You'll like him," she assures me. "He's perfect for me."
I take her word for it. I've got my own romantic connections to worry about. Namely, why the hell am I dreaming about Victor?
I'm grateful when Vivi veers off and Michael takes her place, wrapping his arm around me to draw me in against his side. Strong. Solid. There's comfort here, familiarity.
He leans down and whispers, "Anything more on what happened last night?"
"No." Reap called Rachel this morning. Autopsy revealed nothing new. I wonder if Victor got in to see the body before it was placed in the sun for disposal. "Reap asked if we wanted the fangs."
Some people collect them as trophies. I'm not sure why I'm suddenly bothered by the practice.
Michael appears appalled. "Why would I?"
His reaction reassures me, makes me want to hug him. "Collecting them seems kinda barbaric, doesn't it?" I ask.
"Yeah, I've never understood people who do that." He shakes his head, then shifts to a new topic. "So, have you heard about this new guy?"
"Yeah. Sinclair: goes by Sin, came in on the Night Train from Los Angeles."
"Whoa!" He looks taken aback. "Do delegates keep details on everyone?"
I laugh. "No. He's in my first class."
"What did you think of him?"
"I wasn't nearly as impressed as Vivi. I think she's going to pick out her wedding gown after school."
He smiles. He has the best smile, nice and fang-less.
At the gym, we split off to go into our respective dressing rooms. With no friendly faces among the girls of this class, I quickly change into my workout sweats and head into the gym.
Lo and behold if Sin isn't in there with us. His sweatpants and a tight-fitting shirt reveal more about his physique. He's slender, but every muscle is so defined he could be studied for anatomy labs.
The teacher barely acknowledges him, simply marking him off on the updated roster. But I can see Michael checking Sin out, trying to measure his worth. Since he's been accepted into the elite training program, he looks at everyone a little differently, assessing strengths and weaknesses automatically. His competitive side also seems to have doubled, becoming a beast all its own. I suppose he always feels he has something to prove now; he has to show that he deserves to be in the Night Watchmen more than anyone else.
"Okay, ladies, you're with me," Ms. Richards says, and takes us to one side of the gym.
We begin the routine: running and then quick-drawing our stakes; running and then striking the dummies with our bare hands; running and then staking them through the heart. I imagine that each one is Victor, but I find myself missing the blows. Strange. So I switch to picturing one of the vamps I encountered on the trolley—the ones Victor saved me from. Dead center through the heart every time. If I ask Vivi about it, she'll probably say that subconsciously I don't want to kill Victor. She'd be wrong.
Suddenly I notice that I'm the only one still doing drills. All the other girls are simply standing there, staring across the room. I ease around one of them to see what's going on.
The guys have paired up and are wrestling one another, practicing complex throws and moves on the mat. I don't think it's a coincidence that Michael has paired up against Sin.
Without realizing it, we start moving toward the action, and it isn't long before the other guys stop what they're doing and surround the dueling pair. Michael and Sin are locked in battle. It's only training, of course, and they aren't trying to kill each other, but they are definitely trying to prove something. I think Michael was looking for an easy fight; he wanted to quickly dominate Sin so that the new kid would know who the top dog in this school is. But it's obvious Sin is going to make Michael earn that title. They're both skilled fighters.
Michael grabs Sin's arm and tries to throw him over his shoulder, but Sin's too fast, his wiry body finding a weak point and exploiting it. Somehow, it's Sin who manages to ground his opponent. Michael's body hits the mat with a resounding thud. It's the first time I've seen someone standing over Michael, victorious. But it's only for a second. Michael kicks Sin's legs out from under him, and he lands hard on his back.
"This is good," Lila says, her attention so caught up in the two guys that I doubt she knows I'm next to her. The audience surrounding the spectacle isn't cheering for either side, but I'm rooting for Michael, of course. And not just because he's my boyfriend. It wouldn't be fitting for the new guy to win. I mean, he's the new guy! I know how hard Michael works and trains.
But as the pair continues, I grow nervous. They seem equal, as if each were fighting a mirror opponent. The only difference is that Sin seems to be smiling more, enjoying himself, and maybe breathing just a little easier.
Then he gets too cocky and charges in. I gasp as Michael uses Sin's momentum against him and, in one final move, lifts Sin off the mat and slams him down. I cringe at the sound of what has to be bone breaking. The room is still as everyone waits, wondering if the fight will continue. Michael stands tall right now, but he isn't prepared to keep going. He wants this over.
It's almost as if Sin picks up on that, too. He reaches his hand up, and Michael takes it, lifting Sin back to his feet. Some kind of man language passes between them. Nothing is said, but everything is understood. Michael will remain at the top, but Sin is close behind. There is scattered applause from the class, and the guys wave us off. Mr. Simmons blows his whistle and begins herding everyone back to their assignments
I dash across the gym and place my hand on Michael's shoulder. I can feel him trembling from the adrenaline rush. He turns to look at me, and I can see the warrior in his eyes. For him, this wasn't just some exercise. He was in combat mode.
"You were awesome," I tell him.
"The guy's good."
"He just got lucky."
"Maybe."
I hug him hard. I don't care who's watching. "I always feel safe when I'm with you."
"Hey, what's this?" He puts me at arm's length and studies me.
I don't know if it's the stupid dream, or watching Michael fight so hard for his place as the best soldier in the school, or the craziness of the past couple of days, but I say, "I just want you to know that you're important to me."
Michael grins with triumph and pleasure at my words. "I do know."
"Colt!" Mr. Simmons yells.
"Later," Michael says, giving me a quick kiss before darting across the gym to where the guys are working out.
I go back to the girls' side and we finish our drills. I've never seen anyone come close to besting Michael, and Sin's smile, even in defeat, makes me wonder what secrets he brought with him from Los Angeles.