Even with Splat

He pounced from the floor; she descended from on high. They tangled in the air, where she allowed him to grapple her because it would limit her advantage in speed and agility. Ryn had been lit and left burning for too long; she needed to stretch, to taste blood, and to destroy him in all arenas—even those where he had an edge.
Together they whirled and sank to the concrete in a flurry of shattering blows. They traded fists and knees; Ryn deflected Splat’s, and as they tore at one another, his blows pocked a trail of tiny craters in the concrete. He brute-forced Ryn into a steel girder. She snaked a leg around his knee, flexed him into the ground, and loosed a hurting volley into his ribs. He tore one arm loose, backhanded her, and she spat the blood into his eyes. Then she cracked her forehead down into his temple. He went limp.
But not for long. He lurched with new vigor. He grabbed a fistful of her kanaf and slammed her back into the pillar over and over until it dented. On the fifth slam, Ryn clung fast to the pillar. She pincered his throat with her legs and jerked him to the side, into a car hood so soundly that his face left an impression in the soft metal.
Splat took her knees in both hands, spun, and tossed her across the parking deck. Ryn let him. She reoriented in the air like a cat, landed gently on the face of a parked bus, and slid to the floor.
“Next time I get a hold of you I’m going to rape every part of you,” he snarled.
She laughed at him.
“What’s so funny? You think I’m going to tickle you? You think I’m playing games, you bitch? I’ll make you feel every inch.”
“You talk too much. Is that why you’re so bad at this?”
He lunged and she melted away. He let loose an onslaught of blows, each one slow. He hadn’t overpowered her in a grapple where Ryn’s mobility was limited, and on open ground he simply couldn’t touch her. She angled her body around one blow, rolled her shoulder to avoid a second. Each step he took, she countered, and each blow met vacant air. He backed her into a pillar, but she knew it was there. She ducked.
His fist powdered a chunk of concrete and Ryn stepped behind him. Four strands from her kanaf unfurled and tightened like a noose around Splat and the pillar. She cinched it with one pull, fastening him there.


Chapter 6, Page 78-79