Chapter 13
The heavy punching bag in the center of the training room mocked Kate as it swung from its hook in the ceiling.
“The key,” Luc said, circling her with the patient air of someone who had taught many new vampires, “is not to think about your strength as something separate from yourself. It’s part of you now, like your heartbeat used to be.”
Kate nodded, though she wasn’t entirely convinced. Two weeks into her everlasting existence, she still felt like she was wearing someone else’s body. It was too strong, too fast, chilling and yet exhilarating.
“Show me what you did yesterday,” Luc instructed.
Kate approached the punching bag with trepidation, remembering the disaster of her previous attempt. She pulled back her fist and threw what she thought was a controlled punch. The bag exploded on impact, sand and leather flying across the room.
“Holy shit,” she muttered, staring at the destruction that landed at her feet.
“Better,” Luc said with approval, ignoring the mess. “Considering yesterday, you put your fist through the wall. Today, you only destroyed the bag. Believe it or not, that’s progress.”
Kate looked around the training room, noticing for the first time the various patches and repairs in the walls. “How many new vampires have you trained?”
“Enough to know that everyone goes through this phase,” Luc said with a smile. “The strength is intoxicating at first, then terrifying, then finally it becomes as natural as breathing.”
“When does that happen?”
“For most vampires? Six months to a year.” Luc’s expression grew more serious. “But you don’t have that kind of time. If we’re going to face Aleksander, you need to be able to defend yourself.”
Kate felt a familiar chill at the mention of her maker’s name, but pushed it aside. “Then teach me everything you can.”
For the next hour, Luc put her through a series of exercises designed to help her control her fledgling strength. Precision strikes against reinforced targets, grappling techniques that required finesse rather than brute force, defensive maneuvers that relied on speed and agility.
Kate was surprised to discover that she was actually good at this.
Her background in yoga and dance enhanced her agility in combat.
It gave her a natural grace that worked well with her new supernatural abilities.
“Excellent,” Luc said as she completed a complex defensive sequence.
“You’re learning to think like a predator.
” “Is that what I am now?” Kate asked, pausing her routine to think about it.
“We all are,” said a familiar voice from the doorway.
Kate turned to see Devon entering the training room. Her heart did something complicated at the sight of him, part joy, part desire, part the ever-present awareness that they hadn’t been truly intimate since her transformation.
He wasn’t alone. Behind him stood Antoine, as well as Mikhail and Liliana, two of Sophia’s most trusted lieutenants.
Kate had come to recognize them as a constant, steady presence in the compound.
Mikhail stood quietly, his watchful intensity evident, and Liliana, whose sharp, dangerous energy would often soften whenever she spoke to Kate.
“How long have you been watching?” Kate asked, feeling a bit anxious about performing.
“Long enough to be impressed,” Liliana replied, her voice full of genuine approval. “You have a fighter’s grace, Kate.” It’s rare in one so newly turned.”
“And you’re a very quick student,” Devon added, his eyes warm with a pride that made Kate’s cheeks heat up even more. Even after everything they’d been through, his approval still affected her like a physical touch.
“She has natural instincts,” Luc agreed. “But she needs to learn to fight against someone with experience, not just training equipment.”
Devon’s smile turned wicked. “I volunteer.”
Kate felt her pulse quicken, or the ghost of one, the phantom sensation her body still remembered.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“What? Afraid I’ll go easy on you?” Devon asked, beginning to remove his jacket.
“Afraid you won’t,” Kate replied, but she was already moving to the center of the training mat.
The other vampires settled themselves into chairs along the walls, anticipating entertainment. Kate tried to ignore their audience and focus on Devon as he approached her on the mat.
“Rules?” she asked.
“No permanent damage,” Devon said, rolling up his sleeves. “First one pinned for a count of five loses.”
“That’s it?”
Devon’s smile was deliciously mischievous. “That’s it.”
They circled each other slowly, and Kate was struck by how different this felt from training with Luc. With Luc, she’d been learning. With Devon, she was hunting.
Devon moved first, a lightning-fast strike that Kate barely managed to deflect. She countered with a kick that would have shattered a human’s ribs, but Devon caught her ankle and used her momentum to spin her around.
Kate twisted free from his grip and landed in a crouch.
She immediately launched herself at him.
For a moment, she thought she had him. She closed the distance in a heartbeat, too fast for his ancient reflexes to counter.
He sidestepped at the last second, grabbed her wrist, and used her own momentum to send her tumbling across the mat.
Kate rolled to her feet, grinning despite herself. ‘Show off.’
“You haven’t seen anything yet,” Devon replied with a chuckle.
What followed was less a fight than a dance. Devon’s experience showed in every move. He anticipated her attacks and countered her defences. It was as if he knew where she would be before she arrived. Kate’s agility and unpredictable nature kept her in the game longer than the onlookers expected.
