I cleared the weight off the rack, took in my breath, and started lowering the bar down. My body had a moment of going You’re joking, right? when my elbows bent and the bar touched my chest, not resting on it, but just touching it. My arms trembled as I started pushing upward. The elbow on the side that had the most scars hesitated a second, and then I was pushing up, using my breath to help push the weight up, as if I could blow it away from me. I could feel the muscles bunch and move in a way that no other exercise made them do, or maybe weights made me more aware of it. I loved the feel of my body fighting to lift it, and then I was up, all the way up. I’d done it! The thrill of adrenaline, the relief, and then the thought Can I do it again? I fought my arms to make sure the weight went down steady and controlled. I touched my chest, this time a little more solidly, and there was that moment when the weight didn’t want to be lifted. I pushed and the elbow on my left arm hesitated again like the joint was thinking about it, and then the muscles kicked in and the bar started to rise. I fought not to arch my back and cheat with more of my body than I was supposed to use. There was a little more tremble in my arms as I got the bar all the way back up. I debated on trying for a third rep, but the fine tremble in my muscles said no. All I had to do now was put it back in the rack. My arms were trembling visibly now. Claudia started to put her hands on the bar, but I snarled, “No, don’t touch it!”
She moved her hands wide so the room could see she wasn’t helping.
I couldn’t seem to sink it on the rack—it was like trying to thread a needle that weighed a ton when your arms were starting to do the spaghetti wobble. I thought I was going to lose it for just a second and really regretted not letting Claudia help me, but then the bar sank home on the rack with a satisfyingly soft clank. I was breathing hard but grinning up at her as she grinned down at me. She offered me a fist to bump. It took me two tries to manage with my arms a little wobbly. “Personal best for you,” she said.
“Two reps, that’s all she can do at that weight, and she’s supposed to be our queen,” a male voice whined from across the room. It was Kane, one of my least favorite people. Perfect.
“Come over here and prove you can do better,” Claudia said.
I sat up, careful not to bang my head on the now safely racked weight bar, and if you think that doesn’t happen, you haven’t been in enough weight rooms. I sat on the bench with my arms still shaky. We’d already done a full round of weights before we started with the pyramid sets, so I’d earned the sweat along my spine and the noodle arms. I sat there letting my pulse and breathing get under control. The fact that I was breathing as if I’d done cardio meant I’d really pushed myself for that personal best on the chest press. Yay, me! Staring across the room at Kane, I didn’t feel personally victorious, I felt defeated. Kane was a problem that I didn’t know how to fix, and he was right, technically I was about to be everyone’s queen, and Kane wasn’t the only one who thought I wasn’t up to the job. He was just the only one who was this vocal about it. I’d kicked his ass twice, once with magic and once without. I’d put a gun to his head that last time because there was only so much I could do against shapeshifters that could grow their own claws and fangs. I was almost as fast and strong as they were, but I couldn’t grow my own weapons.
The other man with him said, “Kane, we’re here to work out, just leave it.”
“She’s too human to be in charge of all of us, you said so yourself, Helios.”
Helios gave me a look that was almost pleading. “I didn’t say it to her face, though. I’m sorry, Ms. Blake, and I’m really sorry, Claudia.”
“Why are you sorrier to me than to Anita?” she asked.
“She may be queen someday, but you’ll beat my ass in combatives.” The moment he called fight practice combatives, I knew he was one of the former military that we’d been hiring as guards. Popping hot for lycanthropy—sorry, Therianthropy—was still an automatic discharge from all branches of military service, which meant we’d been picking up some well-trained talent courtesy of Uncle Sam’s shortsighted policies.
“I think Anita could win on the mat,” Claudia said.
Helios, who was blond and six feet tall, in obvious good shape, grinned. “I didn’t say she couldn’t win on points, but she can’t pound me into the mat, and you can.”
“Anita can’t win unless she sucker punches you first,” Kane said as he strutted his way through the full set of free weights with a few machines and big metal frames of the squat rack. He was six feet even just like Helios, but where the former teams guy was starting to let his blond hair grow out, Kane still had his hair shaved down to dark stubble with that high widow’s peak at the front so that the skin went back from it sharply, which always made me want to ask if he’d started shaving because he was going bald, or if it was just a fashion choice. I knew it wasn’t a military buzz, because Kane had never worn a uniform, he didn’t have the discipline for it.
“Kane, we’re here to work on your form in the weight room, not make trouble,” Helios called after him.
Kane blinked big, dark brown eyes at me, because he was close enough for that kind of detail. “It’s not going to be any trouble,” he answered the other man, but his attention was all on me. The lack of hair left his face unadorned so you could see he had good bone structure and was handsome, almost prettily so; the body that showed around the tank top, exercise shorts, and jogging shoes wasn’t bad, but it was more a body that was lean because he was built that way than lean because he worked out and watched his nutrition.
Claudia handed me my towel, and I used it to wipe down the weight bench. She started taking the weight off the bar.
“I thought I was going to do reps with that,” Kane said.
“It’s three times Anita’s body weight. She did two reps with it after a full workout with me in the weight room, and then starting back with pyramid sets. You can either do a full workout with weights of my choice for you, or you can just jump right to doing chest press with three times your body weight.” She gave that smile that was more a snarl again. Claudia didn’t like Kane, because he was supposed to be one of the guards and she didn’t think he was good enough. I agreed, but Kane and I were feuding over a man, sort of. It’s always hard to be the ex-girlfriend when the new boyfriend is a jealous bitch.
I picked up my water bottle and started trying to rehydrate.
“That’s not fair,” Kane said, and that handsome face scrunched down into the sour lines that were usually how he looked, at least around me. It stole all his pouty good looks and showed him for what he was—unpleasant.
Claudia stopped taking weights off the bar long enough to give him a look. “Not fair, really?” There was a dangerous undertone in her voice. I don’t mean dangerous as in violence, but in the you’ve-just-mouthed-off-to-your-coach/martial-arts-instructor/drill-sergeant/dad way.