In Between Seasons (The Fall) (14 page)

“Yeah, right,” I answered with a laugh.

“Then show me some moves,” he ordered,
raising his eyebrows
. I raised my hands
and
started swaying my hips to the music.

He smiled as I let my hands fall to his shoulders
and
he began to sway in time with me.

“You can dance too?”
I asked.

“I thought it might
be a useful skill for finesse,” he joked.

“That’s ridiculous,
”
I choked at the comment.

“It’
s a useful tool
for taking your mind off things,” he observed,
his eyes sparkling.

“
M
hmm
,” I turned my body and
looked over my shoulder,
“Do you think
it’s
working?”

He pulled at my hips
,
so I turned
back around to face him
,
“You’re smiling aren’t you?”

“Thank you
for always knowing what to say,
”
I sighed
.

“The feeling is mutual,” he replied,
his eyes smoldering into mine.

“Will you be training
me under the moonlight
today
?” I asked
,
nodding over my shoulder to the darkening day.
The thought of spending all night with him after this made me almost lose my train of thought.

“
I saw you watching me the other day—did you learn a
nything from observing?” h
e asked
,
spinning me around.

“I
don’t know how you block moves
when you’re not even
watching your opponent,
” I replied
,
shaking my head
and
watching a brash smile come to his face.

“It’s
all
about knowing your
opponent
Andy
, he’s a kicker—that’s what he’s good at
,
so
that’s what he relies on when he fights. He may be good at
it
,
but
it makes him predictable to fight. When you’re fighting someone yo
u need to analyze them as you’re making your own moves
. Body type seems to have a lot to
do with what a person favors,” h
e
explained
,
“Balanced proportions—
”

“Like yours?
” I interjected with a smirk.

“Yes, make it hard to really see someone’s weakness
es
,
but
by observing them as
t
hey fight you,” he dipped
me to the ground,
“You can fig
ure out the way to get them into submission
.”

“For example?”

“If someone kicks you
,
and
they start to lose balance you can learn two things, one they won’t be kicking you too much
and
two when they do it’s your best chance to
critically injure them,
”
Hunter pulled me back up into his chest tightly.

I tried to concentrate on what he was telling me
as
his breath washed over my bare neck,
“What do you mean by critically injure them?”
I managed to ask.

“Injure them so they can’t fight back any
more,” he answered,
his face seeming to strain
at the thought.

“Do you teach all of your hunters
and
trackers the same thing?”

He shook his head,
“It’s all about strength
and
over powering
your opponent with them. Your training is
about
little effort
and
maximum results.”

“Wouldn’t they need to know this?”
I asked
.

“Guys just like to kick the crap
out of each othe
r—do you think they would
listen to me preaching about observation
and
finesse?”

“Alright, I see you’re point—but ma
ybe I just want to kick the crap
out of someone
too
?”

“Please demonstrate,
”
he remarked,
putting his hands up.

I lifted my leg at a speed I thought he
wouldn’t be able to grab,
but
somehow he still did. H
e pulled me into him
.

“See,” h
e said into my ear.

I wrapped my leg around his waist
and
then slipped it down t
o his knees making them cave. We both
crumble
d
to the ground.

“See, I have moves too,
”
I commented.

He looked down
at me
,
his bodying crushing into mine
as
our legs tangled together,
“Unless you’re
trying to sedu
ce your
opponent I don’t think that would really work all that well.”

“You could be right,” I replied with a smirk
.

He rolled his eyes
and
slid to the side
of me.

“You
’re going to be the death of me,” h
e said
,
looking up at the ceiling
with
his face red.

“Why is that?”
I asked
leaning on my elbow.

Say it, Say it. I thought to
myself. I wanted him to say he had feelings for me
and
it made the room spin.
To say that his feelings
made it hard to concentrate
,
but
maybe that was only my truth.

“
You already know,” he replied as he sat
up
, and
the
color rushed
out of his face as quick as it had come there
,
“You hungry?”

The empty feeling returned to my stomach.

“Sure,” I replied
standing
and
heading for the door.
I couldn’t hide the fact that his answer wasn’t what I had wanted, and I needed to leave before he saw it too.

“Kate, what’s wrong?”

I looked over my shoulder at him standing with his hands behind his head. His eyes moved back
and
forth as they sea
rched my face.
His lips remained
in a confused line, and I wanted to explain it to him, but the fear was just too strong. What made me madder was the fact that he had to know. How could he not see it?

