Chapter Fourteen
I come to my senses and realize I’m not in my bed. This is the mat, and I was knocked out.
By a skinny nun.
I lie there long enough that if this were a boxing match, the referee would’ve easily counted to ten.
Did Nero lie about this woman’s lack of powers?
How could someone with so little muscle tissue knock me out so easily—especially with padded gloves? What’s even more mysterious is that I don’t feel like anything in my face is broken.
It doesn’t even hurt anymore—well, except for the deep wound to my pride.
I struggle to my feet.
She pantomimes a blocking movement.
“Neither Nero nor Bentley taught me how to block,” I say.
She rolls her eyes and shows me how to block in slow motion.
I mimic her, and she executes her strike again—much slower and with less imp
