20. Twenty
Twenty
“ D on’t let me win,” Leslie said as she faced her boyfriend across the sparring mat.
“Does that sound like me?”
No, come to think of it. She shrugged. “Just making sure we’re clear. If I beat you, it’s for real.”
Dressed in black athletic pants and tank top, unexpectedly attractive when barefoot, Ryker had spent the last half hour schooling her on the common moves used by sparring vampires. She had underestimated her ability to learn and apply the concepts, but Ryker hadn’t. He’d become even more attractive when she realized what a good teacher he was—never patronizing, clear in his explanations, willing to challenge her, and happily encouraging every time she nailed a new skill.
“Ryker trivia,” he said. “I’ve never let anyone beat me at anything in my entire life.”
She laughed. “Leslie trivia. I totally have.”
“Oh really?”
“Mostly in middle school. Hazard of going to school with humans and not wanting them to hate me.”
He gave the grimace she was becoming used to whenever she mentioned adapting herself to her surroundings. She’d been in Virginia less than twenty-four hours, but already his strong opinions on the topic made more sense than they had yesterday. The gym was another example of why.
Human gyms were intolerable for vampires: sweat and disinfectant, air conditioning, painfully loud music. Ryker’s gym smelled metallic and clean, but even the cleaners used were scent-free. The thermostat was similar to Claire’s bar, humid and hot and invigorating. The music volume was so modulated, most humans probably wouldn’t notice music was playing at all. And the vampires who weight-trained, sparred, climbed the rock wall—all of them did so at full speed, full strength, their eyes glinting jewel tones. When Leslie excused herself to the restroom, she had discovered a vending machine set between the two restrooms. It was stocked with blood bags.
“You can slake here,” she’d blurted when she returned to Ryker, as if he might not know.
He’d nodded. “Have you ever worked out so hard you got thirsty early?”
“Um, that’s a thing?”
“Sometimes, yeah.”
She wondered if she would ever run out of surprise for all things vampire in Ryker’s town.
Now she widened her stance and got ready to lose her first sparring match.
“First move?” Ryker offered.
Ooh. Yes, please. She’d do her best even if she had no chance at the win. She launched three feet off the mat and spun her body midair, aiming her bare foot at his chest. He dodged. She kept up the onslaught, throwing kicks and chops at him, darting in and out, determined to get hold of an arm or swipe a leg out from under him. When her heel grazed his ribs, she let out a cry of triumph that didn’t sound like her.
Then she landed on her back as Ryker did the leg-sweeping move she’d been trying for.
He didn’t pin her, though he could have, so she leaped to her feet and came at him again. The match lasted about ten minutes, and then she was down on the mat, and Ryker was straddling her hips, pinning her arms to her sides as she tried to wriggle out from under him.
“I don’t concede,” she said.
“You don’t have to, technically.”
He was grinning so hard, creases formed around his eyes, and she saw for a moment how Laurence had gained his own smile lines and how they would look on his son in a few decades or a century.
And then she saw her boyfriend looking as he did now but with a tattooed ring finger, popping the cork off a champagne bottle so that it fizzed onto the grass, laughing with victory toward the sky.
“Leslie?”
She grabbed the neck of his tank top in both hands and pulled him into a kiss. He scooped her up and cradled her back, cupped her neck and twined his fingers up into her hair under her ponytail. Her bare toes curled against the mat, and she fisted his shirt tighter and drew him as close as she could manage.
“So I guess this is Leslie,” came a satin baritone from the sidelines.
Ryker leaped to his feet, still cradling her. He set her beside him but kept his arm around her waist. She did the same, and her voice was at its fullest when she said, “And this must be Tai.”
Tai was already barefoot and clad in athletic ware—black pants and an ocean-blue shirt. His eyes were surprisingly not a variety of green, blue, or purple but instead nearly colorless, shiny like polished metal. His hair was neat and so deeply black, under the gym lights it looked almost blue.
He stepped onto the mat and held out his hand to her. “It’s really good to meet you.”
“Same. Ryker thinks the world of you.”
That made him smile, and his platinum eyes gained a higher gloss. “It’s mutual.”
“I’m glad.”
Tai turned to Ryker, and the two men hugged, complete with a solid pound to the other’s back.
“Congratulations on Angstrom,” Tai said.
Ryker cocked one blond eyebrow. “Did I name names?”
“Nope.” Tai smirked.
“Wait,” Leslie said. “Frederick Angstrom? The fraudster scammer millionaire who got indicted like twenty-six times including on felony charges?”
“Um…” Ryker said. “Well.”
“It’s been all over the news. Nationally. Internationally, probably.” She turned to Tai, who shrugged, then back to Ryker. “The case that’s had you tied in knots—you were working against Frederick Angstrom?”
