night.

When he glanced around for the fourth time in a minute, she asked, “Why do you do that?”

“Habit. You should always know who is around you so you’re not surprised.”

“Sounds paranoid.”

“Consider the first night I met you. You were completely oblivious to the fact I was right behind you all the way to the bus stop. I could have grabbed your bag and been gone before you even reacted.”

“I have fast reflexes,” she said.

“Consider how much faster you’d be if you knew a few seconds sooner?”

She conceded the point. All too soon, the bus arrived. Ava mounted the steps with reluctance. She almost laughed out loud. Five days ago, she ran up these steps to get away from Jarett. Now she didn’t want to leave. The door hissed shut behind her. Tammy gave her a distracted hello as Ava sat in her usual seat.

“Full bus tonight,” she said to Tammy.

“Yeah. All the college kids from the burbs are headed downtown.” She tilted her head to look into the big mirror above her and checked out the passengers.

Ava looked back. Groups of friends hung together, laughing and talking loudly. A few high school kids tried to look cool in front of the college kids. One kid sat alone, staring out the window. He wore a black hoodie with a grinning skull on it. When the bus pulled away from the curb, he waved to someone outside.

Settling in for a long ride, she pulled out her history book to study. It remained unopened in her lap. She was distracted by thoughts of Jarett and by Tammy glancing in her mirror every few seconds. Ava finally asked her why.

“There’s a punk in a black hoodie. I think he’s on drugs so I’m keeping an eye on him,” Tammy said.

As Tammy slowed for the next stop, Ava turned around. The punk stared at her. Pale skin clung to his skeletal face. He grinned, displaying crooked teeth and black gums. Yikes.

“Got a runner,” Tammy said with delight. Her hand hovered over the door switch. As soon as a runner reached the point that they might actually catch the bus, Tammy would shut the door and pull away.

“You’re evil,” Ava said.

“Everyone needs a hobby. He’s getting closer … Wait for it … Wait for it … Ah, hell.” She slumped back in her seat. “It’s your friend.”

Jarett bounded up the steps and dropped a token into the fare collector. “Thanks,” he said, not even out of breath. He didn’t acknowledge Ava, but she recognized his hard expression—the sword point. The same cold fury had burned in his eyes when he had thrown the water on her. But this time, he focused it on the grinning skull punk.

As the bus accelerated, Jarett knelt on the seat next to her, facing backward. “I thought I should make sure the bus was safe,” he said. He kept his right hand inside his jacket pocket and his gaze never left Grinning Skull.

Ava suspected he knew the kid. When the bus reached the trendy downtown area, it emptied of students, leaving her, Jarett and the punk. They rode for a while in silence. Tension radiated, filling the air. Ava startled when the kid dinged the signal for the next stop. Jarett jumped to his feet. Grinning Skull stood in the aisle, facing him.

Tammy opened the exit door in the middle of the bus.

“Next time,” Grinning Skull said, waggling boney fingers at Jarett. In a blink, he was gone.

“I told you that guy was on drugs,” Tammy said. “Did you see how fast he moved?”

Jarett relaxed into his seat as the bus drove away.

“A friend of yours?” Ava asked.

“No. He’s a troublemaker in my neighborhood. When I saw him on your bus, I just wanted to make sure he didn’t bother you.”

Conflicting emotions fought in her chest. She was pleased at his concern but annoyed he thought she couldn’t defend herself. “Don’t you have other things to do? It’s Friday night. Won’t your girlfriend be mad?” So lame!

By his sly smile, Ava knew he saw right through her.

“No worries, my harem will wait for me,” he teased. Then he sobered. “I wish. Between training, classes and work, there’s no time for fun. I’m guessing it’s the same with you. Although I’m sure the guys at your school must be lined up three-deep trying to get your attention.”

“Of course.” She flicked her long ponytail dramatically. “There’s a daily fight over me in the hallways.”

He laughed. The rich sound buzzed through her. She decided it didn’t matter why he was here, she would just enjoy his company. For Ava, the ride home flew by.

* * *

Ava used the access code Mr. Clipboard had given her to enter the now-empty Academy. Her mother followed, exclaiming over the equipment. Ava had two hours until her lesson with Salvatori, but a ride downtown from her mother was worth the wait. Plus her mother wanted a tour of the school.

“I’ll pick you up after my economics class.” Her mom left.

The silent studio gave Ava the creeps. She should warm up and practice before the others arrived, but she hesitated outside the dark locker rooms. Instead of changing, she explored the Academy. A few of the coaches’ offices lined the far left wall. Bulletin boards with flyers decorated the space between them.

Ava discovered a hallway in the far left corner of the building. Here the modern renovations ended and the original wood floor and arched windows remained. Half-moon-shaped stained glass transoms sat atop thick ornate doors. Curious to see what lurked behind this double wide entrance, Ava found Sandro Bossemi’s private studio and office.

She entered. The office held the typical furniture and clutter. Foils, épées and sabers rested in the corners. A large, almost life-sized crucifix hung on the far wall with a realistic Jesus nailed to it. The poor guy was frozen with his face creased in agony and wounds bleeding. Yikes.

None of Bossemi’s gold medals were on display. Disappointed, she returned to the corridor. Two other doors remained. One connected to Jarrett’s office, which explained how he’d magically appeared in the studio. The room led to his dojo.

Through the open office door, she watched him teach a few adults. They failed to look as impressive in their white uniforms as Jarett did. His flexibility and speed was striking compared to their awkward attempts. How could she have thought he was a perverted jerk?

She returned to the Academy. The last door had Vietato L’ingresso written on it. More Italian words I don’t know. Probably an equipment room. Ava turned the knob. Despite the strong smell of garlic, her guess seemed right, but the row of swords didn’t glint in the weak light. She picked one up. The heavy weapon was made of wood and the tip had been sharpened to a nasty point. I could stab someone with this.

Bottles of water lined the shelves, matching the one Jarett had used when he threw water on her. Crossbows with wooden bolts hung on the wall. Even the points of the arrows were made of wood. Her queasiness turned into apprehension when she found crosses and wooden stakes. This is beyond weird. It’s bordering on serious mental illness. Did Bossemi believe in

“What are you doing in here?” Jarrett demanded.

Ava jumped. Her heart lunged in her chest.

Before she could reply, he gestured to the door, “Can’t you read?”

“Not Italian.”

He tapped the words with his index finger. “Vietato L’ingresso. No admittance.”

Ignoring her heart’s antics, she shrugged. “If you really wanted to keep people out, you should lock the door.”

He motioned her from the room, then shut the door when she joined him in the hallway. “We need to be able to get in there quickly.”

“Why? What’re all those weapons for?”

He shook his head. “Not yet. Sandro decides who is ready or not.”

She wanted to protest, but he changed the subject.

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