The Cage (The Cage 1)

“Break time already?” He knelt and soaked his face, tossing his hair back.

Cora ignored the lines of water running down his neck. “Your dad learned hand-to-hand combat in the army, didn’t he? Did he ever teach you?”

Lucky’s grin faded. He wiped the water out of his eyes. “Yeah, the basics, and I took a few years of martial arts. Why?”

“Will you teach me?”

His face creased in confusion, until he followed her line of sight to the black window. “Look, I get why you’d want to know how to defend yourself, but the Kindred are too strong. The Caretaker threw Leon like he weighed nothing.”

“I need to know how,” she said. “I can’t stand feeling like this. Powerless.”

He squinted at the sun reluctantly, but then splashed another handful of water over his face. He stood and paced beside the oasis, drawing a wide circle with his toe.

“Come on, then.”

She jumped up, wiping the sand from her hands.

“First of all, it’s called combatives, not hand-to-hand. It can be any style of martial art or close-quarter combat system, but the one the army teaches is drill based. You practice certain techniques until they’re second nature. The most important thing is to recognize the situation you’re in and know what technique to use.”

“And if I just want to inflict serious pain on someone?”

He smiled. “No offense, but you’re not big enough to do damage to a flock of chickens. You need to focus on dodging blows and holds. Then we can talk about body-weight techniques where you might actually be able to hurt someone.”

Cora nodded. “Show me.”

They spent the next hour learning stances and kicks, and how to throw her weight to knock her opponent off balance, and which parts of the body were most vulnerable to attack—they could only assume the Kindred’s bodies were similar to theirs. Cora’s muscles blazed with exhaustion.

“This is called escaping the mount.” Lucky drew an X in the sand. “If you’re pinned in a choke hold or a joint lock.”

She came forward ready to fight, but he hooked a foot behind her ankle and off-balanced her back onto the sand. Surprise shoved the breath from her lungs. She started to push up, but Lucky straddled her chest.

“Not so fast. I’m going to show you a standard pin.”

He gripped her left wrist, and her pulse pounded with exhilaration from using her muscles this way for the first time—and from something else: she’d never been this close to a boy before. Certainly not like this, with his groin resting on her stomach. She’d gone to an all-girls school before Bay Pines, and afterward the only boys who approached her were more interested in being on the news for dating a convicted murderer, like she was some kind of rite of passage for jerks.

Her heart thudded so painfully, she was sure he could feel it through the layers of their clothes.

“Ready?” His voice caressed her ear.

The sand felt so warm against her back. She had never noticed before all the different colors in his eyes, flecks of copper and green and ocean blue.

“Your goal is to escape the mount,” he explained. “For someone your size, it’s less about strength and more about positioning. You want to do what’s called a bridge, thrust your hips up and to the side to throw me off balance, and then slip out. If you’re dying to punch someone, now would be the time, while he’s down. You’ll get the most force if you use an elbow to the temple.”

The idea of thrusting her hips against him made her face burn even harder. Her lips parted. She didn’t move.

“Any time now, Cora.”

His throat constricted as he swallowed. Maybe he felt it too, this attraction. This place did such strange things to all of them that she was so starved for human contact, her skin longing to brush against the fabric of his shirt.

Lucky leaned closer, so his face was an inch from hers.

“Cora?”

“Yeah.”

“Any time now.”

Her head nodded on its own. She only vaguely remembered she was supposed to be doing an escape of some sort. Right now there was only one thing on her mind, and judging from the way Lucky shifted on top of her, she didn’t think she was the only one.

She was sure that any moment, he’d kiss her.

“Hang on. There’s . . .” His breath was ragged. “There’s something I should tell you.”

“Mmhm,” she muttered, letting her jaw lightly brush his shoulder. He let out a tight breath and lowered his head, so the side of his face grazed hers.

“Really,” he breathed. “I have to tell you. Before . . . this happens.”

“Just stop talking,” she whispered. She tilted her head enough for her lips to graze his jaw, which tasted like the dryness of the sand. She was aware of every grain of sand, every pulse of sunlight, every inch that separated them.

Lucky tilted his head too, until their lips were a breath away from touching. This was going to be it. Her first kiss. With a Montana farm boy who smelled like motor grease and fresh-cut grass.

She parted her lips.

“You call that fighting?” a deep voice called.

25

Cora

CORA SAT TOO FAST and bumped heads with Lucky. His hands clamped over her protectively.

Leon stood on the closest wall, smirking. “Don’t let me interrupt.”

Lucky pushed himself to his feet. His face was flushed. She knew she must look the same and glanced at her reflection in the black window. The window . . . she’d forgotten about it. Had they been about to make out in front of the Kindred? Just like the Kindred wanted?

Lucky picked up his leather jacket, shaking out the sand a little too hard. “You’re supposed to be mapping the alpine areas, Leon.”

Leon jumped down from the wall and sauntered toward them. “I was, and it’s bloody freezing. I thought, What better place to warm up than a desert? And being the thoughtful guy I am, I came to help you two with the maze.” He smirked. “But it seems escape isn’t the first thing on your mind.”

Cora looked away. “He was teaching me to spar.”

“That what they’re calling it these days? Hell, sweetheart, I can show you a thing or two about sparring, if you want.”

“Back off,” Lucky said.

Leon gave a deep laugh. “Ease up, brother. She’s not my type. She reminds me of my sister.” He ran a hand over his face. “I’ve been watching the last ten minutes, and you fight like you’ve a stick up your ass.”