Bloodlust Ch. 06

A week had passed since Theo had placed the wards on her mind, and Eve could finally accept that she was free of Ari's influence. Finally, she was alone in her head, with no meddling vampires, warlocks, or anyone else with unpleasant intentions.

Pending a conclusion to the investigation, she and Luke were still withdrawn from active duty and instead had been assigned as demonstrators for the younger classes. Maybe it was a punishment for their failures, or maybe the academy was just short on teaching staff.

Luke looked strangely impassive, leaning against the wall of the training room with his eyes focused straight ahead. A cautious, withdrawn shadow had crossed over him these last few days.

"Good afternoon, hunters," Professor Darrow's voice cut through the crowded room, "Today, we're diving into the practical side of what you've been learning all year. It's time to see those theories put into action."

Eve forgot how much she had missed Professor Darrow. Between him and Ramsey, she had grown up with a strong sense of purpose and a solid head on her shoulders. He wasn't the paternal type - but he had the uncanny ability to put people on edge and inspire respect at the same time. Even as a graduated hunter with successful kills under her belt, she didn't want to disappoint him.

His tall, heavily built frame gave him an instant air of authority. His hair was cropped close to the skull, revealing tattoos crawling across his scalp that were difficult to make out. To someone who didn't know him well, he was intimidating. To someone who did, he was petrifying.

"Eve and Luke," Darrow continued, "Are here to help us understand the real-world applications of the techniques and concepts you've been honing this year. They are both recently graduated hunters who have been on several successful missions."

Eve and Luke exchanged glances. As they took their positions on the training mats at the center of the room, the class hushed in anticipation. The temperature in the room was oppressive, students already beginning to strip their coats and shoes off.

Professor Darrow stood several paces away from them, his gaze sharp.

Darrow addressed them, "It's not just about overpowering your opponent but about knowing when to yield and when to strike."

Eve felt hot. Unlike the class, garbed in white, she and Luke were wearing black, a symbol of their graduated status. Eve was dwarfed by the wide sleeves of her uniform, the legs of her pants loose around her ankles. A thick leather belt encircled her waist, cinching together the copious fabric and sporting a large collection of knives. She pulled a particularly wicked, curved blade into her hand.

Luke and Eve began to circle each other, looking for an opening. At Darrow's prompting, they engaged in a series of moves he had discussed with them beforehand -- blocks, strikes, and evasions. The room resonated with the echo of their footsteps and the slice of steel flying through the air.

"Observe closely," Professor Darrow instructed, his voice cutting through the intensity. "Eve demonstrates a wrist-lock, a fundamental move to restrain your opponent without causing harm. Luke, counter with a disarming technique."

Eve's movements were swift, her body fluid and highly practiced. Luke, in turn, was powerful but unfocused, letting his weight crash in full behind each of his moves. The students watched, absorbing the nuances of each move. Eve eased up on Luke, unsure if he was out of practice or afraid to hurt her.

Luke lunged, aiming for Eve's knife. His balance shifted too far forward, giving her an opportunity to maneuver beneath his arm. He fell to the floor with a soft grunt, his breath leaving his chest.

Professor Darrow commanded. "Again."

Eve and Luke rose and reset their positions. This time, Eve moved more quickly, forcing him to react defensively. She struck, landing the hit on his wrist and following with her other arm to disarm him. His knife skidded across the mats and out of reach.

"Ground combat," Darrow said, directing their attention to the mat. "No weapons. Eve, Luke, let's see your proficiency in close-quarters combat." Eve wondered if the professor was deliberately challenging Luke.

They discarded all their weapons. Eve fixed her ponytail. She gave Luke a small smile, trying to ease his nerves. He looked back at her and gave a nod in return.

Professor Darrow nodded with approval, "Now pay attention, see their communication? Trust between hunting partners is crucial. Even if, in this case, they're fighting each other."

Luke moved first and she was ready for him, blocking his attack with ease. Eve's eyes flashed, her lips slowly curling into a grin. The excitement of a good fight quelled any concerns she might have had. She struck out hard, landing a solid hit against Luke's shoulder.

"Nice one," he grunted, shaking his head.

Eve whispered, "You're going easy on me, Luke. I know you can do more than that."

