Restart Again: Volume 1 by Adam Scott (motivational books for women TXT) 📗

“So, I was thinking...maybe you could help take care of me as well?” Melrose pushed me back against the headboard and hopped up quickly to straddle my waist. She reached behind her back to grab her dress, beginning to pull it up over her head.

There! Just for a moment, I spotted a garter belt on her upper left thigh. A sound I had been expecting finally reached my ears: a small click and the rush of metal against leather. Her dress had begun to fall back down, but I was already taking action. Before her dagger could appear from behind her back, I bucked my hips hard, launching her towards the headboard. I brought my elbow up, connecting hard with the bridge of her nose. Now unseated, her weight no longer pinned my legs, allowing me to ball them up and extend at full force into her chest.

Melrose spun backwards, bouncing off the bedpost and landing on the floor with a yelp. As she struggled to recover, I sprang from the bed and retrieved my scabbard, taking a defensive stance. She leapt up from the foot of the bed, her face now a mess of blood. The fire in her eyes I had noticed when we first met was still there, but it was changed now. A cold, ruthless flame stared me down from across the bed.

“You just had to put up a fight, didn’t you? You know how much it’ll cost to get my nose repaired?!” She spat out a glob of blood. “I guess it’ll be on your dime.” From behind her back, she produced my coin purse. “Sherman said you were loaded, and this certainly feels full enough for a nice vacation. Maybe a few vacations.” Gloating, she pulled the drawstring, opening the purse and glancing inside.

I couldn’t help but grin as her expression changed. Frantically, she upended the purse and shook it violently, but nothing came out. Melrose growled angrily. “What sort of trick is this? How are you doing this?!” I stared her down, saying nothing, but continuing to grin. She flourished her dagger, pointing the tip at me. “Nothing to say? I guess I’ll have to cut the information out of you, one little piece at a time.” She cackled. “Unless, I suppose, you think you can take me down without a weapon.”

“I figured you would say something like that.” I grimaced, feeling justified in taking counter action, but not looking forward to the results. For a brief moment I closed my eyes, looking inwards to begin the process of opening up my mana reserves. Feeling the surge of energy tingle down my spine, I held up my scabbard and withdrew my sword from the ether. The grip was cool and comfortable in my palm, and the familiar metallic ring put a determined calm over my mind. Gently, I tossed the scabbard back down onto the bed next to me, taking a more aggressive stance.

Melrose took a step back, her face a mix of shock and...was that fear? “How...how is that possible? Without incantation, without a catalyst? What sort of magic is that?” She was speaking frantically, clearly re-examining the choices that had led her to where she was at this moment. Her grip readjusted on her dagger repeatedly, her indecision clearly breaking through her overconfident demeanor. “Where did you learn that? Magic like that shouldn’t be possible without…”

Don’t give her time to recover! I tuned out her babbling, setting to work on combat preparations. Combat acceleration. The runes on the end of my sword burned with white light, sending a quick pulse down the blade and into my sword arm. I felt my mind quickening, and Melrose seemed to slow down. The nervous fidgeting of her blade, the backpedaling step she took in reaction to the flash, it was so sluggish and predictable. Windstep. A green flash came from the runes, and my limbs surged with pent up energy. Greater sharpening. Red light now, covering the edges of my sword in an angry crimson. Heighten senses. A blue glow, and the room sharpened into extreme focus.

With every evocation, the mana flowed faster through my body, the channels widening in response to my adrenaline levels. It had only taken a moment to prepare, and my body was burning with stored power. Melrose had begun to recover, seemingly done with her questioning. Her dagger thrust out awkwardly as she began an off-balance charge from the opposite side of the bed. I quickly analyzed my tactical options. The room is too small for full swings. She’s fighting with fear and instinct, not practice. I’m still curious about her motives in all this, so a non-lethal response...for now.

I took two strides forward, completely closing the distance between us. Her dagger was slow and clumsy, and I easily dodged the stab. Gripping my sword in both hands, I twisted sideways and dropped to one knee, using the extra acceleration in a crescent slash aimed at her dagger hand. If I hadn’t been watching, I would never have known the blade connected; it sliced through her wrist without resistance. My blade continued, traveling easily through the straw mattress and shattering the wooden bedframe below.

Melrose recoiled, screaming in pain as her hand separated from her arm and fell to the floor with a dull thud. Blood gushed from the stump at the end of her arm, which she tried in vain to staunch with her free hand. She fell backwards, writhing in agony as she screamed incoherently. Beyond Melrose, I heard more commotion. Through the door, I could hear patrons of the inn had started to fill the hallway and were now running away in fear from the screams. One set of footsteps was moving in the opposite direction, coming towards the room, a very telling gait in my ears. Casually, I reached down and pulled the dagger from the severed hand.

I stood facing the door at the ready, weighing the dagger