begat by dead partners can sometimes take seed. Supernatural anomaly. Since I haven’t seen any fanged vamplings with my own eyes, then they must be myth. And no, we don’t feel sexual and turned on by drinking blood like what oversexed novelists insisted upon drilling into the public’s head. Blood’s just food. You don’t want to have sex with your bowl of oatmeal, do you?”
He looked at Poe, a little annoyed. “Any more questions before the lesson?”
Poe crossed her arms. “I didn’t ask you those questions, you know.” She looked at a mischievous Perla. Peevishly, she continued. “And what lesson?”
Joseph opened the door to a gymnasium and let the three in. “Just a little something so we can gauge your self-defense skills.”
Poe’s eyes widened. “Man, I’m all cut and bruised up from yesterday. I can’t be thrown around and kicked by subcreatures.”
“Don’t worry about it, Poe. We know about your injuries,” he smiled. “Besides, I’m not the one who’s going to kick you around. That would be these gentlemen over here.”
As if on cue, three humans – one thin, one burly, and one extremely muscular – wearing white sparring outfits appeared from around the corner. The lounging crowd clapped readily.
Poe had an intense urge to punch Joseph’s gleeful mug. This wasn’t funny at all. These guys looked like they belonged in Bloodsport. She limped from her nail wound, her cuts still fresh. And she was bursting from lunch, for Pete’s sake. She felt like unlatching the 145
Rono/That Which Bites
safety of one of the Glocks and shooting everyone in the room who’d come for the spectacle.
“Poe, this is Jim. He’ll be your first sparring partner.” The thin but sturdy man bowed to her. His face screamed pain in Poe’s opinion. She flared her nostrils at the man. She pulled down at her Pixies tshirt. “If you would take off your holsters and backpack, the games can begin.”
Poe scowled at Joseph, her five-inch scar turning white . This isn’t a gladiator show. Miserable fucker!
She threw her new guns unceremoniously by Joseph’s feet hoping one of them would go off and shoot him in the ass. Perla gave her a squeeze, looking mighty nervous for the girl. Maple whispered in her ear,
“Remember, anything goes, Poe.”
Poe nodded at the two women, too tense to give a proper smile. Her butt was hurting, too. She thought she should just refuse, but she knew Joseph would never let her hear the end of it. And unbelievably, her new bra was giving her grief. Too stiff and itchy.
As if the whole thing wasn’t painful enough, Sainvire came striding in looking cool and collected, ready to watch the bullfight. Poe’s breath caught in her throat. Why did he have to be so damn tall and interesting-looking? And those freaky eyes! Why didn’t Joseph choose three women to spar with me?
“Please, Mom and Dad, don’t make me look stupid in front of Sainvire,” Poe prayed silently. She squatted down to tighten the double-knot of her shoelaces.
As soon as Poe stepped on the mat, Jim circled her as if she were prey, and assumed a fighting stance not unlike Ralph Macchio’s “Crane” from The Karate Kid. Fuck me, Poe thought as she stood. She couldn’t remember any of the stances she had learned from 146
Rono/That Which Bites
Goss and her videos at home, and she had no idea which style she would sport. I’m dead.
Economy of movement, Poe, said Bruce Lee in her head. Before his voice finished, however, Jim had already snaked a punch in her direction. Poe barely avoided the full impact of his fist as she did a Cassius Clay and stepped back, dancer style with her chin tucked in.
The smack she took instead of a punch served to piss her off since she knew at least a dozen folks were watching. Some she recognized from the cafeteria.
When another punch came at her, Poe blocked with her elbow, trapping her opponent’s hand. She returned with a back kick, cracking his kneecap. It was always a good move to go for the knee. As Jim fell, Poe continued to work on his hand, snapping back his wrist.
“That’s what you get, jerk!” A dirty fighter, Poe didn’t stop with the wrist. She kicked at the man even when he was down, concentrating on his face and privates. “Die!”
“Jim will never be able to have kids,” said an onlooker sweating on a treadmill.
Maple had to carry the defeated man away from the still kicking Poe, while she let loose a string