Free Devotion by Kristie Cook Page A

film, ready to fight in a tournament or take on his self-righteous teacher. In other words, he looked delicious.
     "I'm supposed to concentrate with you in that?" Tristan asked, his eyes traveling up and down my body. I couldn't help it. I shivered.
    "Ditto," I muttered and forced myself to tear my eyes from his very bare, very lickable chest. I contemplated our feet instead. "But no shoes or boots?"
    "Not necessary yet," Charlotte answered as we returned to the main room. She stood by a hanging bag. "So, we start small and we'll get as far as we can, while we can. I could be called to the field again at any time. Tristan can always take over for me, but it's easier to have us both here."
    "Okay, then let's do it." I had nowhere else to be except with Rina, so the sooner we finished today's training, the sooner I could work with Rina and the sooner I would learn about the mysterious girl.
    We started with various punches: jabs, hooks, crosses and uppercuts, as well as martial arts chops and strikes. Tristan demonstrated the moves and Charlotte watched my form.
    "Some inaugural meeting for the two of us, huh?" Charlotte asked as I practiced my right hook.
    "Hmph," I grunted as my fist slammed into the bag. "Are they always so intense?"
    "Martin says they can be. I guess it's better than boring. I could have killed Sophia for making me go to those meetings."
    An "I know" almost slipped from my lips, which would have required an explanation, so I simply hummed in agreement.
    "I think she did it just so she wouldn't have to be alone with all of them," Char continued as she circled me and the punching bag, eyeing my technique as I threw the punches. "They can get … intense, as you said. Especially when it comes to the next daughter."
    "So I noticed," I muttered.
    "Now practice with your left," she said.
    I threw what I thought was a left hook. Tristan said it was more of a jab and showed me the correct way, then put me to work, repeating the move.
    "I don't see why they're so uptight about another daughter," Charlotte went on. "If Rina and Sophia say it's going to happen, we need to let it happen when it's supposed to. Otherwise …"
    I slowed my moves when she didn't finish. "Otherwise what?"
    She tapped her finger against her lips. "Well, there's a reason Dorian came by himself, right?"
    I stopped my punches and stared at her.
    "Charlotte," I said, "do you know Chandra very well?"
    "Sure. I often work under her when I'm in India or the surrounding area. Why?"
    "She mentioned something about Dorian not going to the Daemoni."
    Char pressed her lips together and nodded. "Some people want to believe that. In fact, some think he might even be able to lead the Amadis."
    " What? " My eyebrows flew up. I glanced at Tristan, but skepticism darkened his eyes.
    "Martin has mentioned it, but I don't see how. We've always been a matriarchal society." She shrugged. "It's not my forte and it's pointless to speculate. My job, at least for now, is to teach you how to protect yourself. Tristan, let's show her some kicks."
    After I practiced a variety of kicks, we moved on to combination moves. At first it was exhilarating, even fun, but eventually it became tedious as they made me practice the same moves over and over again. My body, into the rhythm, did everything on its own, while my mind wandered, thinking about Dorian, the council meeting, the "voices" and what the one said about the girl. Then I thought about Rina and wanting to work with her instead of doing these silly exercises.
    "Alexis!" Tristan's bark snapped me out of it. "Pay attention!"
    My mind returned to my surroundings. The punching bag I'd been working with swung violently on its chain, its insides bursting out of a huge hole.
    "Did I do that?" I asked, jumping out of its way as it swung toward me.
    "Yes! Because you're not focused." Tristan's angry growl bemused me.
    "I'm sorry. I'll fix–"
    "The bag's not a problem," Charlotte said, her voice much calmer than Tristan's as