Luke assented, moving in faster than she could react and sending her off balance. He tackled her to the ground. They wrestled, struggling for control. The air was thick with excitement, the students holding their breath as they watched the match. Luke managed to pin Eve, straddling her and pressing his forearm against her throat.

"Well done," Darrow said.

Eve responded with lightning-fast motion. She grabbed his free wrist, trapping one of his feet with her foot on the same side. He tried to wrench out of her grip but she bridged her hips up, rolling him onto the side where she had his limbs trapped. He fell to the floor with a thud, their positions reversed. Her hips now straddled his, her thighs locking his arms in place.

"I see you haven't forgotten what I taught you," Professor Darrow praised her.

Eve was breathing hard, her weight settled squarely on Luke, who was regarding her with a faint smile. She quickly released him and got up, smoothing the dark fabric of her uniform. She offered him a hand and he took it after a moment of hesitation. His skin was hot and sweaty.

Darrow watched in approval. "Eve demonstrated how to take an opponent down from a disadvantageous position. For most of you, if you're in this position, your goal is to disengage. If that's not possible, an aggressive maneuver will work but you need to be willing to utilize that position of power. Now, if Luke were a vampire, he'd be incapacitated right now."

"He would be dead," Eve added, earning a small laugh from some of the students.

Darrow ran a hand across his stubble. "One final sparring match," he said, "Luke, stand back. I want the students to see how well Eve can hold her own."

The students murmured in excitement as Darrow himself kicked off his shoes and stepped onto the mat.

He rolled his sleeves up above his elbows, revealing heavily-scarred forearms. His face was impassive, and Eve couldn't tell if he was actually taking pleasure in this or not. He stood nearly a foot taller than her, his form imposing. She stretched her arms and legs, feeling her heart thumping into gear.

She'd never fought a professor before, and it was considered a sign of great respect to be paired against one. Other than minor adjustments or demonstrations, fighting instructors didn't step onto the mats. Eve flushed as she considered the position she'd been put into. A loss would hurt her reputation, but a victory would be the greatest insult she could afford him. He expected her to lose. Her mind raced: so why had he challenged her? To put her in her place? To test her? Or was it really just a demonstration?

He'd been her instructor for seven years; he already knew exactly what she was capable of. Most of the professors prized her as one of their best students, so it had come as a surprise to the entire academy that she of all hunters would have failed a mission so completely. It was possible that he wanted to understand what went wrong. With his analytical mind, she supposed he was looking for weaknesses in her technique, a chink in the armor that had allowed Ari to prevail.

The crowd was quiet, all eyes focused on the match. They'd all presumably heard about the incident with Ari, and had wanted to see this disgraced hunter with their own eyes. She had something to prove. Eve took a deep breath to steady herself. She reminded herself that she'd been in more dangerous situations than this.

"Whenever you're ready," Professor Darrow said.

With that, she launched into motion, her steps swift. Darrow matched her moves easily, and they circled each other. He struck hard and she barely managed to block him, his arm slamming into hers and knocking her off-balance. She could tell by his movements that he wasn't pulling his punches.

She lunged and feinted to the side, trying to bait him. He saw through it immediately. His swing caught her by surprise, his fist connecting hard with her stomach. She bit her lip to avoid crying out, giving him a wide berth as she recovered her senses. She could taste the iron tang of blood.

He struck out again, and this time she was able to dodge, using the momentum to kick him. She aimed for his thigh, hoping the contact would make him lose his balance. Instead, his other hand shot out, gripping her ankle. He yanked, her leg swept out from under her. She fell, her knee smacking against the mat, pain lancing up her spine.

She rolled onto her knees and stood too quickly. She swung for him again, still unsteady on her feet, and he easily sidestepped it and clipped her on the cheek. She was getting frustrated, her attacks proving fruitless against his strength and training. He wasn't even breaking a sweat.

"If this were a real fight, you would be dead by now," Darrow commented. Eve's hands balled into fists at her side.

She steeled her quickly then took a risk, darting straight towards him. No feinting, no tricks. She used her speed to duck under his arm, swinging around and aiming a blow at his kidney. The contact was solid, and she heard his grunt of pain.

