Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 55109 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 220(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55109 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 220(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
“This place is going to make me so fucking bored I’ll put my eyes out for something to do,” I announce. “I like the computers, but I don’t want to live here. This is a place people go to rot. The whole place is decaying. What’s being done here isn’t right.”
“It’s only been a few weeks. Give it time. You’ll settle in. You can do some more work tomorrow, won’t that be nice?”
I’ve always been able to bury myself in my work, but now the prospect of doing that makes me feel as though I am just avoiding the truly important things in life.
“I need to get out of here. It’s a place women go to be eaten alive. Nina’s miserable. Anita’s convinced she’s a demon.”
“She is a demon, Elise. That’s the problem. It’s not that Direview is twisted, it’s that you keep fighting what your own eyes and senses tell you. You’re already trying forgetting how that blade felt in your hand, aren’t you? You’re pushing it to the verges of your mind and looking for ways to deny it. You’re hoping all of this might somehow be explained by carbon monoxide or something…”
“Carbon monoxide! Yes! That would make so much sense.” I snap my fingers. “Direview probably has a CO problem, and that’s probably why you all think you’re angels and demons and whatnot. We should get a detection kit.”
He gives me a dark look.
“Fine,” I sigh. “It’s all real. I’m a magical angel girl. And I’m bored.”
He smacks my ass with the flat of a wooden sword. I don’t know where the fuck that came from. I guess I wasn’t paying attention. Too busy whining about the circumstances to notice the circumstances. “Let me unbore you, brat. Let’s go train.”
“I can’t.”
He raises a dark brow at me. “Why not?”
“The computers…”
“Are fine. What else have you got?”
“My period…”
“Ended days ago. I was inside you last night, brat. What else.”
I can’t think of anything else besides I don’t want to, and I already know that Cosmos doesn’t care if I want to. With a deep internal sigh, I acquiesce. How bad can it be?
The only good part of training remains watching Cosmos shirtless. The way his muscles work when he moves is pure poetry. It’s like having my very own strip tease playing out right in front of me.
Sword play is not my forte. I remain much more interested in the archaic technology in the little green room upstairs. Unfortunately, I don’t have keys under my fingers. Instead I have the firm hardness of the hilt of a practice sword.
“There are many traditional styles of using the sword,” Cosmos says. “Arguably one of the most effective is Iaido, a Japanese art involving killing with the fewest motions possible. It is about refined movements, swiftness, and particular attention to angles.”
“Show me.”
That’s what I say whenever I’m trying to get out of doing whatever it is he is doing. It has worked a dozen times before. Today it doesn’t work at all.
“I’ll demonstrate. You follow.”
It’s not that hard to do, I suppose, but Cosmos is a much more stern teacher than he is husband. He shows me a movement, and I attempt to half-heartedly emulate it while wishing the entire ordeal were already over.
“Bring your elbow in, and your… elbow in, Elise. Are you listening?”
I am already tired of this. I drop both elbows and scowl at him. “I don’t want to learn how to do whatever this is! I’m not interested!”
“Don’t you want to be able to take fiery revenge on those who came for you?”
“Not really.”
“Wait. What?” He looks at me like a stunned, tattooed blue mullet.
“I just want a nice, quiet life. I don’t need revenge. What I saw you do… you’ve exacted enough revenge for me several times over.”
“Do you not understand how dangerous you could be?”
“I thought that was a bad thing?”
“No. It’s not a bad thing. It’s a strength. And it could be a gift to the world. When you refuse to train, you’re not refusing it for yourself. You’re refusing it for everybody. There are others who will be targeted, and who can be saved if we take the fight to Fleisch.”
“Then take the fight to Fleisch. I’m not a marine. I’m not a fighter. I’m a scientist.”
I drop the sword and storm upstairs. I just want to be cast in the friendly glow of a computer screen. I want to be separate from the world, observing it, safely away from anything that could actually happen to me.
I expect Cosmos to come after me — and he does. He grabs me by the arm and swings me around to face him in the middle of the kitchen. I can see disappointment in his eyes. I hate that, but I hate his plan for me even more.