their offerings at the edge of a large circle neatly painted on the smooth concrete floor. Their hosts numbered close to twenty. They were dressed in a motley assortment of clothing, all of which seemed comfortable without being overly loose. They clustered around Sean and his friends, mobbing them, invading their space.
A shorter blond man in a green jersey greeted them. “It’s been a while. Good to see you back.”
Nell stepped up as the leader of the pack. She bumped fists with him. “First time since Tiger died, Mark.”
Mark looked her up and down. “You sure you’re ready for this? No spectators, remember? And no tourists, either,” he added, pointing with his chin toward Sean.
“Stella’s six months old already. If you give me any flack about this, I’ll zap you with some white stuff, I will.” Her green eyes gleamed with the glare of the overprotected and the willfully independent.
“You had a baby and shouldn’t be fighting, Nell.” Mark’s hip jutted out, his gesture determined.
Nell made a show of stripping her long-sleeve thermal shirt off her athletic body. She wore a black sports tank underneath, equipped with the best suspension engineering money could buy. She reached under the bra, flipped her right tit out, and squeezed it with considerable expertise.
A stream of warm, pale white liquid shot out. It spanned the five-foot distance, zapping Mark right in the cheek.
The men stood speechless; the few women present grinned.
“Oh, oh yuck , woman, that’s so fucking gross ! How the fuck could you do a thing like this? Have you no shame?” Mark wiped the milk off his red face with his sleeve.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Nell tucked herself back in and grabbed a bottle of water, then walked to the center of the circle, and as she looked around, she uttered the words most of them knew so well. “Who will share drink and blood with me?”
“Oh, I’ll be happy to!” A bespectacled woman in a ponytail folded her glasses and tucked them into the spine of her book before she joined Nell in the middle of the ring with an open bottle of beer in her hand.
“Hey, Lisa!” Nell touched her bottle to Lisa’s with a smile, who then responded with the traditional response: “Hold your liquor while your blood curdles in fear.”
They drank up and squared off.
Sean thought he’d be attending a party, not a hard-core sparring session free-for-all with heavy-duty drinking involved. He watched Lisa, the girl fighting Nell, lead with a quick kick to the knee, which Nell avoided by moving her hips back. Lisa launched a punch at Nell’s face, which she blocked and counterpunched with a simultaneous dig up Lisa’s floating ribs. It would have been a great hit had Lisa not slammed her elbow down Nell’s forearm, going after her exposed throat with a strong, clawed hand.
Yet Nell stepped back just the smallest bit, causing Lisa to overreach, and overreaching was bad. It was greedy—it caused nothing but bad alignment, as Asbjorn so often tried to emphasize—and Lisa balanced forward just enough to allow Nell to bump her shin with a light, swift kick, and Lisa’s face slammed right into Nell’s waiting elbow.
Sean gasped as Lisa stumbled, a bit of blood streaming from her nose.
“You new to this?” asked a quiet voice next to him.
“Yeah,” Sean admitted, sizing up his neighbor. He was about Sean’s height, but his slender arms showed hard-earned muscle definition.
“I’m Adrian Rios.”
“Sean Gallaway.” He extended his hand, but Adrian presented him with a fist to bump. “We don’t shake. Too easy to get thrown.” He grinned. “I’ll challenge you next, Sean. Since you’re new and all. If they brought you along, you can’t totally suck.”
Chapter 6
A DRIAN STOOD in the middle of the circle with a bottle of beer in his left hand. His right thumb was hooked into the waistband of a pair of black cargo pants, black muscle shirt hugging his torso and
A shorter blond man in a green jersey greeted them. “It’s been a while. Good to see you back.”
Nell stepped up as the leader of the pack. She bumped fists with him. “First time since Tiger died, Mark.”
Mark looked her up and down. “You sure you’re ready for this? No spectators, remember? And no tourists, either,” he added, pointing with his chin toward Sean.
“Stella’s six months old already. If you give me any flack about this, I’ll zap you with some white stuff, I will.” Her green eyes gleamed with the glare of the overprotected and the willfully independent.
“You had a baby and shouldn’t be fighting, Nell.” Mark’s hip jutted out, his gesture determined.
Nell made a show of stripping her long-sleeve thermal shirt off her athletic body. She wore a black sports tank underneath, equipped with the best suspension engineering money could buy. She reached under the bra, flipped her right tit out, and squeezed it with considerable expertise.
A stream of warm, pale white liquid shot out. It spanned the five-foot distance, zapping Mark right in the cheek.
The men stood speechless; the few women present grinned.
“Oh, oh yuck , woman, that’s so fucking gross ! How the fuck could you do a thing like this? Have you no shame?” Mark wiped the milk off his red face with his sleeve.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Nell tucked herself back in and grabbed a bottle of water, then walked to the center of the circle, and as she looked around, she uttered the words most of them knew so well. “Who will share drink and blood with me?”
“Oh, I’ll be happy to!” A bespectacled woman in a ponytail folded her glasses and tucked them into the spine of her book before she joined Nell in the middle of the ring with an open bottle of beer in her hand.
“Hey, Lisa!” Nell touched her bottle to Lisa’s with a smile, who then responded with the traditional response: “Hold your liquor while your blood curdles in fear.”
They drank up and squared off.
Sean thought he’d be attending a party, not a hard-core sparring session free-for-all with heavy-duty drinking involved. He watched Lisa, the girl fighting Nell, lead with a quick kick to the knee, which Nell avoided by moving her hips back. Lisa launched a punch at Nell’s face, which she blocked and counterpunched with a simultaneous dig up Lisa’s floating ribs. It would have been a great hit had Lisa not slammed her elbow down Nell’s forearm, going after her exposed throat with a strong, clawed hand.
Yet Nell stepped back just the smallest bit, causing Lisa to overreach, and overreaching was bad. It was greedy—it caused nothing but bad alignment, as Asbjorn so often tried to emphasize—and Lisa balanced forward just enough to allow Nell to bump her shin with a light, swift kick, and Lisa’s face slammed right into Nell’s waiting elbow.
Sean gasped as Lisa stumbled, a bit of blood streaming from her nose.
“You new to this?” asked a quiet voice next to him.
“Yeah,” Sean admitted, sizing up his neighbor. He was about Sean’s height, but his slender arms showed hard-earned muscle definition.
“I’m Adrian Rios.”
“Sean Gallaway.” He extended his hand, but Adrian presented him with a fist to bump. “We don’t shake. Too easy to get thrown.” He grinned. “I’ll challenge you next, Sean. Since you’re new and all. If they brought you along, you can’t totally suck.”
Chapter 6
A DRIAN STOOD in the middle of the circle with a bottle of beer in his left hand. His right thumb was hooked into the waistband of a pair of black cargo pants, black muscle shirt hugging his torso and
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