Liza rolled her eyes as she came to her feet and gave her arms a loose shake to relax her stiffening muscles.
“Take it easy with those paws of yours,” she ordered the other girl. “Hell, my arms still ache.”
“Sissy. Stop wussing out on me.”
Wussing out on her?
Liza glared back at her.
She had yet to wuss out on anything.
Watching Emma carefully, she was able to dodge the first set of jabs as well as Emma’s attempt to trip her.
Liza focused her memory on the fight she’d managed to glimpse between Diane Broen and one of her former mercenaries. She concentrated on coordinating her movements to match the practiced symmetry the Bureau enforcer had used.
Why hadn’t she tried that before? she wondered distantly.
She’d watched enough Breeds sparring over the years that she should have already been incorporating what she’d watched them do.
She blocked Emma’s next attempt to grab and throw her to the mat. As though she had slipped into someone else’s skin, she began moving automatically. Blocking, jabbing, moving offensively instead of defensively until she had Emma actually breaking a sweat.
She had watched the Breeds—Cullen, Reever, and Klah—sparring for most of her life, and had resisted the urge to attempt to use the maneuvers she’d seen. Her body always felt ready, prepared to execute the moves, but her confidence in putting into practice what she had seen without training, had held her back.
Until tonight.
Until the urge to do so overcame her lack of confidence and she learned she had a talent she’d never recognized before. It was a talent she realized she’d had since her and Claire’s accident. The fiery car crash had nearly taken both of their lives, and had left each with subtle talents that for some reason they were terrified to reveal. Talents they had only shared the secrets of with each other.
“Geez,” Emma muttered as Liza blocked another move and came back at her quickly with an offensive jab to her jaw, then followed with one to the midriff.
Emma barely had time to block before awareness of another move slid into Liza’s consciousness and went straight to the instinctive impulses snapping through her brain then to her body.
Emma sent a jab to her jaw. Sweeping back and going to the floor, Liza caught herself on her shoulders and arms, legs swinging out as she rolled and swept Emma off balance.
As the Breed went down, Liza was there, her fist coming in and stopping short of Emma’s throat in what would have been a killing blow for a human. For a Breed, at the very least, it would cause a lengthy incapacitation, giving Liza a chance to escape.
As Liza blinked down at the shock in Emma’s face, she quickly jumped back, stared down at her hands, then to the Breeds and two friends watching her in wide-eyed disbelief.
In Claire’s eyes though, Liza saw fear—and a desperate warning.
Fear that the minute changes they had experienced after their recovery would be detected and alter them in the eyes of their loved ones.
The warning that she was skirting the line and placing them both in danger.
“Who the fuck are you and where did Liza go?” Emma sat up slowly, her gaze narrowed.
“I told you she was holding back,” Shiloh crowed in triumph as her mocking laughter filled the basement. “What have I been telling you for months and you couldn’t see it? Every damned time she could have shown she was picking up these damned moves she would back off like a scared little baby.”
“I never showed her that move.” Emma watched Liza as though she were a particularly complicated puzzle.
“Neither did I,” Ashley stated.
“No, we didn’t. But have you forgotten what Liza does for fun? She buys fighting videos and practices without us. I told you all along she was going to kick your asses one day when you least expected it.”
The suspicion, thank God. Oh, thank God. It eased from Ashley’s and Emma’s gaze as Shiloh’s explanation sank in.
Chelsea shook her head in amazement as Claire slowly began to relax.
“I watch Breeds fight too,” she reminded them all. “Their sparring sessions can get real interesting.”
“It can’t be easy sparring alone though,” Emma pointed out, a frown beginning to mar her brow.
“Tell me about it,” Liza breathed out roughly as she collapsed on the mat and took a deep breath. “Do you have any idea how many bruises I’ve gotten down here?”
It wasn’t a lie. There was no deceit in the statement. That part was easy to cover, especially when she was able to hide her face against her knees and simply concentrate on breathing.
One breath in, one out. One in, one out.
“Well, hell, I can actually tell Link now you’re just about ready.” Emma gave a short nod. “Claire will take a little longer, but she’s getting there.”
“I’ll so obviously not be on the front lines,” Claire said in amusement. “I prefer driving anyway.”
And there, Claire was excelling.
“Yeah, she has like fucking mad driving skills,” Ashley exclaimed in sudden excitement. “She’ll never lose control of a vehicle again.”
The sudden reminder had Liza taking in a hard breath. Her head jerked up, eyes opening wide.
She didn’t want to see that memory flashing through her mind again, or feel what she had felt when she had seen the darkness of death opening up around her.
She could swear she’d heard the wails of the dead. And it wasn’t a white light she’d seen. It had been darkness. Nothingness. Such a void of complete nothing that it had rocked her soul.
The same sight Claire had faced as the car exploded around them, the force of the blast blowing the doors open and throwing them from the vehicle seconds before flames had engulfed it.
“Okay, shower.” Liza jumped to her feet, feeling the sticky residue of perspiration drying on her flesh. “How about pizza?” she asked the others. “We could phone in the order before we shower and eat it hot.”
The others called out their agreement in unison as Chelsea, Claire and Liza headed upstairs to shower.
The four Breed females made their way to the gym-style shower that had been built into the house by the owners before they’d moved, who had left the three-bedroom rancher with a finished basement intended to serve as a fully functional gym.
Liza called in the pizza order before heading into her bedroom and quickly stripping.
Stepping into the shower, she let the hot water wash away not just the memories she didn’t want resurfacing again, but also that irritating sensation just beneath the flesh in each area Emma’s hands had gripped her during their sparring.
She felt bruised to the bone in several areas; in others, it felt as though the Breed’s touch had somehow become allergic.
It wasn’t until she’d showered, dried and dressed in loose cotton pants and a T-shirt that she began to feel human once again.
She was quickly twisting an elastic band into the damp strands of her braided hair when a horrified scream pierced the silence of the house.
“Claire!” A breath of fear rushed from her lungs as Liza felt the sweeping autopilot sensation rush through her once again.
She didn’t rush.
Claire screamed again, but as though she were watching someone else, Liza quickly slid open her dresser drawer to retrieve the laser-guided, laser-powered, ammo-loaded side arm her father had given her after Isabelle had been attacked by Holden Mayhew.
The distance between her and her actions slowly receded until she was moving, blessedly no longer watching herself, to her bedroom door. Flipping out the lights, Liza jerked open the door and went out in a roll, her gaze sweeping over the room.
Claire’s cry was weaker this time, the sound of a struggle in a room indicating the danger her friend was in.