One fall down.

Hmm. Dar watched him dust himself off and face her, seeing something in his eyes that sent a shot of adrenaline right through her.

Now, intimidation…that she recognized and her aggressive instincts flared as she swept in again, this time with more assurance, letting the watching crowd fade out as she dropped him a second time.

The whistle blew a minute later and she stepped back, clearing the mat for the next match, feeling a little surprised and a lot less nauseous.

She snuck a look at Kerry and found a grin waiting for her, along with a little wink.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all.

“She did okay, right?” Kerry whispered.

“Damn straight.” Andrew had his chin almost resting on the step her Eye of the Storm 53

feet were on. “Knocked that silly assed punk right on his keester. That’s my girl.”

Kerry muffled a chuckle. “You are so cute.”

One blue eye edged around the corner of his hood and pierced her.

“’Scuse me there, young lady. Watch yer mouth.” He growled. “I am not having no little kumquats calling me stuff like that.”

“Ah. I see where she gets that, too.” Kerry grinned and turned her attention back to her lover, who was getting a drink of water from the blue neoprene thermos she habitually carried.

Dar’s eyes were a little brighter now, she noticed, and she seemed looser and more relaxed. She was talking with Ken, who had finished his own bout just prior to hers, and watched the action.

Kerry wondered if she realized just how many people were actually watching her, instead of the matches. She kinda hoped she didn’t. At least until it was over.

“Who you got next?” Ken craned his neck to peer at the small piece of paper Dar had. “Oh. Nice slate.” He nodded. “They’re all pretty decent fighters. I got lucky with mine. The first three of ’em are strictly hacks.”

“Mmm.” Dar tucked the paper away and took another sip of water.

She watched the match in progress, and replayed her last one with a sense of mild satisfaction.

Her next match was an easy one, then the third was a little harder, her opponent a tough, determined woman with a permanent scowl and a feisty attitude that almost made Dar want to offer her a job. The woman used her smaller size to get inside Dar’s defenses, but found out, a little too late, that it was a mistake to get caught by the taller woman’s powerful grip.

Dar wiped the back of her neck with her towel, clearing the sweat a little, and glanced at the board, where a perky scorekeeper was moving names around. Hers was in one of the upper tiers, and she felt a sense of satisfaction at her accomplishment so far. Six matches and she’d won half. That was not too goddamned bad for someone who’d been out of competition for as long as she had and Dar knew she had every right to be completely happy if she lost every single one of her remaining three matches.

Her name was called for her fourth match. She put her thermos down and flexed her fingers as she re-entered the circle sketched on the mats. This time, her opponent was an older man, with the hard eyes and callused hands of an instructor, and her pulse picked up as her now warmed up body scented a challenge.

He eyed her coolly, intent on intimidating, and received a dazzling smile in return, which made him blink in surprise just before he was caught in a combination move that knocked him backwards almost onto his butt.

“Son of a bitch,” he blurted.

Dar patted her chest. “Nope. Wrong gender and don’t you be calling my daddy names like that.” She roundhouse kicked him and sent him fly-54 Melissa Good ing out side the circle with a thud as he hit the mat. He got back up and they circled each other, trading feints and jabs.

Weeks of pushing herself and weeks of sharpening rusting skills now came to bear as Dar loosened up and tried some more advanced moves, which she hadn’t bothered with in her earlier matches. Her opponent countered one, then backed off a little, apparently realizing the skill level facing him was higher than he’d expected. He tried a counter, and Dar absolutely nailed him with a block and a throw over her shoulder that made his bones audibly rattle.

The whistle blew and she stepped back, noticing the crowd slowly gathering around the mat, as the other bouts ended. Her name moved up a tier, and with a sense of shock, she realized she was positioned to come in no worse than fourth in the competition.

That was great, wasn’t it? Dar was now aware of the growing crowd, most of them watching the match that just started, between a tall, aggressive redhead and a smaller, blonde haired man whose quick style and fluid motion Dar admired. She concentrated on it and was surprised when a voice invaded her close presence, calling her name. She turned.

“Yes?”

It was the match coordinator, in all her pink glory. “I’m sorry…you’re Roberts?”

“Yeah. What’s wrong?” Dar turned and faced the blonde woman.

“Did I step outside the circle or something?”

“Oh. No, no.” Pinky shook her head. “No. The guy you were supposed to fight next just sprained his ankle.” She made a mark on the sheet. “He forfeited, so you got that one. So you’ve only got the one match left.” She looked up. “Whoever wins this one. So don’t wander off.”

“Sure.” Dar gave her a look. “I was going to see if there were any good nature trails around, but I guess I’ll hold off.”

Pinky looked up at her. “Hah hah.” She turned and left, as Dar merely shook her head.

“What’s up?” Ken came over, having finished his day. “Hey. Third.

Not too damn bad.” He slapped Dar on the back. “John over there knocked me on my butt in the fourth round. So I guess it’s between you and him. He’s gonna beat Rusty.”

Dar almost snorted her water as the words penetrated. “What?”

Ken stared at her. “You didn’t realize? The guy who just conked out was in second place. Whichever one of you wins the next one, gets the trophy.” He almost laughed at Dar’s expression. “C’mon Dar. Don’t look like you’ve been hit by a flying fish, okay? You’ve been kicking everyone’s ass all day long. You’re the talk of the match.”

“THAT LAST ONE thar’s trouble,” Andrew commented, sucking on a straw poking out of his soda pop.

