Enchanted Revenge by Theresa M. Jones Page B

steps, Lily. I can’t teach you how to kill, not when you couldn’t even fend off an attack. We will work on defensive moves, before offensive moves.”
    Though what he said made sense, I didn’t want to hear it. I wasn’t going to confront those murderers only to cower and run away. But I didn’t say that, because I really did need to learn at least basic self-defense moves.
    He walked up closer to me and showed me how to stand.
    “First, when faced with an attacker, you should be steady on your feet. Place your feet shoulder width apart, and bend your knees, but just slightly.”
    I did as I was told, but then he shook his head and came to stand next to me so that we were both facing the fire now.
    “Like this,” he said. He opened his feet about two feet apart and barely bent his knees, not at all like I had been standing. So, I tried to make my body mimic his.
    “Yeah, that’s better. Next you should keep your arms up, like this.” He moved his hands up in front of him, just barely below his shoulders, and had his elbows bent. Again I tried to mimic him.
    “No. Don’t keep your elbows so close to you. Your arms need to be out so that you can move them quickly. And don’t clench your fists. If you keep your hands open, you are more likely to be able to grab onto your attacker and deflect his attacks.” As he said it, he had walked around in front of me and faced me, so that I had to look down at his hands.
    I could barely look at his hands though. He had placed them on my arms, to place them in the correct position. All I could do was look at his eyes. I knew they were green, but in the darkness of the night they looked almost black. Especially as he faced me and the flickering of the fire couldn’t reach them.
    He smelled so good. Like fresh air. Clean. Pure. Strong.
    “Good, that’s good,” he said, and then looked up into my eyes. They were so dark they reminded me of the Demons eyes on Supernatural . So freaky, and almost scary.
    He took a step back and then mimicked the position I was in. It felt weird to stand like that. Awkward. Unnatural. But I tried to maintain the position. I wanted so badly to be good at it.
    “One of the best things you can do, since you are so small, is to use your opponent’s weight against him. Standing as you are should give you an advantage. You can move quickly away, to the side, or you can pull your opponent down as they lunge for you.”
    I nodded, because I didn’t know what to say. He kept standing in that position, and then moving to one side or the other before getting back in the same position.
    “Try to find the position again on your own.”
    So I did. I moved to my side, and immediately felt better. Standing like a puppet didn’t feel right to me. Nevertheless, I tried to find the same position again.
    “Hands up and elbows out a little more. And your feet are too far apart.” I adjusted my stance, as he suggested. “Good. That’s good. Do it again.”
    And I did. I did it again, and again, and again. Before too long my arms ached from holding them up at such a strange position and my thighs ached more than even my feet did.
    “I think I got it, can we move on to something else?”
    “Things take practice. Keep going.” I sighed, to show my own annoyance, but did as I was told. “Now when someone comes at you, you will want to incapacitate them as soon as possible. The best places to aim are the eyes, nose, neck, groin, and knee.” As he named the places, he also pointed to them.
    “I’m sorry about earlier,” I said completely changing the subject. My parents had always lived by the rule that you never go to bed angry. And really, my anger was unjust. It shouldn’t have been directed at him. Especially not after everything he was doing to help me.
    Bringing me here was something he didn’t have to do. Teaching me how to defend myself, so not something he had to do. All of this was something I needed and could never have done without