Academy of Protectors (The Protector Guild Book 1) Page 5

  “Why? What’s been going on the last few weeks?” I studied Wade and Eli as they glanced at each other, clearly trying to discern how much they could say to us. I opened my mouth to encourage them to spill when a striking man walked up to us.

  He had deep brown skin and dark eyes that a girl could melt in. Great, more of that pretty I was talking about. I was going to get a complex living here.

  “Eli, Wade,” he nodded, “I hear you guys are showing the new recruits around, thought I’d introduce myself before you ruined their lives in training this morning.”

  “We were just talking about you, Arnell. This is Ro and Max, they arrived with Cyrus last night.” Wade paused while we all shook hands, I grinned at the way Arnell’s hungry eyes landed on Ro. Apparently turning girls to butter wasn’t his style. Ro blushed and I turned back to Wade, urging him to continue. “Oh, um, Arnell is a part of another one of our Alpha teams, here, he does a lot of our tech work. The guy’s a genius when it comes to computers. He’ll also be working with one or both of you over the next few weeks to get you acclimated to how we do things here. He’s a great teacher. If we didn’t need him so badly on field work, he’d probably take over several classes in the academy full-time.”

  Arnell bowed slightly, eyes only for Ro. “Looking forward to working with you both.” With a smirk that made even my heart stutter, he turned and walked back towards the building.

  “You’re drooling, Ro,” I whispered, flicking his chin with my finger. I wasn’t above teasing him about it after he’d called me out for admiring Eli last night.

  He lightly shoved me in retaliation, landing me in a pocket of mud. I flung my now filthy arm in his direction, pleased when the dirt splattered across his white shirt.

  “Oh, you two are going to be fun.” Eli smiled, stepping forward and opening a door to a large building. The architecture was much more modern than the castle, and it looked like it was styled roughly as an athletic stadium. “We’re here, try not to die.”

  Chapter Five

  Max

  The gym was huge, the stadium opening up into a giant floor plan filled with large blue sparring mats. The walls were all covered with various training weapons: wooden swords with dulled blades, staffs, and even real blades for throwing practice. The circular room was also lined with doors, which I guessed led to smaller, more intimate or specialized training rooms, and judging by the steam billowing beneath one of the doors, a large bathroom for cleaning up after training sessions. The idea of having a real, proper gym to train in was wild.

  How had Cyrus given all of this up for so many years? And why did he want us to miss out on the opportunity to train with the best as soon as possible?

  Annoyingly, my gaze almost instantly found Atlas, and I watched in guilty fascination as he and Declan sparred; they moved with impressive grace, like their fight was more of a dance, even though their smiles and laughs made it clear that they weren’t investing all of their energy into their actions. For a moment, their carefree battle and clear trust reminded me of Ro and all of our fights growing up. Sometimes, when training was how you spent your life, you had to learn to find fun in it. Maybe we would fit in here better than I’d originally thought.

  We weren’t like regular people, but maybe we were like these people.

  A small group of girls my age, maybe a little bit older, sat watching the battle—in particular Atlas—with adoration. I wondered, briefly if they were together, one of those bonded pairs that Eli mentioned last night. They seemed to anticipate each other’s every move, like they were two parts of a whole. They were completely oblivious to the gathered audience, lost instead in the movement.

  I was definitely rooting for Declan, but each time I thought she’d gained the edge, Atlas shifted unexpectedly and she was back at ground zero.

  Wade mumbled something about them being show-offs and led me and Ro to the large group of students. Judging by their appearance, I guessed they were all close to our age group, more or less. None looked older than twenty. Eli was right though, the men outnumbered the women significantly, and I counted only six femme-presenting people in the mass of at least fifty bodies. I wasn’t sure if there really were so few female protectors or if The Guild just didn’t accept them here as frequently as they did males.

  Eli catcalled, drawing Declan’s embarrassed attention, and they both stopped battling. Their surprised expressions made it clear that they weren’t aware they had an audience.

