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Authors: Leigh Morgan

BOOK: Sparring Partners
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Her gaze flashed to Finn. She willed her
eyes to soften but it did no good. They were already frozen. Heaven
help her when they thawed. She'd felt that pain before.

Bewitchment.

Betrayal.

Brutality ravishing her soul. A soul she
thought so estranged from her heart that it was untouchable.

Thank the Gods she was still numb. She
looked away and her eyes landed on her mug. The squished bug stared
lifelessly at her, its last expression one of empathy for a kindred
soul. Reed laughed once. A hollow, biting sound that left her empty
and hurt the back of her throat.

Reed turned, not trusting herself to make
eye contact with either of them. There was only one place she could
go when life's karmic chaos threatened to overwhelm her.

"I'm going to the dojo. I'm late for
weapons. I won't be home tonight."

Reed had no idea what she was going to do
after class, she only knew her home, her refuge, had been invaded
by a lying pirate who gained some perverse enjoyment by turning her
life inside out.

Been there. Done that. Still have the hole
in my heart.

Reed made it all the way to the car before
she felt the dampness burning like rivers of acid down her cheeks.
Angrily brushing the trail of tears from her face, she put her bug
in gear. There were concrete trucks and graders everywhere. One
moved where she wanted to be and Reed flipped him off. She hadn't
done that since she was Jesse's age. Embarrassed and angry at her
juvenile response, she yanked on the steering wheel and accelerated
at a more moderate speed around the truck. She ignored the brief
flash of satisfaction at the sight in her rearview mirror of gravel
splashing up the side of the truck.

Sometimes the joy from small victories made
all the difference.

Sometimes she needed to break out the
hardwood and tempered steel and bash.

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

 

 

The clash of steel against steel rang out,
tempered only by the sweating bodies absorbing some of the sound.
The air was warm, not quite hot, in the air-conditioned expanse of
space that constituted the dojo floor. Even with the fans and the
air on, the open room with floor to ceiling mirrors on the length
of one long wall and Okinawan symbols on the other seemed stifling.
But then, Reed was burning with more than physical exertion, so who
was she to judge.

She hit Shay's left sai with her right
trying to land an angle strike to his temple. It was his job to
block, which he did, but the effort was starting to cost him. The
tendons of his neck and forearms, visible as his gi parted, were
clearly strained. Her muscles were burning too, but it felt good,
powerful even. The pull and pulse of her muscles as she moved, the
extension of the weapon in her hand, like an extension of self,
this she could control. At this moment she was master of her fate.
Reed reveled in every millisecond.

And then the gong rang.

"Line up." And just like that, class was
over.

Shay elbowed her in the ribs as they stood
in line listening to Sensei reading the week's announcements.
"What's up with the hard-ass routine? Trouble in paradise?"

Reed's face flamed in irritation. Shay knew
her well enough to know exactly what was wrong, and after their
tense workout yesterday she didn't need him rubbing her face in her
stupidity today. Had it only been a day since the glimmer of hope
spontaneously combusted into ash at her feet with Finn's
revelation?

"Dismissed."

The class echoed, "Thank you, Sensei."

"Not you, Mohr. I want to see you."

Reed ignored Shay's slyly whispered, "uh-oh.
You're in for it now grasshopper." She couldn't ignore the sudden
weight in her stomach bouncing like a beach ball. The rest of class
bowed out and cleared the floor in favor of the showers downstairs.
Reed waited. Sensei Schwartz disappeared into the back office that
contained his personal weapons. The front office only held weapons
and other equipment for sale, and was reserved for paying customers
and guests. The back office was where Sensei kept his magic hidden
from his students.

He emerged carrying two weapons Reed hadn't
seen before. They had an axe handle with a curved wickedly sharp
shovel edge on one side about six inches wide and a flat mallet end
on the other about three inches in diameter. Sensei handed one to
her without a word. Reed reached out with one hand to grab it,
noticing Sensei's indulgent smile. When it threatened to take her
arm out of its socket, she quickly grabbed it with both hands,
understanding his mirth.

