Coiled Snake (The Windstorm Series Book 2) by Katie Robison Read Free Book Online

help me in a fight. Plus, it looks ridiculous.”
    Paika stands up, scowling. “You don’t respect the patu as a weapon.” It’s a statement, not a question.
    “If I had a gun, you’d be dead,” I say.
    “All right,” he growls. He whips a handgun out of a holster on his side and throws it at me. It lands in the sand at my feet. “Shoot me,” he says.
    “What?”
    He walks toward me and snatches the patu from my grasp. “Shoot me,” he says again. He retreats a few feet and tucks both patu into his belt, behind his back. “Pretend we’re enemies, and we’ve just seen each other. You’ll take out your gun; I’ll take out my useless clubs. Let’s see who wins.”
    “I’m not going to shoot you,” I say. “That would be—”
    “Defend yourself, girl,” he yells. “I’m going to see you in five seconds.”
    “Fine!” I retort, scooping up the gun and sticking it in my pants. I think about how he took me prisoner and brought me here, away from Rye, from the twins. I glare at the hideous tattoos framing his face and think about how much I hate him. If he wants me to shoot him, then that’s what I’m going to do.
    “Five,” Paika shouts, “four, three, two, one!”
    I pull out the gun and aim it at his chest. At the same time, he yanks on the leather thongs and simultaneously twirls both patu out to the side. Then he roars, and, muscles bulging, swings one paddle above his head, holds the other out in front of him, and charges. The ferocity of his face, the intensity of his scream, throws me off, and I stumble back a few paces. He barrels toward me. In a second, the club will bash in my head. I raise the firearm and squeeze the trigger.
    I’m not sure what happens next; it’s over so fast. All I see is the whirling patu heading for my face. In a second, Paika’s plowed me over, grabbed me by the hair, and shoved the sharp edge of one of the clubs into my neck.
    “Haiiii,” he booms. “Dead!”
    After snarling in my face for almost a minute, he finally releases me, and I get up slowly, shaking.
    “What do you think of the patu now, girl?” he asks.
    “Impressive,” I grunt. “What happened?”
    “You missed. Your aim was terrible.”
    “Well, you scared me.”
    “Exactly!” he crows. “Any bloke can shoot a gun—or try to shoot one. To be a true warrior, and defeat your enemy, you must discipline your mind and move with your spirit.”
    “You mean learn to scare people?”
    He shrugs. “That helps too. If it buys you time.”
    “So what if I hadn’t been scared? I would have shot you.”
    “You wouldn’t have.”
    “Well, what if I had?”
    He leans toward me. “If you had managed to shoot me, then you would be teaching me instead of the other way around.”
    “If I had shot you,” I counter, “you’d be dead.”
    He grins. “Don’t think so, love. I took precautions.” He ejects the clip from the gun. It’s empty.
    “You cheated!”
    “It’s called thinking ahead.”
    “It’s called cheating.”
    “If you had killed me, I wouldn’t be able to teach you how to be a warrior. So, I played it safe. Now, enough wasting time. Let’s get started.” He hands me a patu .
    I give in, and we spend the rest of the day going through basic sequences with the club. With almost every move, he makes me roll my eyes, stick out my tongue, and yell. “Like a Komodo dragon,” he says, less than helpfully.
    At first, I can’t do it, but then he tells me to think about something that makes me angry, to release that fury so I can connect to my spirit. I think about my parents, about the secrets they kept from me, and I roar. Soon, it starts to feel good, like I really am cleaning out my soul.
    By the time the sun sets, my arms are on fire, and my throat is raw.
    “We’ll stop here,” Paika says. “Tomorrow morning, I want you to get up early and run three miles before we begin again.”
    I nod slowly. Three miles used to be a laughable distance, but I haven’t run that far