The Force of Wind
Page 54

“Hit me!”
“What are you—” A flurry of water pounded her. Beatrice tried to block each surge, but they soon knocked her to the ground. In a flash, Baojia had grabbed a sword and had the edge pressed against her neck.
“And you’re dead.”
She shoved the blade away, ignoring the bite of the blade against her skin, crawling to her knees and glaring at him as the blood rushed through her veins. Anger reared up and her fangs descended. “What do you want from me?” She felt her amnis swirl along her skin, out of control as her fists clenched. The water in the air quivered around her.
“You’re more powerful than they realize, but you’re not using it.”
“What?”
“Instinct,” he spat out. “You’re still a human in vampire skin. Your muscles know these patterns, but your mind hasn’t caught up. If Lorenzo attacked you tomorrow, he would kill you. Let your instincts take over and fight!”
“You want me to fight?”
“Yes!”
“Fine!” She hopped up and took a deep breath. She stood in her normal ready stance, but Baojia only sneered.
“Such a cute little girl, Mrs. Vecchio.”
A thin red veil fell over her eyes, the fangs grew long in her mouth, and she felt her amnis pulse. Her heart beat its own unique rhythm, no longer bound by the trappings of biology. She felt the water in the air around her. Beatrice stopped concentrating on moving her limbs deliberately, as she had in tai chi, and just felt.
Baojia was crouched across from her.
“Hit me.”
She let the amnis flow down her arm. Her fist landed in a blur, and Beatrice grinned.
He wiped the trickle of blood from the corner of his lip and smirked.
They started circling faster. She bent over, weaving back and forth, ready to strike. The amnis took over her limbs, and she began to move even faster, dipping and bending. In the back of her mind, she realized she was moving in ways she never would have attempted as a human, but there was no pain.
“Faster,” he whispered.
She spun faster. Punching. Kicking. Flips and rolls did not challenge her immortal body.
It was effortless, she realized, as she took a deep, unnecessary breath. Her body was made for this. Her limbs moved without thought, the long practiced muscle memory colliding with her amnis as she moved in her own lethal ballet. Her amnis crackled as the water in the air was drawn to her, creating a thin sheen over her skin.
She flipped toward him, and her foot struck his face before she rolled away and shot up again. He sent another stream of water toward her, but she lifted a hand and blocked it with ease. Beatrice crouched down and swept his legs from under him before she rolled away. Then Baojia leapt on her shoulders. She bent back, nearly folding in half until he lost his grip and rolled away.
He reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her back to his chest. She could feel his cool breath at her neck.
“More,” he whispered.
A swift hunger rose in her, and she thought of the blood dripping to the ground from her cracked mug. She wanted more.
More blood.
More fight.
More…
She bared her fangs, hissing as he shoved her away.
Beatrice stumbled for only a second before she was on her feet, spinning into a kick that landed near Baojia’s ear. She smiled as her heart raced. She heard the door to the practice room swing open and was distracted for a second when she saw Giovanni enter. Baojia’s kick landed on her jaw, knocking her back as she heard a snarl rip from her mate’s throat.
A heartbeat later, she had been shoved back, and Giovanni pounced on Baojia, rolling across the floor in a tangle of limbs as the fire flared on his back and arms. She sent a wave of water over the two vampires, who were twisted in a growling heap.
Baojia pulled away and the two immortals began to circle each other. The water vampire’s shirt was half torn from his body, and Beatrice could see burns healing at his neck. Giovanni eyed him, snarling as he placed himself between Beatrice and the perceived threat.
Beatrice knew instinctively that Baojia had triggered Giovanni’s most territorial instincts, and she shook her head, trying to clear her mind so the practice session didn’t end in death or serious injury. With her blood roiling, she was having difficulty focusing on anything other than the rippling muscle that spread over her mate’s back, bared through the burned shirt and dripping water from the shower she had thrown at him. She could already see steam rising from his skin as his ire spiked.
Giovanni was magnificent. Pulsing energy and raw power. Beatrice could sense the amnis surge over his body. She could see the low flames licking along his chest. She could hear his blood roaring in her ears and smell the smoke pouring off his skin.
“Gio,” she breathed out.
His head lifted and his eyes darted toward her voice and scent. Baojia leapt on him, but Giovanni only batted him across the room before he moved toward her, nostrils flared and fight forgotten as the blue flames swirled along his arms.
Not a word passed his lips when she pounced on him. Beatrice heard the hiss as her damp skin met his burning arms. He grabbed her, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips and burning through the cloth that covered her before he strode toward the doors. As they sped down the hall, she saw Baojia, watching them with bared fangs from the door of the practice room. He narrowed his eyes and glared before he ran in the opposite direction.
They reached their chamber door, and Giovanni kicked it open.
“Fight later,” he growled before he slammed it shut.