“Kate?”
he repeated, and his face showed the stress of waiting for an answer.

“You already know,
” I retorted
,
leaving him standing in the room
wondering what I meant
,
or
knowing
,
but
not being willing enough to say it. I had been a fo
ol with those that were my
own blood
and
maybe I was being a fool with my heart.

The trouble with being mad at Hunter was that I really couldn’t be. He hadn’t purposely done anything wrong, and even if he had he was probably right about what he was doing. Even if his motives seemed foggy to me he was usually right in his reasoning. I just couldn’t stay mad at him especially after a day of reading Jane Austen.
I heard the com
motion outside the window of our
kitchen
and
looked down to see
that
t
he men were flooding out of the woods
.
They were pushing
and
joking around wi
th one another
,
glad
to be out of Hunt
er’s intense training sessions
, but
I was looking forward to one under the coming moon.
I took a deep breath
and
prepared myself for the negative pull of the common room.

“There you are,” Mara moved
over on the couch, “I was curious to see if you would join us at all today. I’m starting to think you don’t like us.”

“I just got cau
ght up in a book, sorry
” I answered
shrugging
and
taking the seat she offered.
I really didn’t enjoy being around them, but I tried to keep the expression off of my face.

“Th
e men are playing poker tonight,” Mara nodded
over her shoulder,
“I bet most of us could kick their asses at it though.”

“Right,” I replied,
trying to keep the stupid, what the hell is poker look off my fac
e.

“They have nothing to bet
,
” Mara said
,
picking at her hot pink toe nails.

“They’
re all the
same
,” Amy interrupted as she came
and
sat
on the coffee table in front of us.

Mara rolled her eyes
and
stood,
“Someone’
s miserable again—
I’ll go get some snacks.”

“What do you mean?” I asked
,
figuring I should make some sort of comment.

“Look at my arm,
”
She explained in a low voice as she raised
her shirt sleeve to show
the
purple
and
blue mark that stained her skin
.

“He beats you?” I said in mock shock.
The power hungry men with self esteem issues beat their wives—how contrite.
I tried to feel pity for her, but her attitude and general air of arrogance made it hard.

“They’re all arrogant assholes,” she lowered the shirt discreetly, “
Self-s
erving pricks.”

She was
n’t saying anything
that
I didn’t know
as I looked over my shoulder
at
the wasted cans of beer. Hunter
sat playing with the top of his
bottle of water. The man burst out in laughter
,
and
I saw Hunter’s eyes darken
,
but
laughter came out of his mouth too. It was fake
and
painful for me to hear when I had
heard his real laughter so often
myself.

“I bet their talking about one of their
wives—
some sick perverted joke,” Amy grinded
her teeth, “A
t leas
t you don’t have to pretend to b
e in love with him. Y
ou’re a POW not a POM.”

“POM?”
I asked suddenly intrigued by what she was saying because in truth, I had no clue what she was hinting at.

“Prisoner
of marriage,
”
Amy responded.

“You never
loved him?” I asked
,
glancing over my shoulder at her husband.
He was a towering man with bleach blonde hair
and
a square jaw.
He looked intimidating, but very stupid. He reminded me of the men that had fought Hunter from the M
cCrery tribe.

“Look at him. I thought I was in love with him. I was in love with his looks
and
his arrogance had a strange appeal to me. I guess it’s the classic cheerleader
meets
jock thing,
”
Amy explained with a slight shrug of her shoulders.

“Huh?”
I asked,
wondering how cheerleading
and
sports had any sort of validity in our world.

“You really were sheltered out there in the woods weren’t you? Did they inbreed you too?”

That’s when I saw it in her eyes. The same
thing that was in her husband’s;
she was just like him
. They were mere beasts with closed minds.

“In
bred? Seeing we were on
ly there
for
fifteen
years I don’t think it was
enough time to become inbred,” I retorted. I felt like smacking her across the face, or better yet using one of the moves Hunter had taught me to put her flat out on the ground.

“So will you have an arranged marriage if you ever go back?”
She asked
,
fluttering her black eyelashes at me as if she hadn’t said anything that I should be insulted by.

I looked over my shoulder
and
my eyes met Hunter’s. He smiled at me
and
I couldn’t help
but
smile back.

