The address took Kyra to an unassuming apartment building in the heart of Spaercka, a city in the Litten Dominion just over the border from Charais Gamor. It was the sort of building that didn't stand out, and not just because it was unremarkable. There was something about it where it quietly blended in with the surrounding apartments like a zebra in a crowd.

  The owners must have designed it this way, and it wasn't hard to understand why, if you were aware that it provided bulk accommodation for employees of a certain private military contractor.

  Besides the design features, there wasn't any security of concern. Why would it have, when the Litten Dominion was such a peaceful country? All the weapons and top-secret files were locked away in fenced-off compounds further afield, while this place only existed as a perk for the employees. Free housing close to the heart of the city where the mercenaries could enjoy themselves on their days off.

  The front entrance was propped open by a chair. Two burly residents were unloading kegs from the back of a pickup truck. One waved to her.

  "Are you looking for someone, miss?"

  Kyra put on her cheeriest smile and spoke in perfect Litten. "Victor's supposed to be back from deployment. I thought I'd just drop by and surprise him."

  The man turned to his friend. "Isn't he still back at the base?"

  The other man said, "I saw his car drive in an hour ago. He's probably hanging with the rest of the fellas in the gym."

  The first man added helpfully, "The gym's on the second floor. You can take any of the elevators up, but it's faster by stair."

  Stepping out of the stairway, she found the entire floor taken up by the gym. The weights and equipment were arranged around the perimeter, leaving the center open for a sparring arena where a group was gathered, a mix of genders with mostly men, cheering on the two fighters currently duking it out.

  One of the fighters was Victor.

  The other one seemed evenly matched. As the two traded blows, it wasn't clear who was going to come out on top. They must have been at it for some time already, as both fighters were drenched in sweat.

  The opponent grappled Victor to the floor, and their struggle continued in a writhing mess of limbs. The crowd was bending over to watch. It looked like Victor was coming out on top. His opponent struggled to break free from his hold. Both men's faces strained with effort.

  At last the opponent tapped out, and cheers erupted around them.

  Both fighters left the arena to friendly slaps on the back and warm words of encouragement and praise. They were all friends here.

  Victor seated himself on an empty bench press and downed an entire bottle of water before toweling himself off.

  Kyra slid up to him. "You were really good in there."

  "Thanks." He gave her little more than a passing glance before turning to the arena where the next fighters were hyping themselves up.

  "If you've got time later tonight," she continued, "maybe we can go a round. See how we match up."

  This got his attention. "You've got some experience in you?"

  "How about this? Loser buys dinner."

  "I eat for three men," he warned.

  "No matter to me," she replied, "since you'll be paying."

  One of his buddies, who'd been listening in, sauntered over and wrapped an arm around Victor's shoulder.

  "Oi, Victor," the man said, "don't tell me you're going to turn this fine lady down when she's put herself out there by making the first move? I'll help you out, my friend, and make sure you have the arena all to yourself tonight. And if you lose, you can shout us all drinks this weekend."

  Victor peeled the arm away. "You misunderstand, Duncan. The lady isn't just flirting. You see that confidence in her eyes? She's stronger than she looks."

  "Making excuses already?" Duncan turned to her. "If Victor flakes on you, come find me on the fifth floor. I'll give you a round in his place. And I'll cover dinner, win or lose."

  "Is he the flaky sort?" she asked.

  "See that, Duncan? The lady isn't interested in you. She's a real warrior who only recognizes true strength."

  "It's a shame," Duncan said. "I love bold women."

  Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

  Kyra squeezed Victor on the shoulder. "Let's have our match at six. That gives us time for dinner afterward."

  "You've cooked up a cunning plan to score a free dinner," Victor said. "I wouldn't look a gentleman if I don't go easy on you."

  "Trust me, you won't have to."

  Victor shook his head in disbelief. "All right. I just have to see where all this confidence is coming from. I'll see you here at six."

  She flashed a smile back at him before leaving the gym. Little did he know how his world was going to change.

  Victor Maxwell. Born to a prominent Litten family yet never wanting any part of their extensive business empire. The reasons for this were hazy, but the moment he came of age, he ran off and enlisted in the dominion army. Maybe it was an act of rebellion or maybe he saw military service as his true calling in life.

  After a tour of duty, he went on the work for a private military contractor. His family bought out that contractor, probably hoping to reclaim some control over their prodigal son. He simply left for another firm, and his entire team moved with him. His family bought that one out too, and Victor left for a third firm, where he remained to this day.

  Today was his first day home from his latest deployment, and the first and best opportunity for Kyra to recruit him.

  She showed up to the gym at six sharp and found him waiting alone. But you can never be sure of privacy around military specialists, and she was sure some of his buddies must be watching them over hidden cameras.