Ryker lowered his voice. “It’s not public knowledge at this time.”
Right. And unlike her typical day at home, she was not surrounded by humans right now. She glanced around. No one else was near, and she tried to tune into various conversations across the gym to determine if anyone might have overheard her. The voices were so faint, she had to work to decipher every other word. Her shoulders relaxed. No one could have accidentally picked up on what she’d said. They’d have to be listening already.
“Sorry,” she said. “I’m not used to the less-privacy thing.”
“I’m sorry too,” Tai said. “It’s going into the public record, so I figured it was safe to comment on now.”
“It probably is, but let’s drop it for now. I’m not in the mood to be approached because a random vampire journalist overheard and wants a quote from ‘an unnamed person inside the investigation.’”
“Has that happened to you before?” she said.
“Rarely, but yeah.” Ryker stabbed a finger in Tai’s direction. “I’d like to know how you even know about it this early.”
“Wouldn’t you?” Another smirk.
Ryker rolled his eyes. “This only motivates me to wipe the mat with you.”
“Let’s see you try.”
“Oh, this is going to be good,” Leslie said.
Tai made a sweeping gesture with one arm. “Do you two want to go again first?”
Ryker said, “Up to Leslie. I’m happy to fight either of you.”
She chuckled at his playful smugness, then shrugged. “There’s time for both, right?”
“Sure, if you want.”
“Then I’ll delay my further losses. Now that I’ve given it a try, I’m more curious to see y’all.”
“Works for me,” Tai said, “but you’ll want to step off the—”
Before he could finish, Ryker launched at him, full speed and full strength, both feet aiming for Tai’s upper body. Tai ducked so fast, Leslie almost lost track of him. Ryker sailed over his friend’s crouching body and landed on his feet, then spun and charged again about five times faster and harder than he’d come at Leslie. Tai evaded him again, then changed direction and made an offense of his own. His palm brushed Ryker’s back, making the first physical contact of the match.
Their arms and legs were like whirlwinds, their gaits like quicksilver. They leapt and spun and flipped away from one another in moves smoother and more intricate than Leslie had ever seen before. When a heel or hand landed, Ryker or Tai gave a shout of triumph.
At first, Leslie thought Ryker had no chance. His friend was too fast and too wily, choosing evasion most of the time, which seemed to be a solid strategy as Ryker continued attacking. Surely Tai would tire him out or cause him to make a frustrated mistake. But Ryker did neither. He kept coming, his blue eyes sparking with competition and determination, his teeth bared at his best friend in what was only partly a friendly grin. The other part of it was pure predator. Tai’s face, by contrast, was utterly blank.
Twenty minutes into the match, Ryker managed to seize Tai in a full arm-lock. Tai flipped him over his back, but Ryker grabbed hold of him again, and then they were wrestling on their feet, face to face, hands and arms locked, trying to push one another off the mat. Tai hissed as his feet were forced to slide back, back, back—and then he ducked under Ryker’s arm and tugged Ryker halfway around with him. But Ryker kept hold of him and with sheer strength propelled Tai backward. Tai’s back arched as he resisted, and for a long moment he seemed suspended off his feet in the air. Then he buckled, and Ryker landed with his knees on either side of his friend’s torso, pinning Tai’s arms above his head.
Tai’s body bucked like an angry horse, but he couldn’t get Ryker off him. He resisted for a long few seconds, then lay suddenly, perfectly still.
“Okay,” he said.
At the single word, Ryker was up and pulling Tai to his feet. “Good match.”
“Good match,” Tai said.
“That was incredible,” Leslie said as they joined her beside the mat. “How even is it between you two? Do you win half, lose half?”
“Pretty much,” Ryker said.
“He’s got me beat with brute strength,” Tai said. “But he’s slow. So…” He shrugged. “Yeah, it’s pretty close to fifty/fifty.”
To Leslie’s eyes, neither of them could be called slow, though Tai’s grace and speed were stunning to watch in a way Ryker didn’t quite match. “But if Ryker’s stronger, how do you ever pin him?”
Tai smirked. “Want to see?”
“Absolutely.”
Ryker rolled his eyes. “Bring it.”
The words had barely left his mouth when Tai sprang at him and propelled him back onto the mat.
As if the first match had been a warmup, they went at each other now with even greater fluidity and speed. Watching Ryker and Tai turn sparring into a sort of aggressive dance, Leslie could describe them only with poetry. They were like lightning when it jumped from cloud to cloud without ever striking the earth. They were like water sliding over smooth stones.
They were vampires. This was what their bodies could do, what hers could do. Pride for what she was swelled in her chest as she watched the two men.
