Fractured (Deep In Your Veins, #5)(57)

Imani rolled back her shoulders. “That’s fair.”

“What we need is a real test of strength to get an exact idea of how much progress you need to make,” said Sam.

“Okay, so how do we do that?”

“You can spar with me.”

Imani gaped. “You have to be kidding. I can’t defeat you! You have Pagori strength and you’re a Feeder! Hell, none of us could defeat you. Even Jared would find that hard.”

Jared inclined his head at that, not at all offended.

“I wouldn’t expect you to defeat me, Imani,” said Sam. “This isn’t us pitting ourselves against each other. I just want to get a good measure of your strength.”

“Coach, no,” I bit out. “You could hurt her. Not on purpose, but you could.”

Sam scowled at me. “Like I don’t know my own strength? Don’t insult me, Butch.”

“Let’s just get this over with,” said Imani.

My hand snapped out and circled her wrist. “No, not—”

She shook off my hold. “You should be happy. I’ll no doubt have my ass kicked right here in front of everybody. They’ll see just how much weaker I am than before, and you can rub it in.”

That wasn’t at all what I wanted. “Imani—”

“Fuck you, Butch. Fuck you sideways.” She marched to the northern side of the arena and took position there.

Taking position on the southern side, Sam braced her feet shoulder-width apart. “No using our gifts.”

“Not like it would do me much good against you anyway.”

Radiating anger, Paige sidled up to me. “If she gets any injuries, I’m transferring them to you.”

I wouldn’t blame her. Tension riding me, I kept my eyes on the two females ready to spar. In that moment, I was proud of Imani. She didn’t have an ounce of hope that she could take Sam on. But she wasn’t backing down; wasn’t simply accepting defeat. She would fight, even if it meant losing. Everyone in the arena saw that and would respect it.

For long minutes, nobody moved. The females just stared at each other, their gazes intense and alert. Anticipation sparked in the air, making the wait almost painful.

“One advantage you’ve got is that you don’t look like a vampire,” said Sam. “Oh, you have the pull of the Keja allure, but another vampire would dismiss the possibility of you being a Keja because your irises are normal. They might believe you’re human or another preternatural of some kind. In any case, they won’t expect a fight from you. Use that. Fake fear, give your opponent the image of a terrified human, and then surprise the f*ck out of them by doing this.” Sam’s body blurred as she rushed to Imani, fist cocked.

Imani blocked the punch with one arm and used her free hand to deliver a hard palm heel strike to Sam’s chest, sending the Feeder back a few feet.

Sam smiled. “Good. I half-expected you to move too early to overcompensate for your decrease in strength, but you didn’t move until you absolutely had to. Keep doing that.”

The females went at each other with a serious of punches, kicks, and dirty moves that Jared had taught them. Imani held her own. Oh, she hit the floor a few times—even crashed into the wall at one point. But she bounced back up every time. She also put Sam on her ass twice.

Sam’s breath left her lungs as she took a hard kick to the solar plexus. Imani followed that up with a punch that split Sam’s lip. The Feeder actually smiled. “Very good. I have to say I’m impressed.”

Imani didn’t respond. Just stared at Sam, her gaze unblinking.

“It’s not easy to switch off to everything but your opponent. Butch pissed you off, but you didn’t fight in anger. That’s—”

“Hold up.” Jared moved forward, concern on his features. “Sam, your lip isn’t healing.”

I frowned. Any vampire would heal pretty quickly from a small wound. As a hybrid, Sam healed exceptionally fast. Yet, Jared was right; the cut wasn’t healing.

I looked at Imani. She was still staring at Sam, seeming oblivious to everything else. No, not staring at Sam. Staring at her mouth. A mouth that was bleeding freely.

“Imani?” I called out. She didn’t respond. I headed straight to her. “Imani, what are you doing?” She was doing something. She was also ignoring me. I shook her a little. “Baby, stop.”

She double-blinked. And I could have sworn the rims of her pupils flashed silver for a second. Then she scowled as she seemed to finally see me. “What are you doing? Let go.”

“You called my blood.”

Imani frowned at Sam’s words. “What?”

“You called my blood.” Sam wasn’t pissed, she was fascinated.

“No, I didn’t.”

“I could feel a weird force pulling at it. As soon as you looked away, my lip healed.”

Paling, Imani shook her head. I understood. She’d had enough weird shit going on around her. She didn’t need more.

“Consciously or not, you called my blood to you,” Sam insisted.

“No.” Imani took a few steps back. “I can’t call blood.”

I reached for her, but she backed away even further. “Baby—”

In a blink, she was gone.

Fuck.