"This is crazy," she thought.  "How did I let anyone talk me into this?  I'm a freaking vampire.  I don't need to know martial arts!"  Except she kept seeing the ceiling from the prone position on the mat.  She gritted her teeth and concentrated on keeping her fangs in her face!  There were two other students and displaying would not be a good idea."

The gun shop was dim and cool, just as she remembered.  The smell was the same and the man behind the counter was the same.  "Hello," he said, clearly recognizing her.  "I see you are as fit and pretty as ever."

Since his kindness had probably saved her life, she was not inclined to take offense at his comment.  "Thank you!  And I really mean, 'thank you!'  I think you may have saved my life."

He pursed his lips and held up a hand.  "Say no more.  I'm glad I was of service.  The good thing about this job is, that every now and then, you really do get to make an honest difference.  A gun is a good last defense, but you need to be able to take care of yourself too. "

Eliza grinned.  "Oh, I can take care of myself."

"You know martial arts?" He asked.

Eliza shook her head and smiled.  "Only from what I've seen on TV."

He stepped from around the counter and handed her a rubber gun.  "I'm a bad guy about to . . .  Well, you use your imagination.  Shoot me."

She looked a the rubber gun in her hand and felt silly, but he was trying to be nice.  With blinding speed she raise the gun, pointed, and . . . realized her hand was empty.  She looked at her empty hand and she looked at him grinning.  "How did you do that?" she asked dumbfounded.

He grinned.  "You are very fast.  I'll admit that, but if someone knows what's coming and knows what to do, you can be in big trouble."  He put the rubber gun back behind the counter. Eliza thought about the hunters and how lucky she'd been.  He was right.  She did need to know how to defend herself.

"What do you suggest?" she asked.

"I'd suggest some professional training if you're getting into situations where you might need those types of skills."

She nodded.  "I think I do need that."

He smiled and handed her a business card.  "This guys a friend of mine.  Just mention 380 to him when you go in."  He laughed.  "I know.  It sounds corny but that's the way it's got to work, ok?"

He was dialing the phone before she was completely out of the shop door.

Eliza had laughed and agreed and now, here she was.  Two o'clock in the morning and she was getting stomped by some dude wearing pajamas. She looked up at large clock on the wall.  It was only another 15 minutes and then the introductory session would be over.  She sighed and regained her feet, feeling very clumsy and inept. She thought she could handle herself but she quickly found that strength alone was not enough when your strength was used against you.

The session was finally over.  The other two students, young men, headed for the mens dressing room and she turned towards the ladies area but heard her name called.  "Miss Radu, may I speak to you in my office, please?" the instructor politely asked.  He was clearly oriental but he had no discernable accent.

He would fail a Charlie Chan audition," she though humorously.  He was seated at his desk as she entered and stood politely and waved her to a chair and he resumed sitting.

He smiled.  "You have been recommended to me by a mutual friend.  Tonight, there are three students who wish to be trained with my art.  My regular classes keep me very busy.  My night school is special."  He stared at her, seeming to see her soul.  "You are special.  I will train you if you will be honest with me."    Eliza felt a strange reaction occur within her.  The man facing her was only slightly larger than she and of an age she could not begin to guess.

"Ah, um . . . ." she stammered.  "What do you mean honest?  I have told you no lies."  She felt herself flushing and knew it was so very obvious on her pale complexion.  That was one thing she really hated about the changes that had occurred.  She had to learn to lie without blushing!  She could see a faint smile on his face.

"I did not say you have lied.  I say you must be truthful.  I need to know what you can do if I am to train you.  If I am to be your sensei, you must be the good student."  Eliza realized she was chewing her lip again and realized he was aware of it.  "You should know a sensei does not betray his student."

She nodded, deciding to trust him.  "Yes, sir.  I think I can do that."

