Mesmer

Part 7

Two weeks. It took me fourteen days to figure out how to fight. With my mornings filled with pilates, krav maga, and jiu-jitsu—classes hand-selected by Wombo— it didn't take me long to figure out my style. James, on the other hand, already knew his. He was ruthless and cutthroat. His eyes always turned a shade darker every time Wombo signaled for him to attack. I think the thing Wombo said about the whole getting yourself killed bit stuck with him. Luckily, they had people for him to practice his skills with, and I didn't have to face him yet. I just sat there and watched him, and when it was my turn to fight, he watched me. Wombo said we would try fighting together again once we were better. We still had to know how each other worked; we couldn't get past that fact. I just wasn't entirely looking forward to that moment.

I was snapped out of my thinking by a loud thud. I saw the man training with James standing over him.  James' body was laying on the ground.

"That wasn't fair. We were taking a break." James gnarled at him.

"I told him to do it. You must be aware at all times, James," Wombo spoke.

I could tell James was pissed, so I walked over to give him a hand up.

Glaring at the man, he begrudgingly took my hand and dusted himself off.

The guy training with James spoke, "He might have told me to do it for the sake of your training, but I'd honestly like throwing you on your ass anytime."

I whipped my head to look at him. He was laughing.

James started at him, but I grabbed his arm, "James. It's not worth it. He doesn't even know you. He's just being annoying." I shake my head at James, but he refuses to look at me.

"James, enough," Wombo shouted from behind us.

"Good thing you have them telling you to stop. You actually have an excuse for not being able to take me on," the man snickered as he picked up his towel and water bottle. Before I knew it, James had shaken me off and grabbed the back of the man's shirt.

My reaction was fast, and I stepped in between the man's back and a very irritated James. My body was only an inch away from James. I lifted my hand and tilted his chin down so his eyes could meet mine. I whispered again, "It's not worth it." His eyes finally locked with mine. That shadow slowly fading. He scanned my face for a good 10 seconds before he grimaced and gave in. He let go of the guy's shirt.

Wombo finally spoke to the man, "I think it's time you leave."

He jogged off, and I realized I was holding my breath. I let it go and took a step back from James, the fact he didn't move away from me first clear on my mind.

Wombo stepped closer to us. "Don't mind him. He's an old agent that never mastered enough to enter the field."

"So that's what makes him a dick," James muttered.

"I suppose that's what might have him behaving the way he does. But you, James? What is your excuse? Where is the complete focus your seventh sense provides? You have found it. I know you have. You must learn to embrace it. Become one." Wombo then looked at me, "Both of you have only scratched the surface of what the seventh sense can offer. You will be able to tell when you've fully embraced it, and you will never want to return to original you."

He scanned our faces, both of us tired from the past two weeks of constant physical and mental training. His expression softened, and he sighed. "Mmm, yes. Yes. I see. For now, I think we should all go have a visit with Whitlock, yes? I have idea. Come," with that, he grunted and started walking away. James and I quickly following step.