This match was longer than the first. Neither vampire could manage to pin the other for over half an hour. Then Tai feinted and crouched and, with his leg nearly skimming the mat, swept both of Ryker’s legs from under him. Ryker was flipped onto his back, and as he began to spring up, Tai hit him with his open hands against both Ryker’s shoulders. Using his body weight as well as gravity, Tai brought his friend back down to the mat.
Ryker didn’t buck at all. He laughed. “Okay.”
Then Tai was on his feet, hauling Ryker up by the hand. “Good match.”
“Good match,” Ryker said.
Leslie tried to find her words. She wanted them to know how impressive they were, but they likely already did. Or maybe vampires who had lived in community so long weren’t awed by one another.
Ryker left the mat to join her. “There you go. That’s how he beats me.”
“I’ve never seen anything like you two. There’s no point in me getting back out there.”
“Of course there is, if you enjoy it. And there’s no reason you can’t beat one of us, with enough practice.”
To his second point, she shook her head. She could practice for a century and never beat either of them. But on his first point…he was right. She couldn’t care less about being the best. She stepped onto the mat.
“My turn,” she said.
“Tai, will you record us?”
“Sure.” Tai padded over to their piled gym bags and dug out his phone.
“Wait, why?” She hadn’t been self-conscious until this moment, but now…
“I want you to see yourself,” Ryker said, suddenly somber. “How you move. You’re beautiful, and I want you to see it.”
Oh… She blinked a few times against the emotion that rose inside. “Well…um… Okay, then. Go ahead, Tai.”
But she couldn’t get in a single hit now. No doubt she looked ridiculous up against Ryker’s skill. No doubt she’d cringe as she watched the video Tai silently recorded from the sidelines. No doubt Ryker thought she was laughable even if he didn’t say so.
“Leslie,” Ryker said without pausing his steady forward motion, crowding her toward the edge of the mat, “fight back. You were fighting back before.”
“I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Yeah, you do.” He batted away her measly attempt to hit him, then batted again. “You could hit me before.”
“You were letting me.”
“No, I wasn’t. Come on.” He chopped her upper arm with the side of his hand, but there was no force behind it. “Come on!”
Fine. She’d prove her incompetence on camera. She flew at him, twisted midair and hammered a roundhouse kick toward his face. He ducked, and her foot passed over his head, and with a hiss she launched into the air again, this time trying with both hands to pummel his chest. Ryker leaped back, and Leslie landed short, on her feet but still without making contact.
Now he took up defense. He let her keep coming and made no more attempts to strike. Which was also maddening. Leslie tried to remember how Tai had gotten hold of him. She watched Ryker’s moves, calculated when his feet left the mat in a forward spring designed to put her back on her heels. Instead she tried to imitate Tai’s feint and crouch. With a thrust of her arm she took out his legs at the ankles. Ryker gave a gasp of surprise and landed on his back.
Leslie was still in motion. He would be on his feet again in half a heartbeat, unless— She tackled and landed directly on his midsection, and Ryker grunted sharply.
“Oh!” Leslie rolled off him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”
Ryker wrapped one arm around her and pulled her close, and this time she landed half-sprawled across his chest and legs. He was laughing, the full musical sound she had grown to love so much.
“I didn’t hurt you?”
“If I were human, I’m pretty sure you’d have knocked the wind out of me.”
“Sorry.”
“Leslie, I’m fine. And you were fantastic.” He sprang to his feet and brought her with him, both on their feet in a moment. “Let’s watch it back, and you’ll see what I’m talking about.”
No, no, she wouldn’t. She bit her lip as Tai angled his phone toward her. His thumb tapped the screen, and the video began to play.
On Tai’s phone screen, two vampires sparred. The man was blond and gorgeous, skilled and smooth and strong. The woman had a silver ponytail and wore Leslie’s workout clothes, black leggings and a magenta top with a floral print. But she couldn’t possibly be Leslie, because she moved like lightning when it danced among the clouds. Her kicks, her springs, the way her body left the mat as though gravity weren’t the last word for her. And then she ducked so fluidly the phone’s camera hardly kept up with her. And then she came at Ryker so fast, she really did become a blur.
The recording ended when Ryker drew her toward him. His laughter was cut off, and the image that went still on the screen showed his arms around her back, her head on his chest, their bodies sprawled in casual togetherness. A chill of pleasure danced in her chest.
“Oh,” she whispered.
“Told you so,” Ryker said. While she had watched the video, he had watched her.
“At first I thought I looked like someone else,” she said. “But no. That’s me. That’s all me.”
“Yep.”
And Ryker was right. She looked really good. Fully alive, unguarded, fast and strong and herself. Leslie Snow: Tennessee girl, diorama artist…vampire.