"Yes, Sensei," he corrected.  "Good," he said standing.  "We will have our first lesson. He rose and walked back into the empty dojo.  He waved his hand and the light dimmed to dusk like condition.  "I think we will both be more comfortable," he observed, bowing politely to her as she stepped on the mat.  She reflexively bowed back.  "I am not going to teach you a traditional art.  I am going to teach you how to fight to stay alive and how to kill to accomplish that goal.  You will learn what to hit, where to hit, how to hit and how to avoid mistakes you have already made."  He seemed to flicker and she realized that he was in back of her.  "You did not know where I was.  I will teach you your first lesson: being aware of your opponent.  Close your eyes."

Eliza closed her eyes and felt him place a finger on each temple.  They stood silently for some time and then Eliza felt a hard smack to her left cheek and another to her right cheek.  She dropped and spun.  She sensed attack from - there!  She spun again, feeling her fangs fully extending and talons forming where fingernails had been.  Sensei bowed and smiled.  "You will now know where your enemy stands.  That sense is now awakened to you."

Eliza shivered with some eerie chill running up her back.  She felt, somehow, more alive; somehow, more alert.  He smiled calmly at her as she concentrated on calming herself and resuming a more human appearance.  She had never changed so quickly or completely before.  The intensity of it has been surprising and frightening.  She wondered what he had done to her.  Even more, she wondered how much he knew and understood.  One thing was sure.  He sure as hell knew she wasn't fully a normal human.  What he'd seen would have sent most people running for their lives.  Instead, he was smiling, bowing and explaining things to her.  "And I thought I was strange," she mused.

"Sunday, midnight.  You come for your next lesson, ok?"  He smiled. "I do not teach for free.  You will bring one thousand dollars.  I will not ask for more money and you may study as long as you wish."  He grinned.  "You will learn to stay alive very quickly.  I will make a lot of money for a short bit of work and you will stay alive."  He chuckled.  "It's good for both of us."

Standing on the street, outside of the dojo, Eliza was considering the night's events.  She was also considering the necessity of getting a thousand dollars in two days.  Lost in thought, she headed slowly for home.

Thomas Wu sat at his desk and poured a tall scotch.  He picked it up, inhaled the aroma and tossed it.  "Ah . . . . " he shuddered.  He poured a second one.  "What a hell of a way to make a living," he muttered.  "What a hell of a way . . . ."

She was walking, lost in thought.  She didn't want to hit her bank account for a thousand dollars.  Grinning, she realized that thanks to Vicki, there was actually more than a thousand in it, but she'd like to keep it that way.  Two days to come up with a thousand.  She wondered if Vicki could loan it to her.  She could pay it back by doubling with her.  Men really seemed to like that and it was safer that way too.  She froze, every sense alert.  She flickered to her left, almost into the street, avoiding the blow from the side, out of the alley she had not notice in her state of concentration.

She felt a thrill of terror rush through her.  "Hunters!" was her thought.  But, no.  There was only him and all he was threatening her with was a knife.

"Make it easy," he growled.  "Just hand me the purse and you don't get hurt."  She raised one eyebrow and reached for her purse.  With a move so quick, he never realized what was happening, she reached into her purse and drew the .380.  Pointing it right between his eyes, so he could look into the cavern through which his life would end.

"I think not," she said in a low husky voice.  "Drop the knife!"  His eyes widened and he grinned.

"I've got the guts to cut you.  You have the guts to shoot?" he sneered.  The sharp authoritative bark of the .380 sounded and he crumpled to the ground with his right leg shattered.  The fulminate of mercury loaded hollow points she used had, for all practical purposes, severed his leg at the knee.  He was curled into a fetal ball trying to stop the bleeding He didn't even seem to notice when Eliza went through his pockets, finding loose money, some jewelry and his wallet.

Displaying her fangs, she bent and put her face to his.  "Bleed to death you bastard!" she hissed She straightened and looked at her spoils.  "School money," she said grinning.

Eliza handed Sensei one thousand dollars as a hand full of bills.  She felt silly but she'd actually ironed them, trying to make the hodge-podge tangle of bills look respectable.  It had helped - a little. She was sure the Sensei was smiling but since his lips hadn't moved she couldn't really be sure.  But she knew he was chuckling at her inside. She just knew it.  He placed the money on his desk and put a decorative marble paper weight on top of it. He left the office, bowed at the mat and stepped on.  Eliza followed him.

