I looked up and found that the hairs on his arm were standing up. His face wasn’t teasing now. “Its okay, Ares, but just so you know, my control and my mood, not so good today.”

He stepped back, nodding. “Sorry, ma’am.”

I didn’t argue about the ma’am part. I just turned and stepped out on the track. I started at a slow jog. Stephen, Gregory, and Nathaniel fell into pace with me. Nicky started with us, but his natural stride wouldn’t keep him with us. The thud of feet sounded behind us, and the crowd of guards spilled around us. I picked up my pace just a touch so we’d all have a good warm-up lap, but I had no illusions about what the pace would be.

We began to split up into two groups. Those six feet and more were ahead in a long-legged pack. The rest of us stayed a little behind them at a pace that worked for us. The tallest person who stayed with us was Dino. Like I said, he ran like a lumbering elephant and would eventually fall behind all of us, but under that layer of hard-looking fat was nothing but muscle. He was built like an old-time linebacker.

I wasn’t fast, but I was relentless and I had stamina. When I’d been merely human I’d done a six-minute mile. Now I was faster, but then so was everyone on the track.

I didn’t speed up. I didn’t try to stay ahead of anyone. When Ares and some others lapped us in a full-out race I just kept running. Nathaniel, Stephen, Gregory, and Dino stayed with me. Somewhere on the fourth mile Dino faded a little so he was behind us, but not much behind us. Running with us as opposed to the other guards had helped him increase his stamina; at least with us he didn’t get as discouraged, and we didn’t give him a hard time about not being the fastest man on the track.

I concentrated on putting one foot ahead of the other. I concentrated on placement of my body in space on the track. I let the world narrow down to my body working on the track, arms going back and forth, legs moving, all of it just moving. I was aware of Nathaniel on one side and Stephen on the other. I knew Gregory was on the other side of him. I could hear Dino’s breathing behind us, but it was all peripheral. I ran, and let everything else go away.

I ran until my hair streamed out behind me, no need to tie it because it wasn’t touching my back. I ran until I had no air for talking, or anything else. I ran until sweat trickled down my spine and I heard Nathaniel’s longer legs stretch out to stay at my side. Everyone else was bunched near me.

I found enough air to say, “Nathaniel, do it.”

He didn’t argue, he just stretched out and ran. He was five-seven, and at least half of that was leg. I had a moment of seeing his braid bouncing ahead of me, and then I kicked it up. I pulled beside him, stretching to stay there. Stephen and Gregory pounded up beside me, and the four of us ran. Dino wouldn’t try to keep up now.

We raced around the track and found the taller men on the edge of it regaining their breath. We ran past them and it was all about running. It was all about staying with Nathaniel, keeping that pace. We passed the other men where they rested a second time.

I managed to say, “Kick it!”

Nathaniel kicked it, and we ran. We ran so fast that the gym blurred around me. We ran faster than I’d ever tried to before. We ran and I didn’t question that I could do it. That I could keep up, that I could push us all. When we passed the men a third time, I gasped, “Slow it.”

He did, and we did a cool-down lap so that we ended with the other men who were still sitting, standing, and watching us. “Not bad,” Ares said.

“Not bad?” God said. “Fuck you, Ares.”

I was still gasping a little as I said, “It’s okay, God. Ares is just mad that he’s fast out of the gate but doesn’t have the stamina to keep up.”

The men made appreciative noises at the comment. I watched Ares think about getting upset about it, and then he laughed. “I guess I deserved that.”

“Damn straight,” Emmanuel said.

Gregory, panting beside me, said, “I’ve never seen you run like that, Anita.”

I bent back, stretching out the stitch in my side. “Me, either.”

“You needed it,” Nathaniel said. There was a sheen of sweat on his face. I’d never seen the three of them so winded from running with me. I’d always felt before that they held back because I was with them, but not today.

Nicky came over to us. He didn’t say anything, just came to stand with us instead of the other guards.

“I need some tape, some gloves, and a bag,” I said.

Nicky turned and went in search of what I’d asked. Was it arrogance to assume that, or had he just taught me that he did exactly what I asked?

“You want to work the heavy bag after that run?” Ares said.

I laughed, still waiting for my pulse to find a normal rhythm. “See, no stamina.”

“If you can do the bag after this, so can I.”

“Have you seen her hit a heavy bag?” Lisandro asked.

Ares looked puzzled. “No.”

“Are you going to try to keep up with her?” Lisandro asked.

“If I say yes, then what?”

“We’ll start taking bets.” That Lisandro would say it, and not God, or Dino, or Graham, said that Ares had been snotty with more than just me. It wasn’t just me being a girl and small, it was him.

“How do we score it?” I asked.

“Stamina,” Lisandro said. “Loser quits first.”

Ares looked at Lisandro and then to me. He was frowning as if trying to see something that he was missing. “You’ve never seen me work the heavy bag.”

“No,” Lisandro said, “but I’ve seen her.”

Again, Ares looked at me. “She can run; that doesn’t mean she can hit.”

Lisandro shrugged. “If you think you can outlast our negra gatita, put your money where your mouth is.”

“What does that mean? Negra is black, but I don’t know the second word.”

“It means black kitten,” I said, with my pulse almost even again.

Ares studied me. “And you’re okay with them calling you their black kitten?”

“They’re wererats, Ares,” I said.

He frowned at me.

“They’re not calling me their little black rat. Think it through,” I said. I went to find some tape for my wrists and some gloves.

37

THE BAGS WERE in a smaller room off the main area. Ares and I were taped up and gloved, and I had pads on my feet and shins, too. We had a heavy bag apiece, close to each other, but not too close. We weren’t just going to be using our upper body on the bag, or I wasn’t. If you’re going to kick a bag, you need more room.

Ares made fun of the fact that I was wearing padding on my legs and feet. I ignored him and started hitting the bag. I punched like I’d been taught: Lead with your shoulder, your whole body turning into it and that twist of the wrist at the end, and aiming not to hit the bag, but to hit through the bag to the other side. You always visualized whatever blow, throw, or any force as a few inches deeper. The goal was always through your target, not on top of it.

Ares worked the bag the way he’d run, fast out of the box, heavy hitting, trying to make the bag move. I started slower, getting a feel for it, hitting fists, arms, working in close, then out. I started kicking, trying to kick through the bag. The last time I’d worked on the bag, Haven had been on the other bag. I pushed the thought away and kicked using the side of my leg, the front, switching legs.

Ares was flashy. I was punishing. He made his bag move more, but mine moved. His combinations were faster, but it wasn’t about fast, it was about lasting. I let the world narrow down to the bag, to my fists, my feet, my legs, my arms, my body getting up close with the bag and hitting those short jabs, the knee work you needed to use if you had to fight your way clear of a grapple.

My pulse was in my throat, sweat running down my body, and it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough. I started fumbling at the pads on my legs.