Sensei adjusted her hands on the handle so
she was holding it correctly, picked up his weapon, and began to
work with it. Reed followed his series of movements without
question, as she did whenever Sensei taught her kata. The series of
moves, like dance steps with intent to maim, kill or disarm. It
didn't require question. It required doing.

For the next hour she worked the kata with
punishing precision. Her shoulders ached and her lats burned. She
became acutely aware of the fine muscles in her forearms and around
her hips as she moved. Even her shins hurt. The muscles and tendons
of her neck were pulsing with life and striving not to shake with
the toll of physical exertion this Neanderthal weapon demanded.

Just when she thought she couldn't lift the
damn thing again Sensei stopped her. "Ma-te." He said, meaning
stop. It hurt almost as much to stop as it did to continue.

"Tell me what you've learned."

"That every muscle in the body really can
hurt at the same time."

Sensei gave a small laugh and a broad smile
that came from shared experience. "True. Wait 'till tomorrow when
you try to get out of bed."

Reed already knew no amount of bubble bath
was going to wash away her pain. If only it could. Sensei reached
to take the mallet/shovel from her and Reed had to force her hands
to uncurl from its handle. An hour in the shower should loosen her
up enough to get dressed.

Sensei whirled the weapon around with his
right arm, then added his left for momentum. It sang as it rent the
air around them. He then switched directions, first mallet side,
then shovel side.

"There are always at least two paths. One is
to beat and force your way..." The mallet side swung in a perfectly
controlled arc toward the ground. "The other is to dig your way
out." The shovel side whirled as it passed Sensei's ankle and came
to rest on his shoulder. He wasn't even winded. Not fair,
considering he was twenty years older than Reed and was missing
half a lung.

"You saw something in the man you married.
On some level your soul saw his and without thought you chose to
bond with it. You're not a thoughtless person, Reed. You
over-analyze every aspect of your life. This time you didn't. Trust
your higher self. It's probably the purest decision you've made
since you walked away from your job."

Sensei swung the weapon again. "But what do
I know? Sometimes a hammer's just a hammer."

 

...

 

The sound of heavy machinery preparing the
base for the concrete driveway was driving Jordon mad. Not that he
didn't have enough other reasons for his explosive temper that he
was barely keeping in check, most of which were easy enough to
confront if he looked in the mirror. The glimpse of his scowling
mug and red-rimmed eyes in the tiny mirror above the hardwood table
in the foyer as Reed left this morning was enough to start the slow
agonizing beat of a headache at the base of his skull.

Finn took one look at him and left. Thank
God for small favors. At least he wouldn't have to add family
murder to his list of offenses against Reed. What irked him even
more than the fact that Finn told Reed the way she did, like it was
ludicrous to believe Jordon would willingly marry Reed, was the
fact that Finn was right. He should have told Reed from the start
what the score was. Life would have been simpler that way.

Why didn't he? Jordon looked in the mirror
again, not liking what he saw there any better now. "Because you're
an ass, that's why. An ass who has no reason to hope for more."

"Wow. I haven't been called that in a long
time."

Jordon whipped his head around and saw Jesse
standing on the steps behind him, a small, indulgent teenage smile
on his still sleepy face. "I wasn't talking to you."

Jesse cocked his head at him sending still
wet locks of his curling hair down one side of his forehead. He
really was a good looking kid, even wet. There was something
world-weary yet hopeful about him that made Jordon want to give him
a hug and a manly slap on the back at the same time. The kid did a
formidable job occupying two disparate worlds at the same time.
Jordon envied his adaptability.

"Who were you talking to?"

"That jackass in the mirror."

Jesse nodding understandingly. "Pissed Reed
off again, huh?"

"Yep."

"She'll get over it. She always does."

"How long does it usually take?"

Jesse shrugged and skirted past Jordon. His
stomach growled audibly so Jordon guessed the kid was hungry.
Jordon was always hungry at Jesse's age. "Depends."

Jordon followed Jesse to the kitchen and
watched him pour himself a bowl of twigs from a recycled cardboard
box. "How can you eat that crap?" Jordon asked.

"You learn to like it." Jesse said shoveling
in a big scoop.

