try not to get killed.”
With that, he turns and walks away, leaving me standing there, trying to ignore the excited whispers of the Protectors around the gym. They’re anxious for the fight, probably so they can make fun of me after I lose to Carlos.
“Don’t worry about them.”
I spin around, almost dropping some of the equipment in my arms. Carlos steadies me, and smiles. His smile isn’t mocking, or overly-confident. It’s just a smile, and for some reason that makes me instantly like him.
“Don’t worry; I’ve been training Protectors for quite a few years. I know how to stop before actually hurting someone. If you get tired and slow, I’ll notice.”
“I’m not worried about that, I’m worried about fighting in front of others. I don’t usually have an audience. The only time anyone’s seen me fight was like yesterday when I beat the crap out of a girl at school.”
He raises an eyebrow but doesn’t ask, and I look down sheepishly.
“She provoked me, several times.”
“Alright, get dressed, and we’ll see just how suited you are for Protection Detail.”
I take the bundle of equipment into the girl’s locker room, close the door, and start to get ready.
The equipment in my arms is pretty standard practice gear: mouth guard, a thin chest guard that straps on over my shoulders, and a matching head guard that fits like a helmet.
I pull the equipment on with shaking hands; I’ve never been this nervous for a fight. But I’ve never fought a vampire before. He could probably kill me without me knowing it.
There’s a knock on the door. “Yeah?”
The door opens, and Kaven walks back in. He takes a seat on the ground beside me and takes one of my hands. He starts to wrap it for protection during the fight.
“I’m gonna lose, aren’t I?”
He nods. “Yeah. Carlos teaches for a reason; he’s the best there is. Put your mouth guard in, and remember to be cautious.”
“Oh, now you wanna be nice and give me some helpful advice?”
He lifts his eyes to mine, and I notice that they’re not as hostile as before. They’re just bored. “I honestly don’t care what happens to you, because you’re not my responsibility, but I’d hate to have to stop training while they clean your blood out of the gym.”
I try not to show how badly that freaks me out, and focus on his rough, calloused hands that are just about finished with the tape. When he’s done, he cleans up the packaging, and gets to his feet. “Alright, let’s go. He’s waiting.”
I follow Kaven back out to the gymnasium, and find everyone standing around, waiting for the fight. There are a lot more people than before, though. It seems that in the last ten minutes, word about my fight with Carlos has spread to the rest of the place, and everyone’s come to watch.
I can see Jillian standing beside Carlos, and it looks like they’re arguing about something. Maybe she’s worried about me. That thought makes me strangely happy, and I smile because for once in my life, someone other than Tara might actually be starting to care about me.
Carlos shakes off Jillian’s hand, and walks toward me. He stops a ways away, and I head over to join him. He smiles when he sees me, and I don’t feel as nervous about the fight as I did a few minutes ago. He’s a teacher; he’s not a killer.
We tap hands gently, and I back slowly away before bracing myself. He does the same, and someone shouts, “Begin!”
Carlos lunges in, almost faster than my eyes can catch, and he swings for my head. Instead of jumping out of the way, I bring my hand up, blocking his swing with my forearm. I swing it down, knocking his hand away from my face.
He counters quickly with a snap kick to my leg, and my thigh burns in pain. I ram my shoulder into his chest, forcing him to back away while I massage my thigh, trying to un-cramp it. He circles me, looking for an opening to end this fight.
I begin watching his chest and waist, searching for the slightest movement that will give away his next attack. Sure enough, one of his muscles twitch in preparation for the punch, and I duck, coming up under the swing, and I spin, ramming my elbow down into his stomach.
He wheezes, but doesn’t back away. Instead, he grabs my arm, and throws me to the ground with the intensity and strength of a man that is definitely not human. He jumps, preparing to bring his knee down on my stomach, and I roll away.
His knee slams into the mat, and I hear him curse lightly. I’m on my feet in an instant, but so is he. Before I can even react, he’s behind me, and his forearm is braced across my throat. He applies pressure and, instead of trying to dislodge him, I stomp on his foot as hard as possible while I simultaneously bring my elbow back into his face.
His arm loosens, and I break away, circling him, looking for an opening. He’s catching his breath, and I take a quick second to use the back of my hand to wipe sweat from my face. He uses that second and lunges in, using his leg to take my feet out from under me.
I go down hard on the mat, and the air is knocked painfully from my lungs. Carlos isn’t finished though. He kneels down beside me, using his knee to crush my windpipe. Frantically, I try to dislodge him, but he refuses to budge.
After a few seconds, I notice black spots in my vision, and I know I’m fading fast. Finally, when I have no other options, I tap him twice, signaling the end of the fight.
He moves away, and I gasp for air like a fish out of water. My arms are trembling, and my entire body is soaked in sweat, but I’m too tired to do anything but lie there and breathe.
Someone moves forward to help me to my feet, and I’m relieved to see that it’s Jillian, and not one of the Protectors. They’re probably too busy laughing at my loss to bother helping me. “You did very well, Kylie.”
“I lost,” I tell her. “I could have done better.”
“And you will,” Carlos says. “With a little training, I think you’ll make a fine Protector.”
That silences everyone in the gymnasium, and they all start watching me. “What?”
“I’ve decided that perhaps it’s time for things to change. I can’t promise you that you’ll be a Protector, because that is up to our Goddess, but I can promise you the chance to train with me. I think you’ll make a fine warrior for someone.”
“I can train?”
He nods. “Yes, you can. I’ll have Jillian set something up. Normally the girls here take a basic self defense course during the afternoon, so you’ll have to give that up, but I think we can make this work. I can honestly say I’ll be proud to teach you.”
He offers me his hand, and I gratefully take it. “Thank you,” I half whisper, too overwhelmed to say much else.
He nods again. “Alright, there are showers in the girl’s locker room over there. Why don’t you head in and get freshened up while Jillian and I start figuring this out.”
I nod, and start to walk over to the girl’s locker room. My hair is sweaty and plastered to the back of my neck, and I can feel it building up inside the helmet. With trembling hands I take it off and shake out my hair.
Someone gasps, and I swing my head to look around for them. Is there someone that didn’t believe I was a girl? I mean, my breasts aren’t large or anything, but they are there.
I find the person who gasped, and my heart stops. The helmet drops from my hands and clatters loudly against the ground, and several pairs of eyes fix on me instantly. Carlos and Jillian are both watching me as well, but I barely notice.
Jillian hesitantly puts her hand on my shoulder, but I shake her off and take a few steps forward. Toward the girl.
The girl is my age, and a couple of inches shorter. Her hair is short, curly, and light brown. It frames her slightly round face, and is forever falling into her blue-gray eyes. Her chin is stubborn,
and her nose is curved, giving her a dainty look.
But it’s those eyes that hold me the most. They’re staring at me with familiar wonder and amazement, and I’m captivated by them. For a second, I’m struck dumb, unable to speak. But then I find the only word I need.
“Tara?”