Wounded Angel (The Earth Angels) - By Stacy Gail Page 0,21

out in order to win the prize. Your only goal is to incapacitate your attacker and get away. And just like we learned in the last class, the points of attack that you should focus on are the eyes, nose, throat, groin, the instep and knees. Is everyone ready?”

Behind her, she heard a glum sigh. “No.”

“The person behind you attacks, using what we commonly call the bear-hug hold to drag you to a place where they wish to control you. Now is the best opportunity you’ll have to save your life.” She again glanced over her shoulder when nothing happened. “Do it.”

Nate gave her what might have been the dirtiest look in the history of dirty looks. Then with another sigh any martyr would have envied, he moved like lightning to clamp massive arms around her. In that instant, when sheer brawn surrounded her, a wave of alarm slammed into her with the force of a brass-knuckled punch. It bubbled up from that malignant place where she kept all the nightmares that weren’t really nightmares, and spread through her system like a paralyzing poison. Just like it did the first time around, when she was nothing but a...

A victim.

No.

The force of his hold was so strong it lifted her off her feet, a position that would send anyone into panic-mode. Off the feet meant no control of where the body went. Or at least that was what it meant if the brain drowned in that deadly, trapped-animal kind of fear. With a strength of will honed by countless hours of Jacob-driven practice, Ella forced herself to focus on the body pressed against hers, calculated the general area of where his knee was, and sent her heel rocketing back.

The connection wasn’t as solid as she would have liked, bouncing off the kneecap to the outside of his knee, but his grunt and the loosening of his arms to instinctively distance himself from the source of discomfort was all she needed to drop, crouch back into his personal space and aim a nasty chop to his Adam’s apple. At the last second she pulled back, the hardened outer blade of her hand barely grazing his neck before she spun out of his hold completely and yelled, “Fire!”

It had taken less than five seconds, yet the demonstration was enough to make the class burst into spontaneous applause. And it would have made her smile if she hadn’t seen Nate’s micro-grimace and flex his knee.

Oh, crap.

In a heartbeat she signaled to her assistant to join them up at the front. What a great instructor she was. Come to her for training and be crippled in one simple class. She’d be lucky if he didn’t sue.

“If attacked from behind, it’s best to target the knees and feet before running for your life, screaming fire all the while. Go ahead and give it a try, taking turns as you go.” With a quick rundown of instructions for the assistant, she glanced over at Nate. “Follow me.”

* * *

Nate wasn’t sure what Ella had in store for him when she led him down a hallway outside the main gym, but when he saw the telltale red cross on the door she pushed through, he decided to offer up a faint limp. Sure, she had a kick that would have made a normal man cry for mercy, but he was made of sterner stuff. There was no need to tell her that, though, not as long as it got them a little alone time. Alone time meant he could question her without interruption and maybe lure her rare, sun-from-the-clouds smile out of hiding. Or maybe even breathe in the lavender and rosemary scent of her hair...

He caught his wayward thought and corralled it before it went too far. If Ella was who he thought she was, ideas like that were a definite no-no. If she truly was his target, that put her as off-limits as any woman could possibly be. Life had been too much for her; the last thing she needed was some strange guy who got off on sniffing her hair.

“Go ahead and hop up on that exam table.”

Nate brought his attention back to the small room while Ella closed the door behind them. It was about as big as a walk-in closet with white walls and the painfully bright lighting of several bare fluorescent tubes overhead, and smelled vaguely of the cleaners he associated with hospitals. A portable version of a doctor’s exam table waited

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