Free Twice Bitten by Chloe Neill Page B

moment, but when I raised a hand to block a shot I was sure was headed toward my face, he grabbed my wrist, then yanked me toward him until my body was snug against the long line of his.
    My heart tripped.
    We stood there in darkness, my mind absorbed by the feel of one of his hands around my wrist, the other pressed to the small of my back.
    Ethan was tall enough that the top of my head just reached his chin. I kept my gaze level with his collarbone—afraid that if I looked up, he’d use the move as an excuse to look down. Our lips would align, and that would be the end of me.
    Slowly—treacherously slowly—he lowered his head, his lips against my hair. Goose bumps rose on my arms; my eyes drifted closed; my skin tingled with an intoxicating combination of lust and power. We were leaking magic again, the sharp, bright prickle of it filling the space Ethan and I occupied.
    That was when my eyes flashed open, as I realized what he’d been trying to teach me.
    He let me loose my hands, and I pressed one palm against his chest to push him back a few steps. He moved willingly and gave me space to learn.
    I couldn’t see in the dark, and I certainly couldn’t hear with the din of noise around us . . . but just as I’d done a moment ago, I could sense the magic in the air. That punch hadn’t been a fluke. Detecting magic was a different kind of sight, but it was a kind of sight just the same.
    There, in the dark, a few steps in front of him, I lifted a hand and trailed my fingers over the electric currents around us, feeling the bumps and ridges of magic as it leaked from our bodies. I could sense the knotted mix of our magic in the space between us, and the slow fade of sensation the farther I drew my fingers away.
    I let my fingers rise and fall as the pressure shifted, not unlike sticking a hand outside a moving car’s window.
    Most important, the current shifted as he moved, creating a breezy tingle beneath my fingers. I felt him move to my right, body straight as he faced me and then aimed a roundhouse kick at my face.
    It was his favorite move, and he’d signaled it perfectly.
    I dropped low, and as he came around I offered up my own roundhouse, a low kick that brought his other leg out from beneath him.
    He hit the ground.
    As if by his silent command, the music went off, and the lights came on. I blinked into the sudden vacuum of noise and the brightness of the overhead lights.
    The room, the audience, was completely silent, probably absorbed by the sight of the Sentinel on her feet—and their Master on the ground.
    I wouldn’t call it a victory. After all, I only really tripped him.
    But that was something. It wasn’t everything, but it was a step forward.
    Ethan put his hands behind him, then lifted his legs, rolled his body weight, and flipped onto his feet. He slid me a glance.
    I swallowed, not entirely comfortable that I’d put my Master on the floor again, even if I had eventually come to learn the lesson he’d been trying to teach.
    Then his expression softened.
    “Better,” he said.
    I bowed respectfully, the student thanking the teacher for a lesson well taught. That lesson done, it was time to move on to the next crisis. “When do we leave for the pre-meeting?”
    “In an hour. Get changed and meet me in the basement.”
    I nodded, then walked back to the edge of the mat and grabbed my T-shirt, shoes, and, most crucial, my katana. I assumed I was going to need it.

CHAPTER FIVE

    BOYS’ NIGHT OUT
    “ W hat do you wear if you’re playing security for alpha shape-shifters?”
    I stood in front of my open closet in a robe, but glanced back at Lindsey, who sat cross-legged on my bed, a bag of strawberry licorice sticks in her lap.
    “Nothing at all?” she said with a grin.
    “I’m wearing clothes.”
    “Spoilsport. But if you’re going to play prude, might as well play sexy prude. Didn’t you say Gabriel mentioned leather?”
    The snark aside, she had a point. After all, I did own a set