  “Looks like everyone is here early to see the new recruits,” Eli whispered, goosebumps trailing down my neck from the feel of his breath along the shell of my ear. He wasn’t even standing that close to me, but I was aware of him with every fiber of my body.

  “Everyone’s here, so no use waiting. Let’s get started now,” Atlas said, as glance around the room. He and Declan moved through the crowd, pairing everyone up. My heart dropped slightly when Atlas pulled Ro towards a larger man across the room.

  I’d never sparred with anyone other than Ro or Cyrus, and throwing my fist at someone seemed like an odd way to introduce myself or make new friends. Not that I had a whole lot of experience in the friendship department, so for all I knew, a fist in the face of a protector was like a hug to a human. Here’s hoping.

  Declan walked up to me, and my eyes were drawn to the fascinating designs tattooed along her arms. “Max, I’m going to pair you with Reza, I think you two will be a good fit for sparring. She’s one of our best fighters in The Guild, amongst both students and teams. It’ll be fun to see how you two match up.”

  A girl my build, but a few inches taller, walked up to us. She had beautiful blond hair wrapped back in an elaborate braided ponytail and dark blue eyes. I extended my hand for an introduction, excited by the prospect of making a new friend. Her gaze edged towards my offered hand and a disgusted grimace took over her otherwise pretty features. “You’ll get no special treatment from me, princess, just because you’ve trained with Cyrus and are the campus’s shiny new toy.”

  “Er, right. Nice to meet you, too.” I guess that friendship goal was a little presumptuous, then.

  Declan walked off shaking her head, the echo of her lilting chuckle amplifying my already frayed nerves.

  I watched as the other pairs squared off and began to spar, trying to get a feel for the fighting strategies they used here. Slowly, younger students and older protectors stumbled into the gym area, some veering off into the smaller rooms, others hopping into battle across the gym. I turned my attention back towards my class. There didn’t seem to be a signal, everyone just started fighting at once.

  Which meant that I wasn’t totally paying attention to Reza and didn’t get the memo that she wanted to start until I felt her fist colliding with my jaw. Apparently there was no formal bowing here or even a chipper whistle to tell us to ‘go.’

  Luckily, she made a breath of noise as she moved, so my reflexes had me leaning slightly to the right to avoid most of the impact. I turned my attention back to her, studying the placement of her feet, her hands, her shoulders. The first few punches were easy to deflect, as her eyes traveled towards her goal well before her body followed. And if anything, her added height would only benefit me—I was used to sparring with men who had bulk and inches on me.

  I remained on the defensive, studying, trying to soak in as much information about her style and approach as I could. One of Cyrus’s first rules was to learn as much about your enemy as possible—knowledge won battles long before brawn, as far as he was concerned.

  Getting frustrated with my evasions, Reza pounced, announcing her arrival with a loud grunt before she made contact. I stepped slightly to the side and, using her momentum, flipped her over me, landing her flat on her back. Her frustrated growl signaled that she was growing annoyed with our fight. I wasn’t as easy of an opponent as she’d planned, and now her heightened frustration would only make her sloppy. Did they not teach the students to mask their emotions in this place?

  Calmness and clarity were two of Cyrus’s staples. He’d been ramming them into me for as long as I could remember, so I’d assumed it was a protector thing. While most toddlers learned how to color inside the lines and play well with others, I was learning how to meditate as Cyrus deliberately tried to distract me. It was one of his favorite games. The guy had a sick sense of fun.

  After a few minutes, during which Reza’s efforts met with the same result, Declan called time. I turned, realizing that everyone’s eyes were on us, both our peers and the professional teams filtering in around the perimeter—the awareness of which seemed to heighten Reza’s embarrassment and solidify her hatred of me.

  I let out a sigh. Maybe the quickest way to make friends would be throwing my fights?

  I looked over at Ro and noticed a nice red welt lightly coloring his cheek and smirked. He was at a bit more of a disadvantage than I was. While I was used to fighting partners larger than me, he was used to the opposite. It looked like his current match was exactly that—a match.

