He stalked toward her, head low. Strands of hair obscured most of his face, shielding his eyes.
Her insides tightened. Excitement and anxiety swirled. She raised an unsteady arm. “I…I can’t do this right now.”
“I told you I didn’t want you going back there.” He didn’t even miss a beat.
How had he known how badly it went? She wasn’t sure, but when he stopped in front of her, every muscle in her body locked up. Then she whirled, taking off. She couldn’t deal with him right now or what he made her feel. Hell, she couldn’t even deal with herself.
She didn’t make it very far.
Julian snagged her from behind and flipped her around, pressing her until her back hit rough tree bark. Catching her wrists in one hand, he pinned them above her head. “Why do you run from me?” he growled. “I’m not the enemy.”
If he wasn’t the enemy, then who was? The Sanctuary? Her?
As he stared down at her, a look of fierce possessiveness shot across his face. She shuddered. And when he pulled her against him, she expected him to take her right there.
But he didn’t.
Julian cradled her against him, wrapping one arm around her tightly and sinking his other deep into her hair. And she was desperate to be closer to him. She nuzzled against him, spreading her hands across his back. With him, she was just Lily—not tethered to the Sanctuary or to anything—and she could only be that with Julian.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“Why are you apologizing?” He lowered his head, kissing where her neck met her shoulder. “You’ve done nothing wrong. Don’t apologize for them. I can’t—I won’t leave you.”
Lily squeezed her eyes shut. “I don’t want you to.”
He was silent for a very long time, holding her to him. “You think to keep us both?”
Tipping her head back, she met his stare. “I do.”
A small smile pulled at his lips as he smoothed his hand over her head. “It won’t be easy, Lily.”
Nothing was easy, but that didn’t mean she was going to just give up. She could deal with this. And she would. There was no other choice, unless she wanted to lose everything—including Julian.
…
Michael landed hard on his back for what seemed like the hundredth time in the last hour. However, he was a bit smarter this time. He immediately blocked Rafe’s booted heel from connecting with his throat.
Remy chuckled from the other side of the mat. “He’s catching on.”
“Finally,” muttered Rafe, removing the pressure.
He wanted to tell them where they could shove it, but he had tried that already. And it had not ended well. He’d probably be pissing blood for the next week. Climbing slowly to his feet, he stretched the kink out of his back. “One more time.”
One more time—just one more time until Michael got it.
Rafe nodded, and pride shone in his eyes before he attacked. He moved with a series of fast jabs and leg swipes Michael was able to dodge and then kicks. The kicks were always what got him. No man should be able to kick that fast and hard.
“Slow it down. It’s not about how fast you can move, but how well you can anticipate his next move.”
Startled by the soft advice, Michael wasn’t able to block the crescent kick Rafe delivered, and on the floor he went.
Lily hadn’t spoken since she’d arrived this morning to watch him train. She came in, lifted her chin curtly at them, and then sat down on the mats. Every so often he had glanced over at her. She watched them intently, but he could never read her expression. The only thing he could tell was that she looked exhausted. Faint shadows blossomed under her green eyes, and there was a weary pull to her lips.
Remy bent down to her, several thick dreads obscuring whatever it was he whispered in her ear.
Michael picked himself up. “One more time,” he gritted.
Lily pushed herself up from the mat. Her long hair was pulled up in a messy knot, and she wore loose-fitting sweats. Even rumpled and exhausted, he knew he shouldn’t underestimate whatever she was up to.
Rafe turned to her. “Wanna give it a try?”
She nodded as he stepped aside. “You move too fast. In hand-to-hand combat, simply moving faster than your opponent is only a benefit when you’re the attacker.” Her hand snaked out, slamming into his chest. He staggered back with a scowl. “However, defending yourself is simply anticipating the next move. He will tell you where he strikes next without words.”
Michael rubbed his chest with the heel of his palm. “Was that necessary?”
She flashed a small grin. “Watch us.” Lily turned to Rafe with a small nod. He launched into attack with the same amount of ferocity that he held when he went after him.
Michael crossed his arms over his chest. Instead of Lily ending up on her ass, she dodged his blows. The entire time she kept her eyes on Rafe. Within seconds she pushed forward, and to Rafe’s irritation, she easily deflected each kick and jab he sent her way.
“Arm!” she called a split second before Rafe threw a punch. “Leg!” she yelled again. Over and over, she called out each method of attack right as Rafe delivered it. He moved faster, but she still managed to catch it a second before he did. “Watch his body! See how the area tenses before he uses it. The muscles will twitch or tremor.” She blocked a fierce sidekick that would have hurt like holy hell.
His eyes narrowed on Rafe, eventually seeing what she pointed out. It was a fine tremor. No matter how Rafe tried to change it up, his body gave away his next move. After he picked that up and grew a bit more confident, his attention wandered over to Lily.
She was rather amazing to watch. Quick-footed and strong, she moved like a skilled dancer. She really got into it, too. Maybe a little too much. There was an air of violence to her. Part of her must thrive on it because eventually her lips curved into a delighted smile as Rafe grew more agitated with her ability to outperform him.
The midget ninja was enjoying herself.
A smile pulled at his lips as his hand slid under his shirt, over the crucifix she had brought to him.
Lily backed off, and Michael took her place with Rafe. After a few minutes, he was able to anticipate the moves. Not as quickly as she had, but he didn’t end up on his back again. That was a hell of an improvement. Even Rafe seemed to think so. Instead of breaking for lunch with the usual routine of running the underground tunnels, he allowed Michael to go straight to the cafeteria. He felt like he’d moved up a grade.
Lily disappeared while they headed to lunch, but returned a few minutes later looking…off. Michael watched her curiously as she grabbed some food. The whole time she kept her head down as she surveyed the piles of lunch meat.
“What’s up with her?” he asked around a mouthful of roast-beef sub.
Remy’s gaze flickered to Rafe. “Nothing.”
“Bullshit.”
“If you think you’re brave enough to broach that question with her, please let me know ahead of time,” said Rafe. “I would like to be out of swinging range.”
Michael snorted but didn’t respond. Lily sat beside him with a plate full of meat but no bread. She picked at the food listlessly, and no amount of effort Remy or Rafe made to draw her into conversation seemed to work.
He nudged her arm when Rafe and Remy left to dump their plates. “You okay?”
She glanced up, her expression unfathomable. “Yeppers.”
“You don’t seem so. Did something happen yesterday when you were gone?”
The cool exterior cracked a bit, but it wasn’t anger that poked through. It was agitation. She looked at him for a moment, her eyes shuttered. “No, nothing happened yesterday.”
His gaze dropped to the hand that rested next to her untouched plate. It trembled for a few seconds before it stilled. Lily seemed unaware of the movement. “Hey, if you need anyone to talk to?” he offered. “Though I don’t know how much help I’d be. I’m bat-shit crazy since I’ve been here.”
Lily laughed softly. She opened her mouth but caught a glimpse of the door and froze. He followed her gaze. Two Nephilim walked in. He recognized one of them as Micah, and he wasn’t a fan of the cocky son of a bitch.
