I took a step forward, bringing me nose to nose with him. He’d taken a stake for me; I wasn’t afraid of him. One way or the other, I’d prove that tonight.
“You’ve seen me in action,” I quietly said, “and you know I can protect myself. You know I wouldn’t let you hurt me. I am not human. I am an immortal, practically indestructible, highly trained Novitiate vampire and Sentinel of this House. But if you think you can do it, I dare you to try.”
Shock filled his face. “Excuse me?”
“Me and you, right now. You try your best to hurt me.” I gave him the cockiest expression I could muster. “I guarantee you can’t.”
My words were softly but intently spoken, and they seemed to finally get through to him.
He marched to the center of the room, interrupting a cadre of half a dozen vampires who were sparring on the tatami mats that covered the floor.
“Out,” he bellowed, and no one stopped to ask for clarification. Without a word, they gathered up their things and headed for the door.
“Lock it,” Ethan directed, and I closed and locked the door behind us, my heart thudding in anticipation.
When I turned around again, he beckoned me forward. “Ready when you are, Sentinel.”
Oh, I was ready. He’d been obnoxious enough that I had no compunction about trying to hit him now, and I didn’t wait for him to make the first move. I ran toward him and executed a scissor kick, but he was fast enough to deflect it.
I prodded the back of his knee and sent him stumbling forward. But he caught himself and managed to use his momentum to spin the stumble into a backward kick.
I yelped in surprise but jumped over his foot. We were up and facing each other in less than a second.
First round: a tie.
“You aren’t trying very hard,” I said.
“I’m not actually going to hurt you.”
I chuckled. “That presupposes you could hurt me. You can’t. Try again.”
Ethan halfheartedly aimed a couple of jabs at me. In response, I offered a jab, an uppercut, and a double jab again. He dodged the shots, managed a side kick that grazed my right kidney. His eyes widened, but I made a sarcastic sound.
“It’s going to take more than that, Sullivan. As Morpheus would say, quit trying to hit me and hit me.”
I must have pricked his ego, as he spun backward and went for a crescent kick, which was one of his better moves. He had the lean strength of a soccer player and the fluidity of a dancer. The edge of his heel just grazed the outside of my thigh, and I quickly executed a side kick that tapped his butt just as he turned around.
But Ethan didn’t give up on the crescent kick. He spun again and caught the back of my knee with his heel. My leg bobbled and I went down, landing on my back. Before I could hop to my feet again, he pounced, flattening me to the mat and pinning down my arms.
My eyes silvered immediately, the speed of the transition almost embarrassing. It was unnerving that he had the power to affect me so immediately—that the sensation of his body atop mine immediately turned me into a needy mess.
“Point to me,” he said.
I considered my options—a scissor kick that switched our positions and put him on the floor, or a surrender that would keep him exactly where he was, his body warm and long above mine.
“Point to you,” I said, “but I’m still perfectly healthy.”
“It might not always be so simple,” he said, his eyes still dark with worry.
I understood his point, understood well the risk he was trying to avoid. But he’d saved my life twice. I trusted him implicitly, and not because I feared him or what he might do. “I’m not afraid of you.”
His eyes silvered. “You should be.”
“Never. You took a stake for me.”
“I was a different man then.”
“Bullshit. You are the same man now that you were before. A little ballsier maybe, and a little more moody because of Mallory’s intervention. But the same man.” I trailed a finger over the spot that bore the stake’s scar. “You took a stake for me. You bear a scar for me because of what you sacrificed. Would you do it again?”
“In a heartbeat.”
And that, I thought, was answer enough. He might have been afraid he’d hurt me,