Page 30 of Countdown to Murder (A Paranormal Halloween #3)
Mira
It turns out, we were sent to a Slayer training facility, and the director said we could use the facilities all week with no charge if we’d both spend an hour that day, and an hour a few days later, training and sparring with their teen slayers-in-training.
The thing about supernatural politics is that it’s often more about who you know than what is happening, or has happened. Every connection you make might be leveraged later on. Help someone now, and maybe they’ll be able to help you later.
So, of course, I agreed to teach two classes.
Enough adults were in the room, it seemed clear they were near in case I lost control. I wanted to be offended, but I didn’t blame them.
“Five teens?” Panda asked, “In the whole county?”
“Five that happen to be here today. We’ll bring more in when the two of you return.”
Panda looked at the teens and met their gaze one-by-one before finally saying. “I’ll show you how to fight a lion in warrior form, but I’m doing so because I trust you’ll only try to take down the ones who are a danger to you or to humans.”
One of the young ladies looked to Mira. “And you? You’ll show us how to fight a snake?”
“I’ll show you how to fight a vampire, since that’s my specialty.
I’ve never been trained for how to fight another snake.
” I looked at the man who seemed to be in charge.
He hadn’t introduced himself, so I didn’t ask for his name.
I’d find out and would address him appropriately the next time I saw him.
“If there’s a heavy bag that can stand up to supernatural abuse, I’d like to start there.
The kids can watch my routine, and when I finish, I’ll break it down and explain why it helps me stay in shape to take down even the fastest old-ones. ”
I warned them it’s a three-and-a-half-minute routine, and told them I usually go through it two or three times without stopping, but that I’d only go through it once before I stopped and broke the first minute of it down for them.
Honestly, there’s nothing like hitting and kicking a heavy bag with your full strength. The thplat of my shin against it, the shock of the top of my foot impacting, the solid feel of my fist striking and the shockwave going up my arm and into my torso.
When I finished going through my routine once, Panda said, “In Kung Fu Panda, there’s a scene where Tigress talks about hitting a tree every day, building up the bones in her hands so she can hit anything without worry of injuring herself.
Most humans don’t understand what it takes to turn your body into a warrior.
Even most warriors don’t understand how much they are pulling their punches to keep from injuring themselves.
Can you strike that bag as hard as Mira just did without hurting yourself? ”
No one answered, likely because they all knew they couldn’t.
I meant to take fifteen minutes breaking down the first minute of my routine, but the kids asked good questions, so we spent nearly twice that before I finished and took a seat so Panda could teach them something.
“I’m not sure I can show you as much as Mira did.” He looked to the adults. “I learned a few things. Did any of you know everything she just taught?”
No one said they did, and I tried not to look surprised.
He talked to them about fighting a lion in warrior form before he led us to a sparring area and changed into his warrior form.
Each child got a few minutes sparring with Panda, and the adult slayers stayed on the edges of the room, watching without interfering.
Panda kept his mouth human and closely supervised the kids once they started sparring each other using the tricks he’d just taught them, which was good because I had no idea how to keep them from hurting each other.
Panda was great with the kids, and it made me like him even more. I had no idea why, but it did.
By the time we left, I felt good about our evening. I’d meditated, I’d gone all-out on a heavy bag — once with an audience and then later without one — and I’d hopefully given future slayers some training that might keep them alive.
“You’re hungry.” Panda didn’t ask. It was a statement.
“I am, but it’s under control. I’d like to eat something when we get back, and then maybe put the lasagna in the oven and go for a swim in the ocean, so it’s ready when we return.”
“It isn’t a programmable oven, so we’ll have to keep an eye on the time, but it sounds like a nice plan. I had some more food delivered today. We’ll have dessert after the lasagna.”
* * * *
Mira
I didn’t know what to think of the flowers or the fruit, which was arranged beautifully in a fancy basket. Apples, oranges, grapes, plums, pears, and a couple of peaches.
How had he known to get peaches? I love peaches. I grabbed one, walked to the sink, washed it, and ate it. Skin and all. God, I love peaches. My body usually can’t handle the carbs, but that didn’t seem to be a problem anymore.
“Looks like I should’ve ordered the peach cobbler instead of apple pie,” Panda said, a huge smile on his face.
“Why are you smiling?” I asked around the tart, sweet peach flesh in my mouth.
“I enjoy seeing you happy. Peaches make you happy?”
I nodded. “I’d never thought of it that way, but yeah, I suppose they do. The flowers are beautiful, but I’m not sure what to do with them.”
“You don’t do anything with them. I mean, you can smell them, and if you like, I can put a few petals in the coconut oil to help scent it, but mainly, they’re a visual reminder that someone thinks you’re special.”
I froze and stared at him while the message worked its way through my brain. A visual reminder someone thinks you’re special. He’d spent time and money for the flowers and fruit because he wanted to show me he thought I was special. What should I do for him?
“Is it enough for me to say thank you? Am I supposed to do something else to show how I feel? I’m sorry, if there’s a protocol, I don’t know it.”
“How do you feel?”
I grabbed another peach, took a bite, and considered the question. “Special. Like I matter. I’m not sure how to explain it.”
He walked to me, kissed his finger, touched it to the tip of my nose, and my heart went all fluttery in my chest. “You just did, Darlin’. Will the peaches be enough of a snack before our swim?”
“No. I need carbs and protein, and some fat, too. The egg salad you bought yesterday should work on a sandwich. Do we have pickles to go on the side? Maybe two sandwiches. Or even three.” I walked to the refrigerator and began pulling food out.
“I feel like I lost five pounds teaching the kids. I think I preferred my old metabolism. Eating this much is going to be a pain in the ass, not to mention expensive.”
“Drake will pay you enough you won’t have to worry about expense, and I’ll show you how to stock a freezer and pantry so you always have something handy to cook and eat.”
* * * *
Panda
I’m a strong swimmer and assumed I’d have to back off for Mira to keep up, but in reality, the little thing is like a bullet in water.
She used her arms, of course, but her body moved like a snake, propelling her in ways I couldn’t match.
I swam all out and we were nearly a draw, and I’m one of the fastest swimmers I know, even amongst supernaturals.
Suffice it to say, I got a cardio workout, and then some.
Pat and Ruth had assured us we were safe for a half-mile out to sea, so we swam parallel with the beach, and watched for the landmarks to warn we were nearing the edge of the county. By the time we made it back to our rented beach house, I climbed onto land and collapsed on the hard-packed sand.
“Fuck. Have you always swam like that?”
She nodded. “Like a snake, yes, but it was easier today. The joints were even more fluid than they’ve been in the past. Everything flowed easier.”
“How long is your snake?”
“Sixteen feet, which is long for a female. Odd, since I’m shorter than most in my human form.”
Somewhere in the back of my mind I remembered Echidna was Poseidon’s great-granddaughter, and I realized I should’ve known Mira would be a strong swimmer. It helped my ego a little, but not much.
She was standing over me, looking down, and my male pride forced me to my feet, though my thigh and calf muscles screamed at me for forcing them to trudge through the sand.
“I’m going to make a quick run through the shower to get the sand off me and do something with my hair,” Mira said while I dug the key out of the inside zipper pocket of my swim trunks.
“I’ll pull the lasagna pans from the oven so they can rest before we cut into them, and then I’ll jump in the shower as well. If you’re still in the master, I’ll use the one out here.”