Page 19 of Bite Back
ASHER
“This is just to get a starting point.”
Delilah’s blue eyes stare—more like glare—back at me, eyebrows raised.
After yesterday’s call with Mary Emma, she insisted we schedule her first training session as soon as possible.
I get it. I saw her eyes go glassy and the way her fingers clenched the edge of her chair.
I know how it feels to want to do something, anything.
But now that we’re both here, it’s highly apparent we’re not on the same page. Again.
The course I’ve set up looks more like some sort of field day exercise from elementary school than a crash course in vampire hunting. But we’ve got to start with the basics.
She’s clad in tight black leggings that hug the soft curves of her stomach and hips, and a black tank top.
Her cherry cola hair is pulled back in a high ponytail that she tosses over her shoulder as she gestures at the obstacle course I set up around the gym space in my apartment building.
“How does all of this help me kill Luka?”
The course is short, given the limited space, a series of stations to gauge her ability in speed, dexterity, and strength.
“It doesn’t.” She opens her mouth to protest before I can even finish my thought.
I hold up a hand. “Not directly. It helps me figure out how best to help you.” I lean back against the mirrored gym wall.
“I’ve never trained you, or any other vampire, before.
I have some ideas of techniques and training that might help, but, before we can start that, I want to get a sense of where you’re at right now. ”
Her shoulders lower a fraction. “Okay, then. Where do I start?”
I move towards the first station, a series of yellow cones laid out on the ground.
“You’re going to zigzag through these then—” I point to the rope ladder laid out on the floor after the cones.
“Step through these, one foot in each square.” After that, there’s a large wooden box.
I chose a fifty inch, that’s the most I can do on my best day.
I’ve already reached out to the gym about commissioning a higher one.
My knuckles rap the top of the box. “Then jump up here.” Her eyes widen, but she doesn’t complain.
Instead, she looks at the box with her jaw set.
Stubborn. I shift to the next station. A black medicine ball, the heaviest I could find, sits on the floor.
“Lift this above your head and drop it. Ten times.” My gaze searches her face.
Her lips purse but, again, no protest. “And, finally.” I gesture at the cones I’ve laid out. “Run from there to there and back.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it. But do it all as fast as you can.” I pull my stopwatch out of my pocket. “I’ll be timing you.”
For a moment, Delilah stands stock-still, hands on her hips, regarding the course. Then she claps her hands together and moves to the starting line, one foot in front of the other, poised, ready to launch.
“On the count of three, okay?”
She nods sharply.
“One, two, three, go.” My thumb punches the timer.
She takes off like a rocket, weaving between the cones.
My eyes narrow as she darts back and forth.
She’s struggling with the direction change, overcompensating, and at one point, almost stumbling.
Quick steps through the ladder prove easier, and I’m impressed by the speed with which her feet navigate the rope.
On the box jump, she misjudges the height of the box, overshooting by a good ten inches.
Impressive, but also problematic. Her arms windmill wildly as she struggles to regain her balance before she leaps down.
She hefts the medicine ball up without breaking a sweat and thuds it down, over and over again.
“Good, that’s ten,” I bark. She breezes through the sprints, although, I note, we could improve her running form. I hit the stop button on the timer.
1:31.
I flash the number at her.
She gazes over at me, an unasked question in her quirked lips. A few strands of her cherry hair have escaped from the ponytail, and she brushes them back, tucking them behind her ears.
“Good, but not great.” Her budding smile tilts into a frown. “I’m guessing I could do this course in under two minutes. Maybe not as fast as you.”
The grin returns to her face.
“But you’re not trying to beat me. You’re trying to beat another vampire. An older vampire. Which means you’d need to be faster.”
“How much faster?”
I weigh the question. “At least thirty seconds.” Those lake-blue eyes widen again.
“Look, we know vampires grow stronger, faster with time. But we also know a lot of what new vampires lack isn’t raw speed or strength.
You did amazing with the medicine ball and the sprints.
But you need to learn your body’s new capabilities and how to work with them.
Where you’re struggling is on form and coordination.
And that’s something we can improve.” I run my hands through my hair.
“Watch me. I’ll do it once at full speed, and then we’ll break it down. ”
I pass Delilah the stopwatch. “Here, you time me.”
I fly through the course, feeling the weight of her eyes on me. When I reach the finish line, breath coming out in pants, I find her eyes fixed on me intently.
“1:51.”
Not bad. Not bad at all.
“Okay, now let’s break it down more.” Sweat beads on my brow. I lift up my shirt and wipe my face off with the cotton.
When I glance up, Delilah’s eyeing me, the faintest flush of red painted across her cheeks. Something twinges within me at that. Knowing I affect her.
I shove down the thoughts. I’m attracted to her. But that doesn’t mean I can act on it.
I demonstrate the correct way to weave between the cones, showing her in slow motion how to shift her balance as she changes direction. Then she copies me. She’s a quick study, mimicking the motions near perfectly.
She still wobbles slightly as she switches direction.
“Here. May I?” My hands hover over her body, one floating by her hip and the other.
“Yes.”
I don’t miss her sharp inhale as my hands make contact with her body. I reposition her limbs gently. “There. Try that.”
She repeats the movement.
“Good.”
An hour later, we’ve shaved Delilah’s time on the course down to 1:22 and identified several areas for further improvement. Our next training session is logged in my calendar, and I promise to send her home with a list of exercises to practice.
Not a bad start at all.