Crossroads (Crossroads Academy #1) by J.J. Bonds Page B

position as Garcia’s assistant speaks volumes.
    “Jun-bi?” I challenge him.
    “I’m always ready,” he replies bowing.
    I don’t dare take my eyes off of him, as I
move into a fighting stance. I force the sounds and movements of my
classmates from my mind. Right now it’s just Nikolai and I on the
mat. While I haven’t assessed his skill level, I know it surpasses
my own and that I must be alert. I don’t have to wait long for him
to break the tension. Nikolai goes on the attack immediately.
    He’s on me in a flash, swinging his left arm
in a hammer fist blow intended for the right side of my head. I get
my arms up to block the attack but leave my midsection exposed.
Nikolai anticipates the lack of protection and counters with his
left hand delivering a palm heel to my solar plexus. I’m thrown to
the ground by the force of the blow and slide off the edge of the
mat pathetically. Any butterflies I’d felt moments before have
vanished. The nerves in my abdomen now burn painfully from the
force of the blow, but I can’t quit despite having made such a
stupid beginners mistake. As I scramble to my feet, I am even more
certain that the attack was premeditated and that he’ll favor his
right hand.
    “Ready to surrender?” he asks cheerfully.
    “Never.” I probably don’t stand a chance of
beating him, but I’ll go down swinging.
    This time I attack first with a flurry of
closed fist punches that end with a spinning hook kick. He blocks
all of my advances easily and delivers a knife hand blow to my
lower back, again dropping me to the ground. I roll quickly from
his reach, anticipating a downward kick which meets only the mat in
the absence of my body.
    He’s extremely fast and agile which causes me
to miss often. It’s also becoming obvious that even when I do
manage to land a blow, the damage I’m inflicting on his rock hard
body is minimal in comparison to what he’s dishing out. I remember
my training with Viktor and tell myself that this is no different.
Except maybe it is. I’m certain Viktor never wanted to hurt me. I’m
less sure about Nikolai’s intentions.
    I jump to my feet again playing defense. I
just need to stay calm and let my training guide me as it did on
the first day of class.
    “I thought you were going to teach me
something new?” I taunt him, circling slowly.
    “There are many things I could teach you, if
only you weren’t so stubborn,” he returns calmly. So much for
goading him. He’s just as cool and collected as when we first
stepped onto the mat.
    “And here I thought stubbornness was one of
my better qualities.”
    I try another series of kicks alternated with
hand attacks hoping that the moves will give me an edge. No such
luck. I manage to land an elbow strike to his rib cage and several
blows to his arms and torso, but I can’t get a clean shot to his
head or any of the pressure points. The end result is that I find
myself returning to the mat over and over again, the recipient of
many well executed attacks by Nikolai.
    The gym has gotten loud. There’s a lot of
moaning and groaning mixed with the attack cries. I refuse to let
Nikolai get the best of me. I’m starting to get a feel for his
moves and manage to dodge his next assault. I catch him off guard
and am able to hit him with a crescent kick which glances off of
his head.
    His head snaps back, and I can see the look
of surprise on his face as he licks blood from his lip. He wasn’t
expecting the move. It’s a minor victory. His face confirms what
I’d suspected all along: he’s been holding back. And still he wiped
the mat with me. We stand there staring at each other for a moment,
assessing one another. The silence is broken only when Garcia calls
the class back to attention.
    “Good work today,” Nikolai commends me. I nod
respectfully, and he returns dutifully to Garcia’s side.
    I’m relieved when Garcia dismisses us. I’ll
recover quickly, but right now my body is protesting the abuse