Chapter 249
The WarmupAsh hit the ground hard enough to taste blood again.
She rolled onto her side, coughed, and spat sand from her mouth while the ocean dragged itself up the beach behind her. Her shoulder ached where Annie had touched her. That was the part that made it worse. The pain wasn’t from a punch or a kick.
All it had taken to put her down was a two-fingered jab.
Twenty minutes ago, four-on-one had sounded unfair. And it was. Just not for her sister.
“Up,” Annie said.
Ash pushed herself onto one knee and glared through the hair plastered to her forehead. Sweat ran down the side of her face, stinging one eye. Her lungs burned. Her arms felt heavy. Sand clung to her palms and the knees of her training pants.
Annie stood ten paces away with her hands loose at her sides, red hair tied back, boots planted in the sand. She was sweating too, but not because of them. And nothing like the soaked, trembling mess Ash could feel herself becoming.
Zane came in from Annie’s left, fast and low.
Annie pivoted half a step. Not even a full dodge. Zane’s shoulder passed through the space where she had been, and Annie’s hand tapped the back of his head on the way by.
His knees buckled and he hit the sand face-first, sliding for a meter.
Allie tried to use the opening. She fought smarter than Zane. Moved quieter on her approach. Tried to come in from Annie’s blind side while Zara raised both hands and dragged a knot of roots up from beneath the beach grass behind her.
Annie finally used a power.
Metal flashed across her forearm, unfolding into hooked claws. She turned, sliced the roots before they reached her ankle, then let the metal vanish back into skin.
Allie was already there, swinging at Annie’s ribs.
Annie caught her wrist, stepped in, and hooked a foot behind Allie’s heel, and Allie went down.
Ash hated it.
Annie wasn’t trying to hurt them. There was no cruelty behind each strike. She wasn’t even showing off. Annie was just taking them apart like they were amateurs.
“Again,” Annie said.
Zane groaned into the sand. “I’m good here.”
“You’re not.”
He lifted his head enough to spit. “Emotionally, I am.”
A few people laughed from the sidelines.
Ash didn’t turn. She knew they were all there, watching the humiliation. Davis and Yuki sat on a log, passing a bottle of water back and forth. Gilly stood near them with his arms crossed, too many eyes blinking at different times. The first real alien she’d ever met. Frank and Helen were there too, the ones responsible for making Annie sweat, even though they’d eaten just as much sand as she had.
Further back, away from the others, Augustus and Talia watched in silence.
Talia sat astride a dark red hoverbike that floated three feet off the sand, one boot resting lightly on a foot peg. The thing looked like it belonged on a battlefield with how much armor plating it had.
Augustus stood beside her with his hands tucked into his armpits. His spellbook floated open in front of him, pages turning now and then in the sea breeze.
They looked relaxed.
But two weeks of ‘basic’ conditioning and martial initiation had taught her that relaxed meant dangerous around Grimnir. She regretted ever asking to start the real combat training.
Zara pulled her hands back, breathing hard. “She’s only using her powers against me.”
“That’s because you’re the only one cheating properly,” Annie said.
“I’m not cheating! I’m just using my power.”
“Exactly.”
Ash got both feet under her and stood. Her legs protested, but she ignored them.
Annie’s eyes flicked to her. Her grin softened.
Ash’s anger flared. Of course. There it was. The older sister look. The worried look. The look that said Annie had dragged her out of Whitmore, thrown her into this impossible place full of monsters and soldiers and magical lunatics, and still thought Ash needed to be taken care of.
Then Annie moved. One second she was ten paces away, and the next she was inside Ash’s reach, hand already reaching toward her shoulder.
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Ash reacted on instinct. She slapped the hand aside and managed a straight kick.
Annie twisted, and the foot missed. Her elbow brushed Ash’s ribs, not even hard enough to crack anything, but still hard enough to steal her breath away.
Ash swung anyway. She threw a tight, ugly hook aimed for Annie’s jaw.
Annie ducked under it and tapped Ash behind the knee.
Ash hit the sand again. She lay there for a second, staring at the sky, chest heaving.
Annie leaned over her. “You’re getting better.”
“Go to hell.”
“Your trash talk is getting worse, though.”
Ash growled with bared teeth.
Annie grinned back.
That was the problem. Annie wasn’t pulling punches because Ash was her sister. She was just making sure Ash knew exactly how far away she was. From Annie. From Grimnir. From the serum. From anything resembling control over her own life and future.
And the worst part was that Ash understood why. She still hated it.