Chapter 83

The tough-looking female in front of him, with her unruly long hair and rocker style, was recognizable by this point. She still had her wicked grin and dark eyes. Anthony examined the mundane things with an artist's eye. She was tall and slim, with the body of a model or a swimmer. With the sword in his hands, her lanky arms simply seemed that much longer. Everything about her form, his long-arched back, and the loose-fitting white jacket that both covered and highlighted how powerful she was seemed to belong to a warrior.

Tattoo Girl then began to move. She reached out and yanked a blade from an enraged, red-faced boy's arm, sending him falling. The young man cursed and lashed at her.

"Oh. My. God." After that, even Sasha, who had never been mute, was unable to speak.

Celine launched herself down the strip in one continuous motion, uncoiling like a spring had set him off and tossed him across the room. She'd lowered her blade, and she wasn't going for a touch as much as she was looking for a kill.

That's what it appeared to be, predatory and beautiful, if such a creature existed. As if this was something that was intended to happen, and she herself was something that was meant to be—especially in this type of conflict. He's a fighter, no doubt about it.

Anthony took Sasha's hand in his. "I know I'm not insane." It wasn't even a question as he watched. Celine was now being held back from the fight by two hefty men, both of whom appeared to want to kick her out of the contest.

Sasha frowned as she moved her gaze from the image to the girl in front of her. "It's unbelievable. "Do you actually believe—?"

Anthony gave a nod. He couldn't say anything. They both returned her stare.

"Not fictitious." Anthony couldn't believe his eyes.

"Wow." Sasha's mouth was agape. "Certainly not fictitious."

"Right?" Anthony turned to face his pal. "Are you certain you see her as well?" Is she completely genuine?"

"Unquestionably true. Very genuine. And seriously, seriously—" Celine turned their way right then and there.

He was enraged, ashamed, and upset—but for the first time, both girls saw him clearly. And, to make matters worse, Anthony was almost positive he could see them.

She was also stunning.

Sasha crossed her arms as she gripped Anthony's arm. "Really."

"This can't be a coincidence," Anthony murmured, her gaze fixed.

"Is there anything else it might be?"

Anthony didn't know what to say, so he didn't. Finally, he averted his gaze. "I'll go over there." He inhaled deeply. "Do I really have to?"

His heart was pounding in his chest, like if it was trying to escape.

"Don't look now, but I believe you've been seen." Anthony's arm was squeezed by Sasha.

Anthony returned his gaze in his way. She must have noticed his stare. She was now standing in the middle of the conference hall, staring at him with her wildly black eyes and even crazier shag of hair. Anthony's rosy cheeks grew scarlet, and he realized he was barely breathing. She gave herself permission to gaze at him—really look at him.

Celine gave him an uneasy smile.

Let's get started. We're going to do it. This is what I'm doing. He forced himself to take a breath. He could sense her. He could feel her gaze on him and the weight of their attraction. He was well aware of what he was doing. He was sizing him up in the same way Anthony would when he waited for two fencers in class to finish a match, knowing he would fence the winner. Analyzing their strengths and shortcomings, as well as the patterns in their motion and rhythm. As Jack loved to say, there was a kind of observation that was an invitation to interact. That was it, and Anthony knew it. What it meant or why he was doing it was another matter.

He was completely unaware.

Does she have them as well? What about the dreams? Is she familiar with me? Anthony was perplexed. Chemically and physically. Like there was some magnet drawing them closer, which was, of course, how the dreams had always felt, at least to Anthony. Why else would he have thought her to be directly in front of him?

He wasn't sure what was going on, but the longer he stood in the same room with this female, the less he appeared to care.