Red Handed (12 page)

My eyes widened, and I gasped. The sensual haze that had trapped me finally dissipated. “What are you doing?”

He didn't release me, but squeezed harder. Not enough to cut off my air, but enough to consume my attention. “If an Arcadian grabs you from behind, how will you escape from him?”

Kitten raised her hand. “I know, I know!” Her golden cat's eyes practically glittered with eagerness.

Ryan motioned with his chin for her to continue, and his nose tickled the top of my head. I was battling a need to struggle,
not
to struggle, and to look cool and to prove myself. He wasn't hurting me, but he could at any moment.

“Kick backward and try to hit his balls.”

Despite the situation, I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing. The thought of kicking Ryan in the balls and dropping him to his knees was as appealing as it was appalling.

“That might work, as long as you do it calmly rather than in a panic and as long as he doesn't keep his body away from you, which is a possibility. Panic will fog your mind and quash your objective. You will miss your target every time and fail to realize key details, like the placement of the attacker's body.” As he spoke, he traced his thumbs over my pulse points.

I shivered and tried to mask it with a cough. My cheeks flushed. No boy had ever touched me like this, as if I were a treasure of some sort. And that it was Ryan doing so…I licked my lips. Maybe I'd misread the situation. Maybe he wasn't mad at me, after all.

“Your new motto is: Whatever means necessary,” he said. “Say it with me: Whatever means necessary.”

We did.

“Good. Again.”

We repeated it a second time.

“There are several things you can do,” he added. “First, however, you should scream—if possible—so that he'll hopefully remove one of his hands from your neck to cover your mouth. Also, screaming might bring you aid and alert your teammates to your whereabouts.”

Good idea. I opened my mouth to scream, but Ryan laughed. “Not yet,” he said.

I pressed my lips together.

“Won't screaming draw civilians and perhaps get them killed?” Cara asked.

“If it's your only resort, it's a chance you'll have to take,” Ryan replied. “The good news is, a civilian could also work as a distraction, giving you the opportunity you need to free yourself and kill the alien, which is your ultimate objective.”

“But, what if screaming doesn't work?” Johanna asked.

Cara nodded. “Yeah, I mean, some Outers won't care if you draw attention. They might even like it.”

“If he doesn't release you with one hand to cover your mouth, elbow him in the breastbone with all of your strength. Remember, that's where an Arcadian's main airway is located.”

“And if
that
doesn't work?” Kitten said.

“Stomp his instep and stomp hard. Stomp repeatedly if you must, but stomp fast. Pinch his thigh, drawl blood. Tug on his hair. Time is your enemy in this position and you must get him to loosen his hold as soon as possible. Hurt him and he'll let go, giving you the opportunity to turn and punch.”

The girls nodded, awed, rapt.

Ryan didn't remove his hands from my neck, but increased the pressure. “Now,” he said.

“What?” I gasped out. He still wasn't hurting me, but the extra force was frightening.

“Break free,” he commanded me.

I tried to laugh, but couldn't quite manage it. The girls watched us with worried expressions. “You want me to fight you?”

“Break free,” he said again, this time with more force. He squeezed harder, and this time it
hurt
. “I heard you passed your drug test,” he whispered, his breath caressing my ear. “Congrats.”

Thanks for the reminder that I'm the drug addict here
. “I won't get in trouble for hurting you?” I wheezed, having trouble drawing in a breath.

“You can't hurt me. Now fight, damn it, before you pass out.”

I wasn't going to pass out. No way. After I'd helped Ryan fight the Sybilins, he—more than anyone—should have had more faith in my abilities. “I'm not sure I can,” I managed to gasp out, playing the nervous little girl. “You're hurting me.”

His hold loosened. “You can, Phoenix. You just need—”

While he spoke, I acted. And I acted hard, just like he'd said.
Whatever means necessary
. I didn't hold back. Draw blood? My pleasure. I propelled my elbow into his stomach. Air whooshed from him, and he doubled over. His hands loosened even more.

I'd probably just aced the test with that move, but I pinched his thigh, anyway. As he howled, I slammed my foot into his instep.

Pivoting on my heel, I turned around and slugged him in the nose. His head whipped to the side. My knuckles throbbed, still bruised from the pounding I'd given the Sybilins.

I stood there, panting and facing my instructor, triumph washing through me. A trickle of blood dripped from his nose. Test complete. I'd escaped.

Slowly Ryan righted himself and faced me. His blue eyes were practically glowing as he wiped away the blood with the back of his hand. His lips twitched.

“I broke free,” I said, chin raised, “by whatever means necessary.”

“So you did,” he returned, and there was a pleased edge to the words.

Behind us, Kitten clapped and whooped. “That's my girl!”

Ryan smiled fully. “If I was giving a grade today, you'd get an A for kicking my ass.”

“Lucky,” Dani said again.

“Thank you,” I said, proud of myself. The throb in my hand increased with every second that passed, but it was worth it.

Suddenly Ryan's eyes narrowed. Something dark flashed inside them, something dangerous. I blinked, certain I was mistaken. I hadn't done or said anything to warrant that kind of reaction.

“You did that a little too well,” he said. “Anyone ever tried to choke you before?”

Worried? About me? How sweet! Exasperation drained from me, and pleasure took its place. “No. That was a first.” And an experience I'd rather not repeat.

Bit by bit, his expression softened. “Well, you did great.”