  “Theo, come here. I want you to try pairing up with Max. Reza, you can go back to fighting Izzy.” Declan motioned me over towards Theo. Reza stormed across the room in a hurry, but not before shooting me a glare that had me feeling guilty, though I wasn’t really sure why.

  Theo was a couple of inches taller than me, but shorter than most of the other guys in the room. That said, he was bulky with hard muscle, and had at least fifty or sixty pounds on me. He gave my body a quick scan that had my skin crawling and then chuckled like he wasn’t impressed with what he found. I smiled, showing teeth—this was more like it. Fighting him would be fun.

  As soon as Eli called time, Theo charged. He was stronger than me, but his steps were hard and clunky, easy for me to evade. Using his weight against him, I leveraged my shoulder into his waistline, flipping him easily to the mat. In some ways, Reza was the better opponent. She announced her moves a lot of the time, but they were still good moves. Theo fought like he was throwing spaghetti at a wall, just hoping something would stick.

  His next attempt was met with an even harder thump to the ground, his male pride becoming as much of a hindrance to his style as his heavy movements. A large, meaty fist came barrelling towards my face. At the last moment, I ducked, using my left foot to sweep his legs.

  Theo’s face burned red with embarrassed frustration as he fell back again, bouncing slightly on the rubbery mat. Anger radiated off him in droves so strong I was afraid I’d get burnt. The lack of female protectors here made the men complacent, set in their archaic beliefs that men were the superior fighters. He thought it was a weakness, to lose to a girl. A better fighter would realize that I was simply well versed in the sport, a worthy adversary. Ro never acted like I’d attacked his masculinity on occasions when I beat him.

  While Theo gathered his ego on the floor, Atlas dragged Wade over to our fighting space. “Bentley, you’ll spar with Wade.”

  My body froze. Bentley.

  It seemed that Cyrus had given us his last name when he enrolled us here. We’d never had need for a surname before, and my belly warmed with the strange connection that gave us; he was claiming us as his, we were family. I knew we were family, of course, Ro and Cyrus were all I had. But Cyrus wasn’t the mushy sentimental sort, so this was unexpected.

  Theo charged off the mat, swearing softly until Atlas shot him a glare, effectively shutting him up. While he didn’t respect me, it was clear that he respected, even feared, Atlas. Wade stood in front of me, his posture alerting me instantly to the fact that he was a far better fighter than my previous two contenders. When he watched me, it wasn’t with the expectation that he would win. He seemed to view me as an equal of sorts, like he was intrigued to see how my style would react with his.

  Atlas stood at the edge of the mat, ready to observe, a realization that caused an unfamiliar nervousness to coat my muscles. I didn’t want to lose, sure. But the thought of losing while he witnessed it, had my blood heating to uncomfortable levels.

  Wade rolled his neck from side to side, offering a shy smile my way. When Atlas signaled the start of our match, Wade remained still, waiting for me to attack. He studied me intensely, like I was a science experiment and he was waiting for some unusual reaction to occur. I shivered slightly, uncomfortable with the attention and perusal. Neither of us moved for what felt like an eternity. It seemed that, like Theo, he wasn’t used to fighting against a girl, at least not one of my size. Though, unlike Theo, his hesitation seemed to be buried more in a fear of hurting me than fear for his own ego.

  Well, I’d fix that quickly. I wasn’t a delicate flower and I most definitely didn’t want to be treated like one either.

  I charged, feigning right before taking aim with my left fist. Wade was faster than Reza and Theo, and much better at reading his opponent. He ducked, but not quickly enough: my fist pressed lightly into his shoulder before I circled back and planted a foot into his right kidney. He landed on his knees with a whimper. Kidney hits hurt like a bitch, and I was mildly sorry since Wade seemed like a nice enough guy. But Cyrus taught me never to show mercy, not even towards him and Ro. We got extra laps if he thought we were going too easy on each other.

  I grinned at Wade, encouraging him to go on the offensive. He was fast and smart, able to hide most of his intentions. I could see why he made one of the best teams so young. Still, after ten minutes, only two of his hits landed, and when they did they were too soft. He was holding back, the knowledge of which fueled my frustration.

