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Powerless (The Powerless Trilogy, #1)(35)

Author:Lauren Roberts

“Much better,” I say dully, despite being impressed. After a moment that was most definitely too long, I finally drop my hands from her hips. “Now, do it on your own. Just to make sure you were paying attention.”

She stills, facing the tree.

And then there’s a flash of silver hair as she swivels around, throwing a beautiful jab at my face.

Chapter Seventeen

Kai

I almost don’t dodge in time. Only years of fighting allow my reflexes to react so quickly.

“How was that?” she says sweetly, flashing that startling smile at me.

I huff out a laugh. “What if I didn’t duck, Gray?”

“I knew you’d duck, Azer.” She’s close to my face now, a wicked smile curving her lips when she repeats the exact phrase I told her after throwing a knife in her direction.

“Looks like someone is itching for a fight.” My eyes flick up her body, taking my time. Taking in her stance on the balls of her feet, her slightly raised hands, and every stitch of clothing clinging to her body in between.

“I’ve just been waiting for an excuse to punch that smirk off your face.” She swings at me again, knowing I’ll duck under it. She’s toying with me.

“Wouldn’t be the first time someone said that to me,” I say as we circle each other. We’ve backed into a small opening between the targets and the weapons rack opposite them. I show her my palms, surrendering before the fight has even begun. “You don’t really want to do this and neither do I. Especially because I wouldn’t want to mess up that pretty face of yours, darling.”

She all but rolls her eyes at me. “That’s funny because I won’t hesitate to mess up your pretty face.”

I smirk. “I knew you thought I was pretty.”

At that, she throws another punch at my face that I easily evade. We continue circling each other, slowly. Damp hair clings to my forehead and I comb my fingers through it, pushing it off my sticky skin.

“You do know that I have eight powers at my disposal right now, and any one of them could drop you.” I grin as I say it, watching as her eyes narrow.

“I don’t want to fight your power—I want to fight you. Just you.” Her piercing gaze never leaves mine as she says it, even as the other Elites turn their attention towards us, finding this fight far more interesting than their training.

“So, you just want me? No powers?”

“Yes. I just want you,” she breathes, annoyed with me.

My mouth twists into a crooked grin. “I knew you wanted me, Gray.”

And with that little comment, a high kick comes flying towards my face.

I block it with my hands and push her leg down, once again surprised by her strength. Before I can take another breath, a beautiful jab heads for my face, this one intended to meet its mark, hard.

I duck under it before grabbing her outstretched wrist and pulling her back against my chest as I twist her arm under her shoulder blade. “You’re going to have to do better than that, Gray,” I whisper against her ear, smiling.

She grunts and drives the elbow of her free arm into my stomach. The air whooshes out of my lungs, and she takes advantage of it. Pivoting, she swings her elbow high at my face, making my head snap to the side when it connects with my jaw. My grip on her arm loosens, and she spins out of my hold before throwing a right cross at the exact same spot on my jaw.

Damn.

I keep my head turned to the side, my tongue roaming over the inside of my cheek as my mouth begins to fill with blood. And then my gaze slowly slides to her. She’s on the balls of her feet, hands still raised in a fighting stance as she stares at me. And then she smiles, momentarily distracting me.

I laugh, deep and quiet before spitting blood onto the ground. “Much better, Gray.” I smile as I circle her, my fists instinctively raising. “I might actually need to fight back.”

Her smile slips before she’s suddenly dropping to the ground and sweeping her leg in a wide arc, intending to knock me to the dirt. I jump over it swiftly but she’s back on her feet in a split second, throwing a combination of punches. She peppers me with a series of uppercuts, jabs, and hooks, but I stay on defense, blocking her fists. With her quick movements, she finally gets in a sharp blow to my stomach, stealing my breath away.

Fine. If she wants me to fight, I’ll fight.

I won’t hurt her. Badly. In fact, she’s quite skilled, and despite my mocking, she is a fine fighter. But with my now bruising jaw and stomach, I’m done playing games.

She ducks before my fist meets the air where her head was. Then she kicks out a leg, swinging it towards my ribs. I grab her ankle right before it connects with my side and yank her forward. She stumbles towards me, and I grip her thigh against my side with one hand, while the other lands a blow to her cheekbone. It was a softer hit, but still hard enough to make her head snap to the side.

I let go of her leg at the same moment I wrap my foot behind her ankle still planted on the ground, giving it a good tug. She falls, hard. Violent coughs shake her body as soon as her back hits the dirt as she tries to suck air back into her lungs.

I hover over her with a smile, assuming the match is over.

Wrong.

She kicks me in the groin. Hard.

I double over, huffing out a pained laugh. “Cheap shot, darling.”

“Yes, but an effective one.” She jumps to her feet, panting even with a sly smile. Her hands are up, covering her face, while the rest of her body is covered in dirt. And then we are trading off blows and blocks as we toy with one another. It’s like a dance, and she is a fierce partner.

But for whatever reason, I refuse to throw my whole weight behind the punches. I reign myself in. Not enough to stop me from fighting back, but enough to keep her mostly unbroken. Though she is clearly not doing the same. She’s hitting hard, striking relentlessly, wanting to hurt me.

One minute we’re flirting and the next we’re fighting—possibly even both at the same time. I can’t seem to figure this vicious girl out.

After minutes of blocking and landing blows, we are both panting in the unbearable heat. Sweat rolls down my brow and stings my eyes as the group surrounding us cheers and grunts each time one of us takes a hit. I strike her with a combination of punches, my uppercut finding its mark under her jaw and jerking her head up. I follow it with a lazy jab which she dodges, grabbing my outstretched arm in one hand, and my opposite shoulder in the other. Then she steps close to me, driving a knee into my stomach.

But she’s left the arm that is holding my shoulder open and exposed, so I take advantage of it. I use both hands to grab hold of her forearm and wrist before pivoting so my back is against her chest. Then I use my momentum to raise her off the ground, throwing her over my shoulder and onto the dirt with a thud.

She’s on her back, wheezing from the impact of the hard ground as I stare down at her, hoping she’s finally given up. Wrong again. With surprising speed, she grips the back of my ankles with her hands and yanks with that strength of hers. Caught off guard, she manages to pull my feet from under me, sending the ground flying towards my back.

She’s up and on me in a second, practically jumping on top of my chest, placing her knees on either side of me. And then she cocks a bloody fist back, her smile triumphant.

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