  "What's the betting pool at?" she asked.

  He snickered. "If I had to guess, I'd say it's pretty even. They think I'm going to go easy on you."

  "It would be a sensible approach," she said. "You're a trained warrior. There's no way a woman like me can match you in speed, strength, or experience. Normal people in this situation would just be treating it all in good fun."

  "Yet the atmosphere around you doesn't feel normal at all," he replied. "And I don't get the sense that you want me to go easy. You want me to beat me at my best, and you're confident you can do it too. Normally that sort of confidence only comes from ignorance, seen in people who don't know what they don't know. But the way you move, you've got some experience in you. You must know your limitations."

  She let out a hearty laugh. "Maybe it's my arrogance that's on another level."

  "Whether it's arrogance or ability, we shall soon find out," he replied.

  Victor took off his jacket and set it aside, revealing the tight-fitting tank top underneath. Kyra removed her blouse, dressing down into her padded sports bra and gym shorts.

  "A part of me wants to skip the fight and head straight to dinner," Victor said, warming up with some bounces. "But a bigger part wants to see if you've really got all the moves."

  "You better show me yours as well," she said.

  They shifted into their stances.

  Because others were sure to be watching, Kyra had to hold herself back to a believable human standard. But that was her plan anyway, audience or not. Sometimes an overwhelming victory can feel underwhelming, and a close match can leave more of an impression.

  Victor was waiting for her to make the first move. A sensible approach, being cautious while appearing sporting for the cameras.

  She got things started with a few simple jabs. He evaded easily, and she stepped nimbly away before he could retaliate. This sequence they repeated, getting faster each time. He made no attempt to hit her back.

  "What's the matter?" she taunted. "Can't remember your moves?"

  He didn't rise to the bait and instead maintained his laser-sharp focus.

  Was he just hoping to tire her out? It wasn't going to work. She routinely fought at a higher intensity all through the night.

  She followed her next jabs up with a right cross. This one he had to block, and her fist connected harmlessly with his arm. But the unexpected force behind her blow made his eyes widen. Now he understood that he couldn't last on defense alone.

  She'd also left herself open to a counterattack. This time he didn't let the chance slip by, but she expertly avoided it and backed away out of reach while making it look like a close call.

  Having tasted her strength, Victor switched to the offensive, surging forward and unleashing a flurry of punches.

  He was fast but she was faster.

  The means of her victory always lay in speed. A feat of strength would attract too much scrutiny. Even speed carried that risk, but there's more than one kind of speed. Physically she made sure her movements appeared a fraction slower than his. It was an advantage he couldn't capitalize on because she was faster where it counted, and that was in assessing and reacting. To him it must have felt like she could read his mind.

  But to an observer it was like watching him clumsily trying to swat a fly. No one questions that the human is stronger, but sometimes they end up slapping themseves on the nose. Somehow his attacks always missed by a hair's breadth or she ducked just the right way or hovered just out of reach.

  The nose-slapping moment came when he extended himself too far, and she was able to step into the perfect position to take advantage of his momentary shift in balance. With a push from the right angle and a pull from another, she turned his own momentum against him, causing him to stumble.

  From there she didn't give him the time to recover, and quickly had him pinned on the ground.

  "I concede," he said in breathless disbelief.

  She helped him to his feet. He looked like he neded a few more moments to process what just happened.

  "That's worked up an appetite!" she said cheerfully. "Let's get ourselves cleaned up and head out, shall we?"

  "Y-yeah . . ."

  There were showers in the gym, and then they took the elevator down to the basement.

  If you knew nothing about Victor, you could be forgiven for assuming that he'd be the sort to drive a truck. Why wouldn't he? Everyone knew it was what soldiers did, and no one knew that better than the soldiers themselves. Besides, he'd struggle to fit into any car that didn't spill over into the next parking space.

  But Kyra knew better. Victor had come from money. He didn't have to show off. And he also wasn't as big as he looked. People just got that impression from the way he carried himself. For some reason he just seemed to occupy more space than he actually did.

  She smiled when she saw the car. "Modest."

  A better descriptor would have been beaten.

  "I hope I'm not disappointing," he said.

  "As long as there's room for me," she replied.

  They went to grab some take-out and then found a quiet spot at a park to set up their picnic. It was busier than she expected, but the other visitors more or less stuck to the walking trails, so there wasn't any danger of anyone overhearing. To the outside world, they were just another couple enjoying the sunset.

  "Where did you learn those moves?" he asked.

  "Do you want to learn?"

  "I'm always looking to improve."

  "Then you're in luck," she said. "I happen to be in need of another disciple."