Come on, Hathaway," he said, taking my arm. "You can be my partner. Let’s see what you’ve been doing all this time."<br />An hour later, he had his answer.<br />"Not practicing, huh?"<br />"Ow,” I groaned, momentarily incapable of normal speech.<br />He extended a hand and helped me up from the mat he’d knocked me down on—about fifty times.<br />"I hate you,” I told him, rubbing a spot on my thigh that was going to have a wicked bruise tomorrow.<br />"You’d hate me more if I held back."<br />"Yeah, that’s true," I agreed, staggering along as the class put the equipment back.<br />"You actually did okay."<br />"What? I just had my ass handed to me."<br />"Well, of course you did. It’s been two years. But hey, you’re still walking. That’s something." He grinned mockingly.<br />"Did I mention I hate you?”<br />He flashed me another smile, which quickly faded to something more serious. "Don’t take this the wrong way…I mean, you really are a scrapper, but there’s no way you’ll be able to take your trials in the spring—"<br />"They’re making me take extra practice sessions," I explained. Not that it mattered. I planned on getting Lissa and me out of here before those practices really became an issue.<br />"Extra sessions with who?"<br />"That tall guy. Dimitri."<br />Mason stopped walking and stared at me. "You’re putting in extra time with Belikov?"<br />"Yeah, so what?"<br />"So the man is a god."<br />"Exaggerate much?" I asked.<br />"No, I’m serious. I mean, he’s all quiet and antisocial usually but when he fights...wow. If you think you’re hurting now, you’re going to be dead when he’s done with you."<br />Great. Something else to improve my day.