He responded with no mercy, his elbow striking her back and knocking her flat. She cried out as she hit the ground with his weight crashing down on top of her. They grappled for a moment, Eve at a disadvantage from the surprise, until he had her crushed beneath him on the floor. She could feel his breath on the back of her neck. She could smell his sweat now, musky and sharp. He had one hand clutched at her throat, fingers pressing into the grooves of her jugular.

He leaned in, his voice meant for her ears only, "Do you yield?"

Her eyes squeezed shut, her teeth clenched. He tightened his grip on her throat, his other hand forcing her wrists behind her back, not allowing her to pull away. The room was suddenly silent, everyone's attention focused on the two of them.

Eve felt her vision blur slightly, dark spots appearing. She tried to wiggle out from under him but she couldn't think straight with her brain scrambling for oxygen.

"Do you yield?" he repeated, louder this time. His voice was hard. She couldn't break free, no matter how hard she tried; she felt her body starting to panic and scramble uselessly. He continued to hold her, his body taut with restraint.

She was angry, and tired. Tired of fighting when she was so often overpowered. No. Submitting was not an option, and he wouldn't really kill her... would he? Her vision wavered once, twice.

Suddenly, she was breathing again. A gasp escaped her lips as she gulped in air, filling her lungs with precious oxygen. She lay on the mat, trying to regain her bearings, feeling Darrow's weight lift off of her. The ceiling seemed like it was tilting and careening above her.

She heard voices but couldn't understand what was being said. After a moment, sounds shifted back into focus. "Everyone, break up into pairs and practice sparring. I want to see perfect disarming techniques. Come on, we've been working on this for weeks." She could hear Darrow spurring his class into action, "I mean now! Miles, Kennedy. Move."

Eve lifted herself up onto her elbows, closing her eyes for a moment to quell the headrush. She squinted against the bright lights as she looked up at Luke approaching. He crouched beside her, his brown eyes both concerned and amused.

"You're an idiot." He said simply.

"Thanks," Eve replied, her voice scratchy.

Luke reached his hand down and helped her up. The other students had gone back to their respective exercises, though a few curious glances were still thrown her way. Eve dusted herself off, her body throbbing. She would be bruised all over.

Darrow was watching her intently, his gaze piercing. Luke handed her water bottle and she accepted it, the cold liquid both soothing and sharp. She cleared her throat.

"Your instincts are excellent," Darrow told Eve, "You're quick, and you don't give up. But your lack of restraint makes you reckless. It'll get you killed one day. You have to be smart, and you have to choose your battles. Do you understand me?"

She nodded, looking down. "Yes, sir."

He glanced at Luke, who had been watching the exchange. "Now, I have a class to teach. You're both dismissed."

***

"What the hell was that, Eve?" Luke said as soon as they were out of earshot. They stopped in the hallway and Luke ran his hands through his hair repeatedly.

Eve rubbed at the sore marks around her throat, "Nothing."

"That wasn't nothing," Luke argued, "He nearly crushed your windpipe."

"It's Darrow, Luke. He just about killed Aiden during fourth year. This wasn't even a fraction of that." She still remembered the color bleaching out of Aiden's eyes, bright blue fading as though covered by frosted glass. His body slack, tremors coursing through.

"That was a punishment," Luke reminded her, "This was just a demonstration."

"It was a test," Eve sighed.

"A test of what? To see how long you could hold your breath?"

"I know Darrow. He just wants to understand why I couldn't kill Ari."

"From where I was sitting, it was a ridiculous power play. It was a show for the class." Luke was shaking his head, but he paused and looked at her, a change coming over him. "Are you okay?"

"I'm tougher than I look," she reassured him.

Luke took a step forward, his eyes fixed on her wrist where her sleeve fell away, his brow furrowed. He reached out a hand and gently brushed the tattooed skin. She could see him wondering about the wards, but he didn't ask.

"I'm okay, I promise," Eve said quietly.

Luke didn't respond, but pulled her into a hug. She breathed in the smell of him -- warm and woodsy, pine needles. She didn't want him to let go. His arms were wrapped around her, his face buried in her neck. She felt some of the tension leach out of his shoulders. After a moment longer, they broke apart.

