The Greater Darkness: A Dark YA Urban Fantasy Book With Vampires

Chapter 11

Geoffrey crept across the clean, blue mat towards Venice. His left hand weaved slightly to screen the blunt practice knife in his right hand, thereby preventing it from being captured or trapped. Venice slowly circled, mirroring his movements--save for the fact that her right foot was forward in the 'short timer' stance commonly favored by smaller knife fighters who needed to try and negate some of the reach advantage of their opponents.

As Geoffrey realized that his left hand had shifted out of position, Venice struck at it with her practice knife, trying to make one of the many small cuts that, in a real fight, would be used to bleed him out until he was too weak to continue.

The reflexes that had saved him a number of times already took over and Geoffrey slapped Venice's wrist behind the knife. The blow sent the knife and the hand holding it wide. Geoffrey took advantage of the opening to step in and strike, choosing to reverse his knife and hit her in the head in the split second he had to choose his target.

Rather than trying to counterattack as Geoffrey expected, Venice took a quick step back and swore at him. "I've told you six or seven times now. If you are going to slash someone, do it somewhere that there are major blood vessels near the surface so you can do some damage. You pull that kind of crap in a real fight, and you'll probably end up dead."

Geoffrey recoiled slightly from the venom in Venice's voice. "I'm sorry, I was just thinking that maybe I could practice strikes that would incapacitate an opponent without killing them."

Rather than being calmed by Geoffrey's words, as he'd expected, Venice swore again and threw her practice knife at him. The dull pot metal made it through two complete revolutions before Geoffrey's hand reached up and plucked it from the air a few inches in front of his face. He wished it were that easy to deflect Venice's words.

"You don't fight to subdue. You've still got most of the reflexes you spent decades developing, but if you keep trying to override them you're going to end up dead. One stupid assassination where you almost got yourself killed doesn't even come close to making you qualified to start making up new tactics. If you get in a fight, one of two things happened. Either you started it or they did. If you decide to start something you bloody well better have decided that you're ready to go all the way and kill the sod. Otherwise you've got no business getting involved in the first place. If someone else starts something, you can bet that they'll be more than ready to kill you and leave your morally-superior butt dead on the curb."

Geoffrey opened his mouth to respond that he'd been in more than just the one confrontation, but changed his mind. Venice didn't need to know about that. Besides, even if he told her about that particular fight it wouldn't help his case. He'd fought to kill that time too, rather than trying to incapacitate his opponents.

The fact that Geoffrey didn't argue with her seemed to mollify Venice somewhat. She simply collected her stuff and headed towards the locker room instead of remaining to verbally flay him as she normally would have.

Shrugging resignedly, Geoffrey pulled his things together and walked the other direction towards the male dressing room and its shiny new facilities. At least most of the rest of the training session had gone well. Venice had been right to convince him to come here. Her gym was much nicer than his apartment. Not only that, the fact that the two of them kept such ungodly hours meant that they pretty much had the entire place to themselves.

The vampire showered and changed as quickly as he was able, but somehow Venice was still already done and waiting for him in the lobby when he finished. It boggled the mind that she was able to get ready so quickly and still look impeccable when she was done.

Geoffrey looked Venice over as he approached her and recognized some of the subtle clues he'd started to identify that indicated something was still bothering her. It wasn't like her to hold onto something for very long. Usually she would just ream him and then move on. He needed a way to try and defuse the situation. He cleared his throat and then said the first thing that came to his mind.