"Tonight we study strikes and blocks.  You will not strike me.  You will not touch me unless instructed to do so and then only exactly as instructed to do so.  Do you understand and agree?"  Eliza nodded.  "Please tell me aloud."

"Yes, I understand and agree."

"You should call me Sensei," he added with a disapproving look.

"Yes, I understand and agree, Sensei," Eliza parroted.

"Thank you, Miss Radu," he said bowing.  "I will strike you and I will touch you as needed for instruction.  Do you understand and agree?"

"Yes, Sensei," she replied bowing.

"To show you techniques in a way that you can appreciate them and to demonstrate error, I will hurt you when necessary.  Do you understand and agree?"

Eliza hesitated but then realized that with her constitution, he couldn't do too much damage to her with only his hands.  "Yes, Sensei.  I understand and agree."  She bowed. He bowed.

They started with simple hand strikes and blocks.  He first showed her a simple throat strike using an open hand and a simple block for it.  "I will strike slowly; you block as I have shown you."  Eliza nodded.  "You should reply, 'Yes, Sensei.'"

"Yes, Sensei."  She replied.  He slowly did as he said and she blocked as required.  After several such moves he asked if she was ready for full speed, to which she quickly said, "Yes!"  This slow motion stuff was getting boring.  He threw a punch with moderate speed and Eliza blocked the blow in a bored fashion.  She grimaced with boredom.  "I'm paying a grand for this," she wondered.  She felt a blinding pain under her throat and realized the her feet were no longer on the floor and then she landed on the mat with a bone crunching thud.  Her constricted throat could not pass air and her diaphragm was shocked from the back blow.  It was impossible to inhale.  She felt panic rise but she was too weak to stand.  She gasped, choking, curled into a little ball, felt the blazing pain of suffocation and passed out.  She gasped and choked, returning to consciousness.  She hadn't a clue to how much time had passed.

"Your block has good form but you must be more alert to the blow.  Let's try again.  I punch.  You block."  Eliza shakily got to her feet.  That had hurt!  So much for the theory that he couldn't hurt her.  He might not be able to kill her . . . . Then again, she quickly decided not to test that theory.  Having one theory disproved a night was her quota, she decided.

She wisely replied, "Yes, Sensei."

"Damn!" the instructor thought.  "That blow would have taken out a man twice her size and she bounces up and is polite.  If I piss her off, my ass is grass!"

He threw the blow again, this time aiming it so it would stop within one eighth of an inch from her throat, but she executed the block perfectly.  He felt the iron hard shock of her hand on his forearm.  Only years of training and conditioning allowed him to keep his balance.  He knew he'd be bruised.  "Very good, Miss Radu.   That was executed perfectly."

"Thank you, Sensei," she replied politely.

They practiced a few more moves but with a lot less detail.  Sensei explained that she'd learned a lot mastering the one move to perfection.  That basic technique could be applied to all of the moves they'd been practicing this evening.  That was why he'd chosen the move they had started with.  If you learn to protect your throat, other vital points are central from there and a minor shift can cover many vital areas.

"Next time we will practice more strikes.  You may return Wednesday at 2 am, is that satisfactory to you?"

Eliza bowed and smiled.  "Yes, Sensei," she replied.

After she left, he wiped his forehead.  And flopped in his office chair.  "There has got to be an easier way to make a living," he thought.  "There as got to be!"

Eliza breathed the delicious night air.  "This is fun.  I wonder if he'd teach Vicki."  She laughed.  "I wonder if Vicki would have an interest?"  She shook her head.  "Nah, I can't see Vicki in a dojo.  That is one lady that is such a good lover that I can't see her being a good fighter."  She sighed.  "Oh well.  We all have our talents.  I guess mine is eating people."  She walked towards her apartment chuckling to herself at her own humor.