The Black Tattoo by Sam Enthoven Read Free Book Online Page A

one end.   How on Earth ...?   Jack looked back down at Esme, but then the double doors opened and Raymond strode in.
    "Right," said the big man.   "Esme, Charlie — walk to the center of the room, turn, and face each other.   It's time to see what Wonder Boy here can do."
    Charlie blinked but did as he was told.   Esme followed.   Jack watched.
    The butterfly room was cool and dark after the heat of the day outside.   The sun through the great round window cast a long oval of creamy light across the hard matting of the floor.   The conference table had been shifted out of the way, propped against the wall at the far end; there was nothing in the center of the room but the big padded floor, the pool of light, and Charlie and Esme, standing in the shadows to either side of it, some three yards apart.   Charlie had taken off his button-down shirt so was now dressed in just his black T-shirt and jeans.   He was smiling.   Esme too was dressed lightly, in a fitted camouflage-green T-shirt and loose combat trousers, her hair tied back in a thick, tight bunch:   her face was expressionless.   Raymond stayed by the door, obviously keeping well back from whatever was about to happen, and Jack took his cue from him.   The whole scene was beginning to remind Jack of pretty much of every martial arts beat-'em-up game he'd ever played in his life.   This was not a happy realization for him.
    "Brotherhood members have different talents," said Raymond.   "Our first job, Charlie, is to find out where yours lie, so let's start you off with a little sparring match, Esme?"
    She turned.   Raymond smiled, making his beard bristle alarmingly.
    "Go easy on the lad to start with," he said.   "We wouldn't want to hurt him" — his smile widened — "much."
    Esme didn't smile back, just turned to face Charlie and dropped into a shallow crouch, one foot slightly ahead of the other.   Her honey-brown arms were held loosely at her sides.   Her hands were open, relaxed.   Charlie, still grinning, if a little dubious, did his best to follow her example.
    "Ready?" called Raymond.   "Fight."
    There was a blur, then—
    " GAHH! "
    It was Charlie who made this noise, as all the air exploded out of his body.
    Jack gaped.
    Charlie was now sitting on the floor, with his back against the wall, some ten yards behind where he'd been standing.   His legs were sticking out in front of him, and he was gasping like a stranded fish as he tried to get his breath back.   Esme's expression and demeanor had not changed in the slightest.   She looked exactly the same as she had a moment ago, only now she was standing in the middle of the room, where Charlie had been.
    Whatever had just happened had been so fast, Jack hadn't even seen it.
    "Get up, you big Jessie," said Raymond.   "She barely touched you."
    Blinking, then scowling as he realized he was being insulted, Charlie did as he was told — staring at Esme.
    "Walk back to the center," said Raymond.   "Esme, step back a little if you please.   All right, face each other again."
    He waited until Charlie and Esme were back in their original positions.   Charlie's panting breaths sounded loud in the silence.
    "Now," said Raymond.   "Did you notice something there, Charlie?"
    Charlie looked at Raymond.   "How d'you mean?" he managed.
    "That little side kick to the ribs," prompted Raymond.   "Did it get your attention?"
    Charlie scowled again.
    "Good, Charlie, Nick must have picked you for a reason.   As I believe I mentioned, we're here to see what you can do.   If you don't concentrate, you're wasting our time.   Plus, Esme'll clump you again.   It's as simple as that."
    There was a pause.   Charlie stared at Raymond, then turned and raised his eyebrows at Jack, who shrugged back, helplessly.
    "CONCENTRATE!" barked the big man, making them both jump.
    Charlie shrugged and turned to face Esme, who was still regarding him calmly.
    "Now, ready?" said Raymond.
    Jack leaned forward, willing