  When Ro took it easy on me, it was an insult, not a favor. It was something he’d only do when he was trying to piss me off. Usually, we were equals. Happy to give as good as we got.

  I lashed out, landing a hard kick into Wade’s abdomen before tackling him to the ground. I straddled his waist, my knees pinning him in place as I struck him with a few hits to the chest, hard enough to make him bruise but not cause any significant damage. His light blue eyes darkened, his hands making their way to my hips, holding me there but not resisting my attack. What kind of battle strategy was this place teaching these boys? No wonder they needed Cyrus here. The heat from his hands and his eyes had me pulling my attention away from the fight. I stopped swatting at his chest, staring down at him in confusion. The left side of his lips quirked up in a grin and he gave my waist a soft squeeze that made me squirm, before flipping me to the mat and reversing our positions.

  That...was not a strategy I was familiar with. I swallowed, trying desperately to dislodge the flutters rolling around in my abdomen. Being pinned underneath him like this was so much more intense and intimate than kissing Michael had been.

  “Enough.” Atlas nudged Wade off of me, then pulled me up by the shoulders, lifting me off the mat, his grip hard enough to bruise. “You held back intentionally, Wade. This isn’t a place to flirt. Not taking this seriously is how lives are lost.”

  Wade’s nostrils flared and I watched as his eyes stared daggers into Atlas’s. They seemed to be in a silent war of wills, until eventually Wade looked away first.

  Embarrassed, I ripped myself from Atlas’s grasp, looking out at the rest of the room. Almost everyone had stopped sparring to watch us. Except for Ro. He was currently pummeling his partner, apparently not needing more than a few minutes to adjust to fighting a new body type. He seemed to be having a lot more fun right now than I was, that’s for sure.

  “From now on, Ro and Max spar only with someone from our team,” Atlas said, still avoiding eye contact with me. “Wade, you’re done for the day. If you can figure out how to fight her like an equal, you can join in again tomorrow.”

  While Atlas was glaring at me like I was the embodiment of evil, and while I felt sorry for Wade’s clear frustration, it was nice that he was enforcing the fighting experience I needed. I wanted to improve and quickly. I hadn’t grown up around protectors other than Cyrus and Ro, and I didn’t want to be left behind or coddled. The werewolf attack was a rude awakening. The creatures I’d be expected to kill or capture were so much stronger than I was. And I was pretty damn good already, if I was honest with myself. So if I wanted to stand a chance, I needed to be great.

  For the rest of the morning, and well into the afternoon, I fought with Declan and Eli, sometimes both at once, shifting back and forth between hand-to-hand combat and using wooden staffs. After a few hours, I was drenched in an unattractive layer of sweat—both of my partners more than giving me a run for my money. I could take Eli more than half the time when we were just sparring, but his skills with the staff far outdid my own. I wasn’t nearly as good with weapons as I was without them, something that frustrated Cy to no end.

  And while Declan was quite a bit taller and curvier than me, which should have slowed her down, her moves were unpredictable and hard to defend against. I couldn’t get into her headspace the way I could with everyone else I’d fought. Atlas kept poor Ro busy for the rest of the morning, and from the purple and green shades pebbling his skin, I knew that Ro was on the losing end of most, if not all of those battles.

  When Atlas called time for the day, I collapsed onto the mat, chest lifting up and down in hard, heavy breaths. It was a good feeling—I always loved the exhaustion that sunk into my bones after a particularly good training session. And today, I got to spar with four new people, so my mind and body were stretched more tightly than I was used to. It was great.

  A small girl with short brown hair, warm olive skin, and gray eyes bent over me, offering her hand. She pulled me up with more strength than I would’ve given her credit for. I guess I also needed to toss out my assumptions and biases. Her skin was slick with sweat, but it somehow made her look like she was glowing, not grossly in need of a long shower.

  “Thanks,” I mumbled, my breath coming out awkward spurts from the workout. She was taller than me, but where most of the people here towered over me, she was only a couple of inches out of my range.