25. Cat Calls
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Moving slowly, eyes shut, Linnea focused deeply. Qi flowed around her and through her, swirling like the autumn leaves. She gathered her energy, coursing it down her arms. As she did, she leaped. A pair of chain daggers flew from her sleeves and dug deep into the training dummy opposite, and Linnea landed atop the dummy’s head. Clasping the head between her feet, Linnea threw herself backward, twisting at the same time.

Wood snapped. The dummy’s head came free. She threw the head away as she vaulted back to her feet. With a flick of her wrists, she called the chain daggers back to her, yanking them out of the dummy’s kidneys. They vanished into her sleeves.

Linnea breathed out. She turned to the next dummy, clad in the same purple as the first, and raised her hands. Her limbs tensed.

“Linnea!”

She startled, breaking her stance with half the leap she’d meant to enact. The chain daggers fell to the floor.

Lif turned the corner just in time to watch the daggers fall. He sniffed and shook his head. “Disappointing. What did I tell you? You’re weak. You should always be prepared to attack. Even if you’re surprised, even if it’s me, don’t stop your technique. See it through.”

Linnea saluted silently, bowing to Lif.

Lif wandered over to the dummy. He touched the purple robes, then his own. The colors almost matched. He clicked his tongue and cut his eyes at Linnea, raising a single brow.

Linnea continued to salute.

He straightened and crossed his arms. “Go ahead.”

Linnea vanished. She reappeared overhead, her body half hidden in the high beams of the vaulted training room. Her chain daggers hurtled toward Lif.

He waved his hand. The air blurred, and the daggers fell backward, all their momentum dead.

Linnea dropped toward him. Her feet flickered, and blades appeared at her toes. She kicked at his throat.

Again, the air blurred. Linnea slowed, falling at a snail’s pace. She twisted, trying to break free. The air blurred all around her, refusing to let her go.

Lif stepped forward, reaching up. Her neck fell into his hand. He closed his hand, tightening his grip around her throat. The air stopped blurring.

Linnea thrashed, clawing at his hand. Her fingertips changed, morphing into black claws, but they still scraped over his skin without leaving a single mark. 

“Foolish beast. You’re nothing. Nothing without me.”

Linnea lifted her lip in disgust even as she struggled.

Seeing it, Lif laughed. His grip tightened. Veins stood out on her throat. Her arms went limp, and her eyes rolled back, the fight leaving her.

He drew her close. “Why haven’t you gotten in Ossian’s bed yet? Little whore. It’s all you’re good for, so why are you being so useless? Do you want me to kill—”

Claws flashed across his face. One caught in the underside of his eyelid and slit it open by a hair’s breadth.

Lif froze. Startled, he lifted his hand. He touched his face, and the tips of his fingers came away red. Eyes maddened, he turned to Linnea.

Linnea bared her teeth at him, struggling to hiss but unable to find enough air for sound.

His hand curled into a claw, knuckles white. Linnea’s throat creaked.

Abruptly, he released her. Linnea slumped, coughing.

He knelt, helping her to a sit and rubbing her back. She flinched away, but he ignored it. “Good. Good, Linnea. Never stop fighting. Just like I taught you.”

“Fuck off and die,” she hissed through a damaged throat.

Lif sighed. He stood. “If I died, would that really be in your best interest? Who else would protect you? Who else would keep your secret?”

Linnea glared at him, silent.

He bared his teeth, anger shining through. “Now get your ass out there and get into Ossian’s bed. It can’t be that hard, can it? For a slut like you. Just show him your tits and—”

She turned her eyes away. Her lip twitched.

“Meow.”

Lif turned.

A fluffy calico stood at the window, clawing at the glass.

He laughed, stepping back. “He’s calling for you.”

Linnea drew herself to her feet. Refusing to look at Lif, she walked past him toward the window.

His hand closed around her neck from behind. He drew her toward him. A hand reached over her shoulder.

Linnea stiffened.

Lif slid a bottle of pills into her hand. “Heal your bruises.”

She glanced at him. Half a spark of hope appeared in her eyes.

“I don’t want to send him misshapen produce.”

Eyes dead, Linnea took the pills.

He released her. Standing still, he watched her head to the window.

Her hand on the window sill, Lif cleared his throat. Linnea froze.

“Don’t bother to come back if you haven’t slept with him.”

She pressed her lips together and climbed through the window. “Sid, does Oz need me?”

Sid chirped at Linnea. Turning, she flicked her tail, staring down at Lif with disapproval in her eyes.

“Shoo,” Lif snarled, tossing a bit of trash at the cat.

Sid turned tail, hissing. Linnea hurried after her. “Sid, come back.”

“Linnea.”

She paused, despite herself.

Lif grinned, a viciousness in the gesture, almost a hunger. “Prove that it was worth my time to pick you up. I fed you. I clothed you, I kept your secret. Do something for me, after everything I’ve done for you.”

Silently, Linnea nodded, and without another word, she ran away.


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