Bloodrage

On the brighter side, I also was finding myself getting on better and better with Mary and her friends. I had little in common with them, but Deborah didn’t have a mean bone in her body, and Mary’s constant stream of chatter always helped make me feel just that little bit less stressed or worried. I spent a fair bit of time chatting to both Brock and Aqmar, and Brock in particular was opening up to me. We had a lot of deep and meaningful discussions over meals about the rights and wrongs of magic, although we entirely avoided talking about what might or might not be happening with his love life and his momentous crush on Deborah. I didn’t push it.

By the time Friday rolled around, and I had Protection again with Thomas, I was starting to feel more in control of myself, and my emotions. I’d spent more time in the library, and was starting to feel an odd fondness for Slim and his curses. I’d also found the time to translate a little bit more of the Fae book, although it pretty much just explained how my potential (probable?) ancestor found his own demise at the hands of the rather unfortunately named Bolox, a warrior who set a cunning trap involving a sacrificial virgin (who sadly bled to death in course of the proceedings) and some kind of elaborate gold mesh net. Bolox nearly hadn’t made it out alive himself, as the dragon-man had reverted back to his true form in his final death throes and had gouged a deep enough chunk out of the warrior’s shoulder that he almost died from his injuries afterwards.

Back in the virtually derelict Protection building that Health and Safety would have had a field day with, I found myself looking forward to what Thomas had to offer. Over the past week, we’d managed to maintain a cool ambivalence towards each other whenever our paths crossed. My hair was now already almost an inch long and I was still tempted to keep it shaved if for no other reason than I’d be able to keep rubbing in his face how much of a prick he’d been. But when I met him for our second round, he was all relaxed smiles.

“So, Initiate Smith, you’ve been encouraging the younger ones to attack using the element of surprise and the unexpected, have you?”

I was surprised myself that he had chosen to no longer make more of my teaching of his pet subject, and just nodded.

“Well then,” he continued, “let’s see if you can practise what you preach.”

He motioned me towards the centre of the gym, and then stood in front of me, his entire body proclaiming a calmness that I found bewildering. His stance was completely open and vulnerable, and I couldn’t begin to see how he could possibly be successful.

Thomas laughed at me. “You look confused, Initiate. T’ai chi chu’an is not about tension or the centrifugal force that modern fighters so mistakenly rely on. Rather it involves looseness in order to subdue potential aggressors with the minimum amount of effort. Your task is not to fight back, but merely to avoid my own attacks.” He bared his teeth at me in the semblance of a grin. “I doubt you will cope.”

Bullshit. I grinned at the mage, confident that this was going to be a piece of cake.

He began to gracefully extend his arms, in a move reminiscent of our previous lesson’s drills. “When your body is emptied and vacant of force and tension, your muscles relax and a resolute strength takes its place. This strength, you shall discover, is superior in every way to all other forms of attack.”

I watched him, waiting for the moment when I could block his movements and prove to him yet again, that anything I could do would best him. He was moving so leisurely and deliberately that it required no effort on my part to track his movements. Until all of a sudden he whipped out with his fist and caught me in my stomach, causing me to double over and exhale all the air I had left in my lungs. I was so stunned that he’d managed to hit me with such strength when he was moving around so slowly, that I barely managed to stand back up before he lashed out again, this time with his foot. He connected with my leg mid-thigh and, yet again, I went down.

“Keeping your body weight on one foot alone aids the movement and attack,” Thomas intoned, spinning around like a ballroom dancer in slow motion, and flicking out again to knock me on the side of my head. “Using two feet to equally distribute your weight impedes your agility.” He cast around with his arms, then brought them together and bowed.

I straightened up and stared at him, aghast that he’d found it so easy to connect and attack. The rage within me that set my bloodfire roaring threatened for one moment to overcome my thoughts, but I counted to ten instead and concentrated on re-gaining my breath.

Thomas smiled at me, pleased. “I didn’t think it would take you such a short time to manage to not reflexively return my assault.”

I had to admit that I was rather taken aback myself. I figured it was because I knew that he wasn’t really going to hurt me all that much.

I shrugged. “I guess I’m just a fast learner.” I twisted my body to the side, trying to snap out the pain that still throbbed from my stomach muscles. “But explain to me, Mage Thomas, why these techniques didn’t work before?”

He cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

“In the cafeteria. Before. When I attacked you. You didn’t try any of this stuff or at least you didn’t manage to beat me anyway. That was an easy win for me.” I wasn’t trying to goad him; I was genuinely curious.

“Ah, well, you were actually fighting me that time. It’s a whole different ball game when your opponent is not only using magic but is also seeing things through the veil of emotion.” He inclined his head. “You are a superior fighter to me, of that there is no doubt. Hence you managed to beat me in the cafeteria. And I admit, I am still feeling the effects of it now. However, that doesn’t mean that I can’t still teach you more than a few things to make you an even more effective attacker. Good teachers don’t seek to train their students to be as good as they are, they seek to make them better.”

I was shocked by his honesty, and mulled over his words all the way to the portal for my session with Jacoby Bryant. I even half-imagined that my trip through the portal was less nausea inducing than usual because I was so caught up in thinking about what he’d said and how he’d acted. I’d certainly been warming to Thomas since the previous week, but now I was wondering if I’d gotten him completely wrong. Sure, he’d been rude when I’d first arrived, but then maybe he’d had good reason to be. I tried to imagine what it would have been like down in Cornwall if some unknown mage had shown up because the Brethren had ordered us to teach them to be like shifters. Even for myself as a non-shifter, I knew I’d have been disgusted.

Entering the reception area, and seeing exactly the same girl who I’d barked at and flamed at the week before, made me also half-expect to see Corrigan striding through from round the corridor again. However, this time the girl stayed behind the desk and I felt the briefest flicker of disappointment that the only other person I’d clearly be seeing this time would be the counsellor himself. I told myself that I should be grateful: the last thing I needed was to see the Lord Alpha before our so-called date. He’d probably just make some snarky comments about my attire. Nope, I didn’t want or need to see him. Definitely not. No. No. No.

I discussed with Bryant what had happened during the preceding seven days, leaving out any mention of my now somewhat more doused bloodfire of course, and we spoke about what had worked and what hadn’t. He was pleased with my progress and I felt an unexpected thrill zip through me at doing so well. Perhaps there was hope for me yet. He recommended that I continue with the techniques he’d already shown me, and then I left without further incident.

However, the next morning, when I awoke, I could feel little spikes of flame flickering through my toes and fingers. I lay in bed for several moments, ignoring the discomfort it provided, purely trying to calm myself down and use all the tips I’d been given. Despite the numerous talks Alex and I had had about how to act once I got to Kingsway, I was still feeling nervous and more than a little scared about how it would pan out. I really didn’t want to let him down, but stealing from the undead right now seemed like a suicide mission. I imagined myself keeling over at Corrigan’s feet in dramatic dying swan fashion, and him raising one sardonic eyebrow at me for bringing it all onto my own head in the first place. For one thing, I still didn’t actually have anything to wear. Despite his promises to the contrary, Alex still hadn’t come through with a suitable outfit. At this rate I’d have to squeeze back into Deborah’s micro-mini, which remained under my bed as I’d not quite managed to guiltily sneak back into the laundry yet.

A knock at the door startled me out of my reverie. I reached over and twisted the doorknob, swinging it open to see who it was.

“Hey! Baldi…I mean, Mack! How’s it going? Ready for the big date?” It was Mary, with Deborah in tow. Naturally, they’d gotten wind of my impending evening.

I forced myself up to a sitting position. “I can’t wait.”

Mary shot me a look of suspicion at my unenthusiastic comment. “You know, the reason why you are feeling like this, Mack, is because you haven’t yet been beautified.”

Uh, say what?

Deborah grinned at me. “We’ve spoken to the boys and they’ve agreed that it’s fine to put off today’s training session till tomorrow. So we have all day to help you get ready for this evening.” Her eyes gleamed in anticipation.

“All day?” My mouth hung half-open. Really? How long did it take to have a bloody shower? It wasn’t exactly as if I had any fucking hair that needed doing. “I don’t think…,” I began, before Mary placed her finger on my lips, shushing me.

“That’s enough. You can thank us later.”

I tried to think quickly. If I could hunt down and defeat the various nasties that the Otherworld had to offer, then surely I could find a way to extricate myself from two girls. “I can’t get ready yet,” I said triumphantly, seizing upon a reason. “I don’t have anything to wear.” ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">