I didn't, but I was a little sick of being bossed around by supernatural boys with ego problems, so I satisfied myself by muttering a few choice curses on my way back.

The locker room was bright, empty, and clean, but like all locker rooms, it carried the ubiquitous scent of sweat and cleaning products. There were two pieces of black fabric on a bench. I picked them up.

Catcher had been serious about watching my muscles work. The "clothes" were barely scraps - an eight-inch band of spandex to cover my breasts and a pair of spandex shorts that would just reach the tops of my thighs. It looked like a beach volleyball uniform, although I think even Gabrielle Reese got more clothing than this.

"You have got to be kidding me," I muttered, but stripped and pulled on the workout gear. They fit well, at least the little skin they covered. I folded and piled my clothes, placed my shoes on top, then pulled my hair into a ponytail. A quick survey in the mirror above a slate of sinks revealed a lot of pale vampy skin, but the effect wasn't bad, actually. I'd always been lean, but my muscles seemed more defined now, vampire genetics doing more for my body than miles on the treadmill. I blew the bangs out of my face, wished myself luck, and walked back into the training room.

For my trouble, I got catcalls from Mallory and Jeff, who grinned at each other in delight. I rolled my eyes, but curtsied to both of them, then walked to where Catcher stood, arms folded across his chest, a glower on his face, in the middle of the mats.

"Push-ups," he said, pointing at the floor. "Start now."

As commanded, I went to the floor, extended my arms and legs, and started lifting my body. The move was nearly effortless; while I certainly couldn't do push-ups indefinitely, I had noticeably more upper body strength. I felt muscles clench and flex as I moved, and reveled in the sensation of blood flowing faster than before. I saw feet come into view, then circle me.

Catcher called Jeff's name, and the music changed - it became harder, louder, more rhythmic.

"The first step," Catcher said above me, "is evaluation. The vampire's powers are based in the physical - strength, speed, agility. The ability to jump higher, to move faster, than prey. Enhanced smell, sight, hearing - although those might require a little maturing before they kick in. And most important, the ability to heal wounds, to repair damage, which ensures that the body stays in top form." Thus, the unmarred skin on my neck.

As I steadily lifted and lowered my body, Catcher crouched before me, a finger under my chin pausing me, arms extended, in the middle of a push-up. He searched my eyes, but called Jeff's name. "Jeff?"

"She just finished push-up one hundred thirty-two."

Catcher nodded. "You're stronger than most." Hands on his knees, he rose again. "Sit- ups. Begin."

I swiveled my body into position, started a course of sit-ups. Those were followed by lunges, squats, and a set of yoga positions Catcher said were intended to test my flexibility and agility. They were all relatively easy, my body fitting into positions that - even years removed from serious dance-level fitness - should have been impossible. But I did King Dancer and Warrior poses, Wheel poses and Forearm Stands as effortlessly as if I'd been simply standing there. My muscles worked to maintain the positions, but the sensation was wonderful - like a full-body stretch after a long nap.

"So far, you're easily a Very Strong Phys," he commented.

I was in a headstand when he said it, and I lowered my feet to the floor and stood. "Meaning what?" I asked, straightening my ponytail.