Burning Up

grandfather was in the room with them, watching over the wife who, he’d often complained, had always made him wait.
    Going to be slow coming up to heaven, too, aren’t you, my darling?
    Words her grandfather had said on his deathbed, his hand wrapped around his wife’s. Miaoling had smiled and kissed him, teasing him to the last. Now, as Ria watched Miaoling ascend to the second floor of the shop, she felt her heart contract. “Grandmother?”
    “Yes?” Miaoling looked over her shoulder, her eyes warm, full of silent encouragement.
    “How long will you be?”
    “Perhaps three hours. We’re having lunch today as well.”
    “Then maybe I will go for a stroll.”
    Her grandmother smiled and continued on her way.
    Heading out of Mr. Wong’s, Ria found Emmett standing to her left, scanning the street. “Have you got someone who can stay here with my grandmother?” she asked.
    “She’s already inside,” Emmett said. “Mr. Wong’s planning to tell your grandmother she’s his new assistant.”
    “The beautiful brunette minding the shop?” Her eyes widened. “She doesn’t look dangerous enough to swat a fly.”
    “Not only can she swat flies, she can kill most men with a single blow.”
    Ria felt a sudden sense of inadequacy. “I wish I could do that.”
    “If you’re serious,” he said, looking her up and down in a way that was distinctly professional, “I can teach you enough self-defense that you won’t ever feel helpless again. You’re fit and you move well. You should pick it up quick.”
    Startled, she stared. “You’d do that?” A few tentative tendrils of hope wrapped around her heart—she’d begun to believe that Emmett was as suffocatingly protective as her father, but this argued differently.
    “How much time do we have now?”
    “Three hours.”
    He straightened away from the wall. “We can practice in a small basement gym members of the pack use when they can’t get out of the city for a good hard run. You’ll need workout gear.”
    Ria thought about it. “I’ll buy some. There’s a shop two blocks over.” That way, none of her family would even know about the training. Not that their objections would’ve stopped her—but she didn’t have time to have the argument.
     
    E mmett slid his hand along Ria’s arm, positioning her as she needed to be, and asked himself—for the hundredth time—why he was torturing himself like this. Even in the loose sweats and T-shirt she’d changed into, the woman who currently stood with her back to his chest set his body on fire. But the little mink didn’t seem inclined to play—she’d been all business since the moment they got to the gym. The leopard wasn’t pleased. Neither was the man. But no way was he going to push himself on Ria and make her uncomfortable. Not after what that bloody waste of space from the Crew had done to her.
    “There.” He released her. “Perfect. Now kick.”
    Ria brought up her leg in a forceful, fast kick. It wasn’t graceful or poetic. It was hard, rough, dirty. Emmett didn’t care about pretty. He cared about making sure she could protect herself. “I want you to practice for ten minutes while I go make a few calls.”
    Giving him a nod, Ria began to go through the beginner routine he’d devised. She was a fast learner, but as a human, her strength was much less than a changeling’s. Added to that, she was small and female—so the next time they worked out, he planned to teach her to fight using anything at her disposal, as she’d used her handbag two nights ago. That is, unless she had the option to turn and run. A physical fight would never be the smart first choice for her.
    Walking a short distance from where she moved that sweet little body with such focused determination, he brought out his phone and coded in a call to his alpha, Lucas. “Were you able to track the source of the hang-ups to Amber’s cell phone?” Ria had told him about the calls this morning.
    “Disposable.” Lucas’s anger was clear. “But we got another one of the bastards. He made the bad decision to try to shake down a couple while Clay was running patrol.”
    Emmett’s leopard smiled, its teeth razor sharp. “Is he dead?” Clay didn’t see the point in keeping vermin alive.
    “Clay thought we might want to question him, so he only broke a few ribs. Man’s refusing to talk, but I’ve had Clay prowling around him in leopard form—he’ll break when those teeth get too close.”
    “What’s