She landed a few solid hits. When she threw Devon over her shoulder, impressed murmurs spread through the small crowd, and Antoine couldn’t stop himself from standing up to clap. Mikhail caught her eye and gave a slow, deliberate nod of respect, boosting Kate’s confidence.
“Impressive,” Devon said, springing back to his feet with inhuman grace. “But now I’m going to stop playing.”
Kate barely had time to register the warning before Devon moved. One moment, she was standing, ready to defend herself. Next, she was on her back on the mat with Devon’s weight pinning her down, his hands holding her wrists above her head.
“Five,” he said softly, his face inches from hers.
Kate struggled against his grip, but it was useless. Four hundred years of power held her as securely as steel chains.
“Four.”
She could feel the heat of his body rubbing against hers, could see the way his eyes had darkened with something that had nothing to do with combat.
“Three.”
The audience faded away. The training room disappeared. All she saw was Devon above her, inhaling his familiar scent, relishing the weight of him pressing her into the mat.
“Two.”
Kate’s breathing quickened, and she saw Devon’s nostrils flare as he caught her scent. The air between them crackled with tension that had been building for weeks.
“One.”
But as Devon leaned closer, as his lips almost brushed hers, Kate’s vision shifted. The face above her changed, became crueler, more angular. Pale eyes replaced blue ones, along with a cold, twisted smile that had never shown her kindness.
“Hope I’m not interrupting. Enjoying yourself, are we? Do you taste him and think of me, little Pet?”
Kate let out a blood-curdling scream.
The sound that tore from her throat was pure terror, and she thrashed against the hands holding her with desperate, panicked strength. Devon released her immediately, rolling away as Kate scrambled backward across the mat.
“Kate!” Devon’s voice was sharp with alarm. “What happened? What did you see?”
Kate pressed herself against the wall, her whole body shaking.
“Him,” she whispered. “I saw him. Aleksander. He was, you were…” She couldn’t finish the sentence.
The training room had gone completely silent. Their audience watched with expressions ranging from concern to understanding. They all knew about maker bonds, about the psychological hold a sire could maintain over their progeny.
Devon approached her slowly, his hands raised to indicate he meant no harm. “Kate, it’s me. It’s Devon. Aleksander isn’t here.”
“I know,” Kate said, her voice breaking. “I know it’s you. But when you were on top of me, when it felt like—” She shuddered. “He was there. In my head. Watching. Mocking.”
Devon’s face went white with rage, but his voice remained gentle. “The bond is amplified when you’re vulnerable. When your defences are down.”
Kate wrapped her arms around herself, feeling suddenly cold despite the warmth of the training room.
“I can’t even spar with you without him poisoning it. How are we supposed to—” She gestured helplessly between them.
“We’ll find a way,” Devon said firmly. “After we deal with him, after we break the bond permanently, we’ll find our way back to each other.”
Kate nodded, though she wasn’t sure she believed it. How could they build a life together when Aleksander’s presence lurked in every intimate moment?
Luc cleared his throat diplomatically. “Perhaps we should call it a day. Kate, you did very well for your first real sparring session.”
Kate managed a weak smile. “Thanks. Though I think the final score was Devon: One, Kate: Zero, Aleksander: still winning.”
“Not for much longer,” Devon said.
As the group dispersed, Kate remained sitting against the wall, trying to process what had happened.
She’d felt indestructible during the training, capable, like she might actually be able to hold her own in a fight.
But the moment things had turned intimate, the moment she’d let her guard down, Aleksander had been there.
Devon sat down beside her, careful to maintain some distance. “Talk to me.”
“I’m scared,” Kate admitted. “Not of fighting him, I think I can do that now. But I’m scared that even after he’s gone, even after we kill him, he’ll still be there. In my head. Between us.”
Devon was quiet for a long moment. “Do you remember what you told me once? About how trauma changes you, but doesn’t have to define you?”
Kate nodded.
“This is trauma, too,” Devon said gently. “What he’s doing to your mind, the way he’s poisoning our connection, it’s another violation. But like all trauma, we can heal from it. It will take time, and patience, and probably help from people who understand these kinds of bonds.”
“You really think so?”
“I know so,” Devon said with quiet certainty. “Because I love you, Kate. Not just the human you were, but the vampire you’re becoming. And that love is greater than any bond Aleksander could forge.”
Kate leaned against his shoulder, careful not to make the contact too intimate. “I love you too. That’s what makes this so hard, knowing that he’s stealing even this from us.”
“Then we take it back,” Devon said simply. “We kill him, we break the bond, and we take back everything he’s stolen.”
Kate closed her eyes, drawing strength from Devon’s certainty. In a matter of days, they would face Aleksander in his mountain fortress. She would have to be ready, not just to fight, but to resist whatever psychological games he tried to play.
And when it was over, when Aleksander was nothing but a faint memory, she would learn to be intimate again without seeing his face in the shadows.
She had to believe that was possible because the alternative was letting him win, even in death.