“Yeah?” Kerry had found herself getting excited, as the energy in the Eye of the Storm 55

room rose, and everyone gathered around the ring for what was turning out to be the bout to decide the winner. “Well, Dar’s doing pretty good anyway, right?”

“Sure. Sure. Worst she’ll be is second. But see…I know my kid.”

Andrew rested his forearm on the bench. “She don’t like being anything but first.”

“Wonder where she got that from?” Kerry smiled, but knew he was telling the truth. “Do you think she can beat that guy?”

“Depends.”

“On?” Kerry rested her elbows on her knees, her back aching from the long afternoon sitting on the hard benches.

“How bad she wants to.”

Kerry drummed her fingers on the bench for a moment, then stood up, wincing a little before she carefully stepped down the mini bleachers and made her way through the milling crowd of sweaty, cotton clad people to Dar.

Her lover turned as she came up and gave her a smile, stepped back from the clump of people and ducked her head a little against the noise.

“Hey there.”

“Hi.” Kerry glanced at the board, then gave her a little pat on the back, a grin taking over her face.

Dar cleared her throat and shrugged, then laughed sheepishly. “Not too bad, huh? I didn’t expect that.”

“I did.” Kerry sniffed, blinking innocently as she peered around. The last bout was over, and the tall redhead, the winner, was resting before the final match started. “Your father’s been giving me pointers.”

“On the fighting?”

Green eyes slid up her body and twinkled. “That too.” She leaned closer. “You know something? He’s really proud of you.” Dar merely shrugged in response, but a coral blush colored her skin. “So am I, by the way. Maybe we could all go out afterward and celebrate, huh?”

Dar looked thoughtful for a moment. “Maybe…it depends.”

“On what?” Kerry asked, just before they called Dar’s name to come back up to the mat.

“What it is we’re celebrating.” A faint smile played around Dar’s lips. “And right now, that guy’s between me and sharing a sundae with my dad.” Her head angled a little as she eased through the crowd, giving her a slightly more predatory look.

“He’s toast.” Kerry put her hands behind her back and rocked on her heels. “I’ll get the marmalade.”

THE BOUT WAS mostly a blur. Dar stood on the edge of the mat after the bell rang and sucked air into her lungs, trying to catch her breath. She clearly remembered going into the match, but now that it was over, the details were fading rapidly.

Her body was covered in sweat, though, and she was feeling the 56 Melissa Good beginnings of bruises that were going to make waking up the next morning a little less than comfortable. She was hot and sticky and wanted little more than a cold shower and a nice, large, dripping, oozing with caramel and chocolate with maybe, maybe a cherry on top sundae.

After all, she deserved it.

She’d won the goddamned meet and this last match had been a toughie, since John, the tall redhead, was the local I-am-the-great-American-hope-pseudo-sensei that every decent sized martial arts community seemed to spawn like unwanted weasels, who terrorized the lighter belts and had more testosterone than sense.

Well. Dar caught a movement out of the corner of her eye and turned, to see the organizer heading towards her with a completely obnoxious looking trophy that she realized she was going to have to accept and carry home.

“I think you should keep it on your desk.” Kerry slipped in next to her and gave her a slap on the butt. “Dar, you rock.”

“Ohhh. No, no, no, no. I think you should keep it on your desk,” her boss corrected. “Since you wanted one.”

“Hey. Congratulations.” The match organizer reached out a hand.

“Haven’t seen you around before. But I hope I will again. You really stirred up some excitement around here.” He was maybe in his mid twenties, had cute freckles, and almost orange hair, and sported a slim, muscular body. “I’m Shaun Ryan, by the way.”

Dar returned the handshake. “Thanks. It was um…fun.” She accepted the trophy with her other hand. “I used to compete around ten years back, I was just sort of getting back into it.”

His eyes opened wider. “Yeah? Wow. Well, you’re hot, let me tell you. It was a pleasure watching. You do sports for a living, or…”

He sidled a step closer and Dar realized she was being flirted with.

“No. I’m in the computer business.”

“Who isn’t?” Richie laughed. “Hey, listen. You got any plans? A bunch of us,” he gestured towards a group of the competitors, regular cronies apparently, “are going over to Chevys. You interested?”

“No thanks.” Dar gave him a brief smile. “I’ve got a date. But thanks for asking.”

“No problem. No problem.” Richie held up both hands. “Maybe next time…and hey, congratulations again, okay?”

Dar watched him rejoin the group, and by the regretful shrugs and glances in her direction, gathered she was the topic of conversation. The man she’d beaten wasn’t part of the group, she noticed then, as he walked off with four or five of the others, apparently their own little clique.

“A date?” Kerry elbowed her. “He liked you.”

Dar gave her a look. “Here.” She thrust the huge trophy at her lover.

“I believe this is yours…and stop looking at me like that.”

Kerry snickered. “Like what? I don’t know what you’re talking about, Dar.” She gave the black belt tied around the taller woman a tug.

“Yeah, yeah.” Dar sighed. “All right. Let me go shower and I’ll be Eye of the Storm 57

right out. You owe me ice cream, if I recall.” Her eyes went to the stands, finding an inconspicuously hidden figure in one dark corner. “Did you ask…”

“He already said yes,” Kerry murmured. “Go on. We’ll wait for you over there.”

Dar nodded and headed into the locker room, which was mostly empty. One or two women were just finishing up their changing, and the nearest looked up and gave Dar a little wave as she came in.

“Hey. Great job.” The blonde woman smiled, offering a hand as Dar passed. “I’m Sheila. And you’re Dar, is it?”