The Eternal Kiss: Vampire Tales of Blood and Desire

“I’m done with my class and you still have time before training. How about that self-defense lesson?”

Ava considered the incident last night. Perhaps he wouldn’t be so protective if she agreed. Odd. The thought of walking to the bus alone didn’t produce the relief she expected.

“Okay, but you have to answer one question.”

Wariness touched his eyes. “What’s the question?”

She had a million to ask, but knew he’d probably dodge most of them. Ava pointed to the left side of his neck. “What do your tattoos mean?”

He relaxed. “It’s Okinawan for hawk. Isshinryu is an Okinawan marital art.” Jarett guided her through the door and into his office. Framed pictures decorated the walls. He pointed to a photo of a red-tailed hawk. “Hawks are a symbol of victory. My sensei tattooed the characters onto his neck when he earned his black belt, starting a tradition.”

“Your sensei?”

“Okinawan for teacher.” He huffed in amusement. “Hang around here long enough and you’ll learn Okinawan and Italian.” He stopped before the mats and gestured to her feet. “No shoes.”

She kicked off her street shoes and stepped onto the thin black foam. The mats interlocked like a jigsaw puzzle. Next to the main entrance, the window spanned the whole front of the dojo.

Jarett faced Ava and grabbed her wrist. His thumb overlapped his fingers. “Holy chicken wings, Batman. Don’t you eat?”

She tried to jerk her arm free, but he held on.

“When we work on self-defense techniques, I’m not going to let you go unless you force me. Now, to break my grip, pull through my thumb. It’s the weakest part of the hold.” Jarett demonstrated.

Ava tried again and managed to free herself. They practiced a variety of wrist and arm holds for a while.

“You’re stronger than you look,” he said. “And quick to learn. Some of my students just don’t get it.”

He taught her how to break a bear hold and other body locks. Ava liked being held by him. He smelled of Polo Sport. When she managed to roll him off of her, she paused as a brief surge of pride followed an “ah ha” moment.

Jarett met her gaze and beamed. “If you know what to do, you can escape from anyone, no matter how big.”

“What if they have a knife or a gun?”

“That’s a whole other lesson. I’ll show you next week.”

The prospect thrilled her. When it was time for her fencing lesson, she cut through Jarett’s office and noticed a framed photo propped on his desk. In the picture, Jarett stood next to an older Asian man. Both wore karate uniforms with black belts. Both had matching tattoos and the same shaped face.

“Is that your sensei or your father?” she asked.

Jarett plopped into his chair. “He was both.” Sadness tainted his voice.

She frowned and tried to think of something appropriate to say.

“Looking for the perfect Hallmark words of comfort?” He gave her a wry grin. “They don’t exist in this case. My father was murdered.”

She thought she felt bad before. “That’s horrible. Did the police arrest anyone?”

Jarett’s expression hardened. “The killer was taken care of. We made sure of that.”

A thousand questions lodged in her throat. Afraid of the answers, she swallowed them and retreated to the Academy.

The Saturday afternoon practice included a welcome change in routine. During the last hour, the coaches staged a mock tournament. Ava endured being embarrassed, but not because of her fencing skills. With just a week of training, her attacks and parries had vastly improved, surprising her. Signore Salvatori even gave her a “buono.” High praise indeed.

No. The embarrassment came from her mother. She arrived in time to watch the bouts. Bad enough to have her mother there, but then the woman compounds Ava’s mortification by cheering and hooting for her. Good thing the fencing mask hid her red face.

When Ava finally slinked from the locker room, she stopped in horror. Jarett was talking to her mother. Just kill me now.

She rushed over, intent on hustling her mother out the door.

“… Did you see her feint-disengage attack? It was perfect,” her mother exclaimed.

Ava jumped into the conversation. “It wasn’t perfect, Mom. I didn’t win any bouts.”

Her mother swept her hand as if waving away a fly. “It’s just a matter of persistence, practice and experience.”

Ava rolled her eyes. Mom’s such a dork.

“I like that. Can I tell it to my students?” Jarett asked. He even managed to appear sincere.

Bonus points.

Her mother blinked at him for a few seconds. “Ah … sure.” She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, I thought you trained here.”

“I do, but I teach karate, too.”

“Oh.”

“Did you have trouble parking?” Ava asked her mother, hoping the change in topic would get her moving away from him.

“Not at all, but, Ava … Do you think you can get a ride home with Tammy?”

“Why?”

“A few of my classmates invited me to dinner nearby.” Her mother practically bounced on the balls of her feet in excitement.

Ava was tired, hungry and had been looking forward to a quick ride home. She opened her mouth to complain, but stopped. Her mother had already read Ava’s disappointed expression. She no longer bounced.

If Ava said she couldn’t get a ride, her mother would skip dinner to take her home. She couldn’t even recall the last time her mother did something for herself. She had given up her social life for Ava, and her daughter had been too focused on fencing to notice.

So why did I realize this now? Jarett. Perhaps the water thrown in her face had woken her up. A good thing. Now the only other things she had to worry about were punks on the bus, and strange wooden stakes in Bossemi’s closet.

“Sure, Mom. I’ll get a ride.”

Delight flashed in her eyes. “Thanks, sweetie. See you at home!” She kissed Ava’s forehead and swept out the door.

“Sweetie?” Jarett smirked.

“Don’t start.”

“That was pretty clever. You told her you’d get a ride home, but didn’t say how, so technically you didn’t lie to her. Does Tammy work Saturdays?”

“No.” She dug in her bag for the bus schedule. She’d missed the five fifteen bus by ten minutes, and the next one wasn’t due until six thirty. Her stomach grumbled. She hunted for money, finding only a few bucks. “Is there a hot dog cart around here?”

He winced. “Hot dogs? No wonder you’re so thin. You should be eating healthy foods.”

She clamped down on a laugh. He’d probably have a fit over her daily diet of junk food.

Despite his protest over her food choices, he led her to a local food stand. The shoppers had gone home, and it was too early for the theater crowd, so the area was empty. Jarett set a quick pace, and Ava hustled to keep up.

On the way back to the bus stop, Jarett entertained her with stories about his karate students.

“… Little guy was so proud of his new move, he ran over to his father and kicked him right in the … Damn.” Jarett grabbed her upper arm. “Listen,” he said in a tight voice. “If I tell you to run, you run to the Academy. Understand?” He talked to her, but he watched three figures walking toward them.

“Yes, but—”

“Not now.” He squeezed once and let go. Reaching inside his jacket, he pulled out a mini crossbow, loaded a small bolt and aimed it at them. “Don’t come any closer,” he said.