I smiled over at him. His gaze dropped to my mouth. Heat infused his expression this time, and he took a step toward me. Did he…did he want to kiss me? The very thought excited me. His lips on mine…his taste in my mouth…. He seemed to catch himself, though, and froze for a split second. He inched backward.

“Get back in line,” he commanded stiffly.

He was changing moods faster than I could keep up. What had brought on the sudden change
this
time? “Ryan,” I said.

“In line, Germaine,” he snapped.

Unmoving, I frowned at him.

“Line. Now.”

Shaking my head at his behavior, I spun around and claimed my place at the wall. Cara was peering over at me, her expression weird.

What?
I mouthed. I didn't need crap from her, too.

Nothing
, she mouthed back and turned away.

I nudged her with my shoulder.
What?

Her dark brows arched, and I could tell she was trying to hold back a grin.
I thought he was just okay
.

My eyes slitted.
Whatever
.

Ryan cleared his throat, then launched into a lecture about everything I'd done right and a few things I could have done better. Like hitting his throat or his temple for maximum damage instead of hitting his nose.

After that, he explained what we would be learning in his class for the rest of the year, fighting skills that would correlate with our alien anatomy class. “In the end, you'll be able to fight anyone and anything. You'll be able to kill with your bare hands.”

Kitten's stomach rumbled, and all eyes turned to her. Her cheeks flushed a rosy red, and she began licking her arm and rubbing it over her chin. A nervous habit, I guess.

“Hungry?” Ryan asked her with a grin.

She nodded reluctantly.

“Good, because it's chow time. Go on. Get out of here. You girls did very well today.”

We didn't need to be told twice. We pounded from the cage. But I couldn't help myself. I tossed a glance over my shoulder. Ryan was watching me, and that strange heat was back in his eyes…

 

Breakfast was served in a cafeteria very similar to the one at my school, just smaller. The food, though, was much better. Thank God! Fresh fruit and warm nuts, baked breads, syn-chicken, and rice. It was like dining in a five-star restaurant. The only difference was, we didn't get to choose what we wanted.

We placed our hands on the ID box at the counter, endured a quick scan, and then a tray made specifically for us was slid down a tube and into our direction. The entire process took less than a minute. Very cool, yet very military.

“They like to keep us healthy and proteined up,” Cara said, sitting beside me at the table.

The rest of the class joined us after they'd gotten their trays. We weren't the only ones in the cafeteria. Only girls were present, though. Of the few that were there with us, some cast us curious glances. Some turned their noses up at us. One even “accidentally” bumped into us, telling us to “stay out of the way, weaklings.”

There was a lot of confidence in the room, a lot of cockiness. “What did you guys do to get sent here? And,” I added after swallowing a bite of rice, “how long have you been here?”

“Got arrested for assault,” Dani said with a shrug. “And I've been here two fun-filled days.”

So I wasn't the only criminal. I shouldn't have taken comfort in that, but I did.

“Kadar found me living—” Lindsay pressed her lips together, as if she didn't want to reveal the information. She waved her hand through the air and strove for a casual tone. “He saved me from an Outer. I've been here two days, as well.”

“My mom knows Boss and called and begged him to take me,” Jenn said. There was a trace of bitterness in her tone. “She didn't have what it took to work in this field, so she's leaving it up to me to live her dream.” She forced a laugh. “I've been here several weeks, but this is my first class.”

“What about you?” Cara asked me, her dark eyes curious. “What'd you do?”

I told them about the night the Sybilins attacked. They became very quiet, and studied me more intently. By the time I finished, they were staring at me with awe. And perhaps disbelief.

Dani blinked over at me. “A Sybilin. S-Y-B-I-L-I-N. I knew you'd fought with Ryan Stone, but I'd assumed—I don't know what I'd assumed. Just not a Sybilin.”

I nodded, brow puckered. “Well, it's true.”

“But…the Sybilins are a myth. Aren't they?” Lindsay's red eyebrows arched as she searched the other faces.

“I promise you they're very real.” We ate in silence for a few minutes. A few more girls walked past our table, muttering, “Weaklings.” “What's that about?” I asked.

Jenn tugged at the ends of her hair, the black curls bouncing back into place. “The facility begins new classes every three months. You'll notice that each new class has less and less girls. Some have been here only three months, others six, others nine. The ones who have survived it all and have been here twelve months think of everyone else as know-nothing weaklings.”

“Their classes are in different hallways,” Cara added after she swallowed a bit of banana, “so the only time we have to deal with them is at lunch and social hour.”

“Are there ever any fights?” Kitten asked, her eagerness clear.

“I've heard of a few.” Jenn leaned into us, her voice dropping. “One even ended in death. The girl responsible was memory-wiped and returned home. Or so I heard.” Straightening, she nibbled on the edge of her syn-chicken and closed her eyes in surrender. “God, this is good. I thought I'd die after all that exercise.”

“Where are the boys?” Kitten glanced around. I think she wanted to know where Bradley was and what he looked like. Not that she'd mentioned him recently, but I still suspected she considered him off limits to everyone else. “Jenn?”

“What, am I an instructor?” Jenn splayed her arms wide. “I don't know all the answers.”

“You sure?” I said with a laugh. I drained my milk. I would have preferred soda, but whatever. “You know a lot more than us.”

“Fine. I know the answer to this one, too.” Jenn pinched a piece of bread and shrugged. “The boys are in a separate building, but we'll get to see them three times a week. The powers that be let us get together so we won't try and sneak over there.”

“How do you know so much?” Kitten asked, incredulous. She licked the edge of her milk carton.