They parted ways after that, each heading off to their separate rooms. As soon as she got to her room, Eve unlatched her window and slipped silently out onto the roof. The air was heavy with mist, and the moon was hidden behind clouds. She breathed deep.

With a relief, she settled down against the tiles and stared into the darkening sky. It wasn't the first time she had found herself on the roof, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. She liked the feeling of being so high, suspended above the grounds and the world. Along the horizon, the city was just waking, the buzz of the evening heating up.

Below her, humans passed by the academy unawares. To them, it was just another brick building, something along the edges of their awareness telling them to look away and keep walking.

A breeze ruffled her hair and Eve pulled her knees up to her chest. She suddenly wondered what vampires did for fun, but couldn't think of a serious answer. She wondered where Ari was right now, what he was doing. A flush crept up her neck. What did it mean, that feeling, when she thought of him?

Eve closed her eyes, letting her mind drift where it wanted. There was no point fighting her own brain, and she was too tired to care. She couldn't help but picture Ari, his dark eyes and hollow cheeks. She hated him. She wanted him. She didn't understand. It made her uneasy that these feelings lingered even when the wards were up. It meant that they were her own thoughts, no one else's.

When she opened her eyes, she found herself standing in a large, unfamiliar room. It was dark, with only a dim light illuminating the walls. She realized with a start that she had woken up here before.

Her hand instinctively went for her blades, but her holster was gone. Her uniform was gone. She was in a familiar black robe, soft silk between her fingers. Her hair was loose about her shoulders.

She padded quietly on bare feet to where she now knew the door was blended perfectly into its surroundings, pushing it open a crack and stepping out into the mirrored hall. Dark walls were faintly illuminated by red light emanating from the end of the hallway. Her feet were cold on the mirror surface. She paused to listen for voices but the silence was all-encompassing, bearing down on her.

With a growing unease, she walked towards the source of the red light. As she approached, she understood what she had glimpsed a moment before. The hallway ended in a glass wall, revealing a straight-shot view into the room behind it. The red glow came from a long light encircling the edge of the room where the walls met the ceiling, bathing the scene in a hazy light. It was a large room with a large bed in the middle.

She faltered, her heart thudding.

Ari was sprawled out across the bed. His chest was bare; he was wearing only a pair of black pants. She felt her face grow hot and a warmth pooling in her belly. She was frozen in place, unable to tear her eyes away from him. He was laying on his back, his hands loosely clasped behind his head. The sight was overwhelming.

The muscles of his torso were clearly defined. Her eyes followed the dark trail of hair leading down, past his belly button and beyond. He looked so human, despite his otherness.

Eve was struck with an impulse to touch him, run her hands over his skin. It would be so easy, all she had to do was walk into the room. She couldn't breathe.

Suddenly, he shifted his position, turning towards her and resting his chin on his hand. She thought she saw a flash of surprise across his face, but searching his inscrutable expression she convinced herself she hadn't. His eyes traveled down the length of her, standing in his doorway. They locked eyes and she couldn't bring herself to move, or speak, or even think.

"It's rude to stare," he said.

He got up and walked towards her. Eve took a step back. She gasped. For a moment, she was teetering at the edge of the roof. She threw out her arm, trying to catch her balance. Her foot slid off the edge and her stomach swooped, the night sky rushing up to meet her.

There was a strong grip on her forearm. She looked up into Ari's dark eyes. She felt his hand tighten on her arm, pulling her up and back onto the roof. He released her and Eve stumbled backwards, falling onto his bed and realizing they were back in his bedroom. Her head spun with confusion.

"I- I don't-" she started.

Ari watched her, his expression inscrutable. She had the sense that he was trying to figure her out. The heat that had risen in her belly was now concentrated lower, pulsing through her and making her skin feel tight and sensitive. Her mind was clouded and slow.

"Don't what, Eve?" he asked, his voice low.

"Don't know what's happening" she finally said.

Ari sat down beside her. She felt the bed dip beneath his weight. The sheets were smooth, and the room smelled like him. Ari's face was inches from hers. He smiled and she couldn't help but notice how his fangs pressed up against his lower lip, his sharp canines prominent. She kept her chin up and stared him down.