Blue Flames

Chapter 12

"When you're truly angry, you turn into one of those crazy wild cats you like so much."

Those were uncle Robert's words to me after a particularly grueling fight. I didn't remember what I was angry with him about, it had seemed so important at the time. But by the end of the fight, he really looked like he fought a wild cat. His clothes were all shredded, he was bleeding from multiple cuts and his left eye was swollen shut. We had been fighting bare handed.

Of course, I hadn't looked much better, but ever since that day, I promised myself that if I could help it, I would never fight someone when I was that angry.

I decided to give myself a break today. Because just like uncle Robert had taught me not to fight while angry, he also taught me not to let people walk all over me. "Immortals respect strength," he'd said, "Now, Ellie, strength isn't always physical, but sometimes, the physical aspect does count greatly."

"Do you have any steel knives?" I asked Irene, she nodded and handed me two from her thigh sheaths.

"We can even get you a sword, if you want," the vampire said, swinging his sword again and putting himself into a fighting stance.

"That won't be necessary."

I weighed Irene's knives in my hand, threw them in the air a few times to get a feel of how they handled.

"Shall we do this, then?" I slowly walked towards the vampire, the immortals in the hall were all watching.

"Sure, Darling," he said in a tone that made my blood boil some more. "I'll go easy on you, who knows, maybe I can show you a good time after this. I'd love a roll in the hay with a human."

A few men snickered, drawing glares of most females around. Any guilt I felt about fighting while angry just vanished. Disgusting asshole. Oh, I would enjoy this, I would enjoy this like I hadn't enjoyed anything in a long, long while.

We circled each other, our eyes locked. I observed his body for a while, the way his feet moved, the way he held his sword, his eyes. I tested his reflex by faking a step forward. Too slow. Was he faking it or was he really that slow?

Oh well, only one way to find out.

Swords are great and all. But once your opponent gets too close, it becomes useless for someone who can't fight well.

I charged at the vampire, keeping my movements deliberately slow. He saw me coming and thrust his sword straight at my chest level.

I dodged the weapon with enough room for an elephant to fit in, then went straight in, close enough that he couldn't use his sword. With my usual speed, I hit him twice in the solar plexus, punched him in the throat and was out of his reach before he knew what hit him.

He really was slow.

Whispers and gasps filled the air. The vampire was struggling for breath. It may take a long time to kill us, but suffocating was no fun. Now that he was in pain, his reaction time was even worse. I got close, he swung his sword. I ducked and knocked it out of the way with a high kick. His grip on the sword was good, though, so he didn't drop it.

He swung again, faster this time. He was recovering from losing his breath. Oh, no. That wouldn't do, now, would it? I jumped out of the way, then as he was still in the process of swinging the sword back, I zipped behind him and kicked his knees from behind.

He fell on his knees. I brought my elbow down on the top of his head, then hit both his temples with the handles of the knives in my hands.

Good night, asshole.