Shirley hit the wooden box nose first. She grunted in pain, but she pushed quickly away, dropping to her knees as the scream of air warned of another blow. As his fist stirred the hairs on the top of her head, she lashed out with a foot, trying to hook his leg and bring him down.
He jumped her leg, then pivoted, his heel smashing into her jaw. She flew backwards, hitting another box before sliding to the floor in an ungainly heap. The room whirled around her, and her face throbbed, the bitter taste of blood filling her mouth.
She took a shuddering breath, but it did little to ease the sick churning in her stomach. Her heart raced so bad it hurt, and energy surged in response, the sheer force of it making every muscle shake.
Or maybe that was fear. But across her trembling fingertips fire flickered, casting bright shadows through the dusky light.
It shouldn't be happening, not in this room.
