Seeker: Demon Killers [Fantasy/Action | Complete]

Chapter 21: No Telekinesis

"I will not tell you again, Carlos." Ross's voice was icier than the dead of winter. "If you don't knock Tora out cold, I will give you a week-long training marathon from dawn till dusk with no food during daylight hours."

Carlos turned white.

"You wouldn't."

"You want to try me?"

He swallowed, cold sweat breaking out over his face. Tora watched her. She knew it was a no-brainer. Carlos wouldn't sacrifice anything for rest and food, not even his beloved gaming consoles. She felt gingerly in the back of her mind for her telekinesis. Still nothing. The pot of golden liquid shimmered, enticing. Her throbbing neck still complained. She touched it; her fingers were icy on the hot skin. No doubt she'd have some impressive purple marks in an hour's time. Her nose and eyes had stopped running, however, for which she was thankful. She was not a pretty crier.

"It seems your fight isn't over," said Ross, giving Tora two pointed blinks.

Just as Carlos made to shimmer out of sight, Tora grabbed one of the sandbags stacked in the corner and threw them at him. His eyes, becoming translucent, widened. A dull thud sounded, followed by a shower of sand hitting the concrete floor, spilling all over the floor.

"Oh, man! You're clearing that up!"

"The loser does all the cleaning," said Tora with a grin, taking her stance. "And does the washing up after today!"

"You're making my life hell if I lose, Tor."

"Don't be a loser then." Despite the cockiness in her words, Tora couldn't shake off the feeling of unease as Ross crossed her arms – not without a wince – and observed.

Tora sprang forward. As expected, Carlos shimmered out of sight. Tora grinned. Carlos took the weight onto his back leg, about to strike her when she passed him, but she turned just before that point. Her momentum carried her body forward. She landed on her shoulder, taking the force into a roll. Carlos's fist whipped over her head, missing completely. Her extended leg swept backwards, connecting with his calf.

A shout sounded from above her head before he crashed onto the floor. Uttering an "oof", Carlos rolled out of the way of her next kick. His movement made a flurry of sand on the ground, marking his every action.

Tora didn't wait for his recovery. Carlos reacted too slow. A kick to his back – he shifted so her instep missed his spine – made him yell in pain. Hands clasped at her right ankle. She lifted her left to stamp on his wrist. He tugged, sending her crashing to the ground. Her brain surged with blood and her throat gave a spasm, making her gasp.

Her left foot kicked out, connecting with something soft. She heard a grunt, but the hands still clamped over her other ankle. She thrust her hands beneath her and pushed her body off the ground. Another tug sent her flat on her belly again, dragged backwards. Her elbows burned when the sand beneath ripped the skin apart. Pain shot down her hands, making her fingers tingle.

Her mind was blank throughout. Battle turned her instinctive, but a growing area of her mind kept a sharp eye on the pot. It was still full, not spilling. Her ability stayed flaccid and unresponsive.

A knee came down on her back.

She twisted, her neck straining. Sand dug into her skin, making her unseeing eye water. She breathed through the mouth; tiny particles caressed her chin.

Carlos knelt over her, sweat dripping down his face and panting. He still had her leg in one hand, preventing her from using any force with her lower body. His other hand was curled in a fist, drawn back.