It sounded to Jordon like the kid was
chewing gravel. Jordon shook his head and reached for his phone. He
sent Henry a quick text and grabbed Jessed by the arm, pulling him
toward the back door where he parked his Prius the night before.
Jesse stumbled, but managed to put what was left of his bowl of
twigs in the sink. Jordon made a sardonic sound in the back of his
throat.

The kid knew enough not to piss off the elf
and the pirate.

If only
he'd
thought that far
ahead.

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

 

 

"I-Hop is not where I expected to find you."
Henry said, sliding into the booth next to Jesse while eyeing the
enormous mound of pancakes the kid was attempting to cut
through.

Jordon took a long swallow from his fifth
cup of coffee. "The kid's gotta eat real food sometime."

Henry shot him a questioning look but didn't
say anything. The waitress came and he ordered eggs over easy,
wheat toast, hash browns, tomato juice and coffee. "Bring another
pot for my friend here. He doesn't look wired enough." Henry said,
tossing the waitress his 'James Bond' smile that every female
twelve to ninety-nine lapped up like gravy on Thanksgiving.

Jesse stared open-mouthed at the sensuous
sway of the waitress's hips as she sauntered provocatively away.
"You've gotta show me how to do that."

Henry ruffled Jesse's hair, smiling
wolfishly. "There'll be time enough for that, puppy. Wait a
year."

"Why?"

He sounded so forlorn Jordon couldn't help
but laugh. The simple act eased some of the tension in his gut.
Jordon pushed his coffee cup away and grabbed the water on the
table in front of him. Henry was right, he was wired enough.

"Something tells me we're not at a pancake
house to help you become a budding Lothario, sport. One of you want
to tell me why we're here?"

When Jesse determined he wasn't going to get
any lessons in the fine art of male flirting, he directed his
attention to the remainder of his mountain of syrup laden
breakfast, shoveling in enormous bite after bite as if he'd never
eaten useless calories covered in sugar before. He doused the last
fork-full with an extra dose of syrup and spoke through a mouthful
of goo.

"Jordon's bribing me with pancakes so I'll
spill all of Reed's secrets."

"Is it working?" Henry asked.

"Not so far." Jordon said, irritated with
how quickly the kid saw through him.

Henry elbowed Jesse in the ribs playfully.
"Ever since he met Reed he's been off his game."

Jesse wiped his mouth with his napkin and
downed half of his water in one long swallow. When his eyes met
Jordon's, they were open and honest. "I'll tell you what you want
to know so long as it doesn't hurt Reed. But no secrets."

Jordon nodded. "Agreed."

"But..." The devilish look in Jesse's eye
told Jordon he wasn't getting away with three dollars worth of
pancakes. "Henry shows me how to do that thing with the waitress
first."

The sparkle in Jesse's eyes and the small
teasing smile curving his mouth full of perfect teeth made Jordon
smile. The kid really had no conception of just how attractive he
was going to be to the opposite sex.

"You already have all the raw elements. All
you need is the confidence to pull it off. That can't be taught,
kid. It takes time and experience."

Jesse seemed to accept that as answer
enough. "What do you want to know?"

"Let's start with how long Reed's going to
stay mad at me. Then we can move on to how I can speed up the
healing process."

"I don't know that I can tell you that."

"Why? That can't possibly be a secret."

"No, it's not a secret. It's just that
Reed's never been really pissed at me. Not like what you said she
is at you."

Jordon narrowed his eyes, stopping himself
from grinding his teeth. His jaw hurt enough already, so did most
of his teeth. Gnawing on a fistful of aspirin hadn't helped the
pain. "Are you telling me Reed's never been mad at you?"

"Mad, yeah. Really pissed, no."

Jordon closed his eyes and rubbed his brow,
trying to dam up the sound of water in his ears before it became a
roar he couldn't control. Henry must have felt Jordon's
frustration, because he touched Jordon's arm briefly.

Then the food arrived on three separate
plates. Jordon opened his eyes in time to see Jesse flash the young
waitress his imitation of Henry's smile. The kid was good. The
waitress actually winked back at him as she took his empty plate.
"Quite an appetite you've got there, sweetie."

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