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“What’s wrong with you?” Hunter asked, coming up behind me as I tried to decide if I was going to center myself so that I could fight effectively…or run for my life.

“Nothing. Why?”

“You’re tense all of a sudden.” He dropped a hand to my shoulder and I flinched, underlining his point. “You look worried about something.”

I glanced around. “No one else seems to think so.”

He leaned so close his breath stirred my hair. “No one else was living inside you a few hours ago.”

I swallowed hard, and looked away. Not just my body. My bloodstream and marrow. My heart and soul. We could all intuit moods more easily than mortals-with most people it was as simple as reading a magazine. Flip a page and the emotion was simply revealed there. Agents had the ability to disguise their emotions more easily too, synthetic compounds and strong wills helped with that-but he was right. I could still feel his warmth inside me, and I didn’t doubt it was the same for him.

“That’s why I wanted to be partnered with you.”

“Micah will have your back.”

Micah didn’t know my life was in his hands. Hunter felt my anxiety spike again at the thought.

“Why are you suddenly so afraid?”

Just tell him.

Tell him that I could now be injured and killed? And then he’d report it to Warren, who’d lock me away and treat me as shittily as he did Kimber. Like a nuisance, something that gave drag, deadweight to be discarded at the first given opportunity. And in spite of my wishes and the soft feelings Hunter had for me-perhaps even because of them-he’d support it. No, thank you.

I shrugged, but the movement was too jerky. “I just wish I had a conduit, you know?”

“The best offense is a good defense,” he said, unfurling a black, barbed whip. It was as wicked looking as the other conduits, though it gave Hunter a reach they didn’t have. Great. Now I had to keep from getting killed by my lover.

“Then a good offense,” I muttered, as he left to confer with Felix, “is massive artillery.”

We paired up, taking on cross-angles in the giant room, and I worked on settling myself. I could do this. This was training. Not remotely as difficult or dangerous as the battles I’d survived over the past year. I’d fight, deflect, and gain ground for Micah, and if it looked like I was going to be hit or overpowered, I’d either duck behind the giant man, or call the match. None of my allies was going to keep pounding at me if I called a truce, right?

We turned our back to the others, and Micah stretched, lifting his arms over his head. I looked straight up at ten feet of agent of Light. And Hunter thought he had reach.

“You’ve just gotta cover me,” Micah reassured, as if I didn’t know.

I gave him an obvious once over, from head to toe. “That’s a big fucking wall.”

We turned, looking at Tekla, as did the others. She remained supremely still, waiting until everyone was steeled in their stances, conduits palmed.

“Make the walls invisible,” Micah muttered from the side of his mouth. “That should buy us some time, and an advantage.”

Tekla jerked her head, a short nod, and we were off. Suddenly bodies whipped through the air, sticking in pairs as Warren decreed, individual strength doubled. As the weakest team, Micah and I were the biggest targets but this surprisingly worked to our advantage. Two of the three teams collided on their way to beat me down, which left Gregor and Jewell for us. I timed my first invisible wall perfectly and Gregor face-planted like a cartoon character. Micah actually laughed before lunging at the junior agent.

You had to give it to Jewell. Seven feet of big, mean motherfucker coming at her, and she only flinched a little. She had to wait until he got in close; her cover in the mortal world was that of a schoolteacher…and a party girl. In both instances, a set of fisted keys were not out of place…but Jewell’s keys locked around her knuckles once laced together, and each was honed to a lethal point. It still wasn’t an even match, not with Micah’s experience making his blade work extra dangerous, but she was fortunate enough to also be considered paranoid in the mortal world. So she had two sets of keys, one for each fist, in contrast to Micah’s sole weapon. In his mind, this clearly made them even. He swiped.

But by this time Gregor had ducked my wall, and his eyes flicked from Micah to me, first assessing…then knowing. Knock me out, and Micah would be his. Fortunately, Riddick came from nowhere to cut Gregor off with a leap and an agile slash of his hooked blade, which connected…and pulled Gregor’s web of protection free. It shimmered as it stretched from his body…then fell. Gregor leapt to safety, calling out his apologies as he left Jewell alone, and I turned my attention to Riddick.

“Box him in!” Micah called, as Jewell backed up. Riddick heard Micah’s orders, of course, but it was still a good idea. He, too, had to get in close, as his conduit wasn’t anything he could risk throwing.

The biggest problem now was Riddick’s partner, Tekla. Sure, this aptly illustrated the effectiveness of working in teams, but I was too busy trying to stay alive to appreciate it. She pointed her weapon at me, and the anchor imbedded in my wall so fast I was surprised I managed to raise it in time. She retracted the anchor, my wall fell, and we countered again. My wall shook this time. Fuck, she was strong. I doubled up, bent and crossed over my own body to shield Micah from Riddick…and that’s when I hit my groove.

If you’ve trained hard enough-and if you last long enough-there’s a point in every altercation where muscle memory takes over. It’s like a pilot getting everything set, then giving the plane over to autopilot. Make the right move at the right time and suddenly your whole being-body and thought and will-snaps into alignment. It’s the same feeling athletes get when they’re “in the zone.” I whirled, feinted, and suddenly my body was singing.

My stance was wide, arms extended full length, and I circled Micah, keeping close as I deflected left and then right, crossing arms, and at times, not even glancing in the direction of my deflections. I put up a wall so strong Tekla’s anchor got stuck. I held it, and another, while delivering a back kick that sent Jewell barreling into Hunter’s range. I erected walls that were both vertical and horizontal, climbing them, leaping twenty feet in the air…certainly no longer the weakest link.

Riddick decided to follow my lead, and drove up a wall between himself and Micah, then dropped it before charging the bigger, slower man. I raised another at the last second, buying Micah time and space to fall back, and when Tekla tried to do the same for Riddick, I flipped my wrist so that my wall spread horizontally, splicing her visible one so that it rose only to waist height. She gasped and turned on me, wide-eyed. Micah leapt, I kept the surface as strong as a table, and he dispatched Riddick with a single, deft slice.

Then Hunter’s whip appeared out of nowhere, and I screamed. The reaction was inappropriate-I was nowhere near the conduit, but had yelled as if I were-so Hunter’s head jerked my way, but it was already too late. The whip snapped and Micah’s protectant went down. Hunter, seeing the vulnerability, stood down so that Micah could clear the floor without mortal injury. Micah leapt, dropping f-bombs as he soared from the battle area, and Felix-Hunter’s partner-immediately began advancing upon me.

“Shit.” I backed up, knowing my fear was pumping out pheromones inappropriate for a training exercise, but I wasted no energy trying to stop them. Felix scented it, and like a Viking berserker in the throes of battle-lust, his eyes glazed over with martial fury. I slammed up three vertical walls in quick succession, which was a drain on my energy, and with every additional shield, the previous ones weakened. I whimpered.