“I
don’t think I’ll ever get back,” I replied.

“
Do y
ou think Hunter will kill you?”
Amy sneered.

“I’
m a POW
my
fate is sealed to his decisions,
”
I replied,
trying to let the
but
terflies in my stomach disappear. I wasn’t going anywhere because I didn’t want to.

“Hey,” Hunter interrupted,
grasping my shoulder, “Let’s go.”

“Bored?”
Amy asked,
looking up at Hunter and smiling.
Her eyes glanced over his strong chest and downwards, and the want to injure her returned.

“We have some stuff to do,
”
Hunter replied.

She raised an
eyebrow
,
but
stood to go join the other wives who were
sitting in a circle gossiping
,
most likely about me.

“Thanks for saving me,” I said
as we walked out to the front porch.

“
I d
idn
’t want Amy to taint your good
nature,” Hunter explained.

“She really hates her husband,” I remarked
as Hunter jumped off the porch
and
looked up at me to follow,
“Seriously? I’ll hurt myself.”

“I’ll catch you before you fall on your fac
e,” he reassured me. He winked at me as
he stood
and
rubbed
the dirt off his hands onto his jeans.
I didn’t trust that I could do it, but I knew he would catch me.

I took a deep breath
and
launched myself off the porch landing like a cat. I
looked up into his smiling face,
“Don’t look so pleased with
yourself
.”

“
Well, I taught you how to do it,
”
Hunter commented
.

“And how did you do that?”

“You observed my skill
and
copied it.”

“Maybe I
just have natural talent?
”
I countered,
knowing it was a ridiculous concept.

“Sure you do. Twigs trip you,
”
h
e
teased, and
his laughter
lightened the darkness of what his training meant
—
I might have to use it someday.

“So what do you want to do?”
I asked
.

“Let’s go for a run
and
then I can t
each you some more of my skills,
”
he suggested before
taking off at a sprint.

His shadow flit
ted behind the bare trees
,
and
I could barely keep
track of where he was going.
It d
idn’t help that his footfalls w
ere almost silent against the night
,
and
the sound of my he
art crushing against my chest was
the only thing I could hear
. The idea o
f losing sight of him was causing
the pain in my chest more than the lactate filling my muscles.
Still
I felt that if I had no idea what direction he had gone I coul
d
find my way back to him.

“Seriously?” I huffed
when I finally caught u
p to him in an open field lit
only
by
the moon light,
“You couldn’t slow down at least a little bit?”

“I didn’t want anyone to follow us
. I think
I need to teach you some stealth though. Y
ou sounded like a rampaging rhino
,
so all they had to do was listen for you
,” Hunter remarked,
his hands placed behind his head so that his shirt raised just enough for me to see the white of his hips glinting against the moon light.

“I was…thinking the same thing,” I managed to stutter, “a
nd I could barely tell where you were going.”

“Ho
w did you find me then?” h
e asked
with
an eyebrow arched over his
jade eyes.

“Instinct?”

He pointed at me
,
and
I found myself blushing.

“Exactly, you need
to trust yourself more
and
rely
on what you know about me—or in the case of fighting what you know about
your
opponent,
”
Hunter explained
.

“How will I be able to know things about my
opponent if I’
ve never met them?” I asked
,
putting my hands on my hips in frustration. It seemed that fighting was more about mind games than anything else.

“Did you listen to me when we w
ere dancing last night?” he asked
,
his lips going into a downward turn that I
despised
.

“
I did—it’s just
sometimes
you
distract me,” I explained,
taking a deep breath.

“I’ll try to re
in in my good lo
oks,” Hunter joked, his smile returning
.

“I know you said that body types matter…and to observe the way they fight
,
but
I don’t get how that technically works. How am I suppose to think of all that
and
think of how to defend myself?”

“You just have to. T
o
survive you have to
do
whatever is needed
. Now look at me—what do you think my weakness
would be? You’ve seen me fight,” Hunter questioned,
his arms crossed
and
his eyes burning into me for answers.

“
The best chance to get a hit on you is when you’re back is turned
,
or
when you are striking someone. The reaction time is very slim
to actually get a hit in though
because you seem to be thinking of what I will do next
and
what you will do
next at the s
ame time. Best chance wit
h you
,
in all probability
,
would
be
to throw as
many strikes as I possibly can
as fast as I possibly can.”