“Well, rest assured a bullet wound will not be enough to kill me,” Kiran replied confidently and then grabbed my waist, moving me in front of the gun case. “They won’t bite, go ahead and pick one.”
“I have no idea how to do that! Just pick one for me, please,” I finished politely.
“Handgun or rifle?” he asked again, studying his collection.
“Rifle,” I answered weakly. “Go big or go home, right?”
“I think that’s strictly an American saying….” Kiran mumbled, still entertained with me and pulled a long, dangerous-looking, sleek gun from the case. He gathered the appropriate ammunition and then set off around the wraparound porch toward the back of the property.
I followed after him, pausing at the top of the stairs to admire the backyard. The mountainside had been cleared to provide a long, rough open space that ended at the edge of a cliff. The view was spectacular, overlooking the Carpathian Mountains that still held the lush, verdant greens of late summer. Even at the beginning of September, Romania still kept the warmth of August and the sun shone through holes in the treed canopy spotlighting the forest floor in perfect circles.
A tree, seventy five yards across the open clearing, stood as my target and Kiran waited patiently at the bottom of the stairs. I walked slowly toward him, very nervous to hold the gun in my hands.
“I’ll give you one more chance to change your mind,” I offered generously.
“That is not going to happen,” he laughed and held the gun out to me.
I took it carefully, awkwardly in my hands and felt the buzz of power in the gun. It wasn’t a magical weapon and the power I felt was more symbolic than real, but I was holding something that could kill, that could take a life, and there was power in that, a power that demanded cautious respect.
I ran my fingers over the cold black metal and then lifted it uncomfortably to my shoulder. I held it like I thought it should be held, using my expert movie knowledge and kept my finger out of the trigger hole on purpose. I glanced back at Kiran and shrugged my shoulder, hoping he would step in and offer some advice.
“Do you see your target?” he asked, walking up behind me and wrapping his arms around my shoulder to adjust my position.
“Yes,” I cleared my throat, ignoring the stuttering of my heart with him so close.
“Look through here,” he ran his finger along the scope and it took me a minute for my eyes to adjust to the narrow view point. “Use your magic, feel the gun, feel your target,” he murmured in my ear gently.
I took his advice, leaning my head forward away from his breath that tickled the back of my neck. I let the magic run through me, feeling hyperaware of everything. The gun felt more natural in my hands, the target seemed an easy distance.
As always with magic aiding my senses I could feel everything in the backyard, everything in nature. I could feel the rays of sun that streamed through the trees, the particles of dust that floated carelessly through them; I could feel the soft breeze and the forest floor with millions of insects crawling around. I felt the target yards away, waiting patiently for my bullet and I felt Kiran’s arms around me, and then his hand as he splayed his fingers across my abdomen.
“Your strength comes from here,” he pressed his hand against my stomach, drawing his body close to mine. “Keep this firm.”
“Ah, I get it now,” I mused wisely, “I get why you want to teach me to shoot.” I wiggled a little with my body pressed so firmly against his.
“Do you?” Kiran responded, highly entertained. “Just focus on the gun and stop being a smartass.” He laughed in my ear, but moved his hand from my stomach to my shoulder. “Press the gun hard against here,” He demonstrated, pulling the gun into a firm hold against my shoulder. “It’s going to recoil; you’ll thank me in a minute.”
I obeyed, while he clicked the safety off and stepped away from me. “Now I just pull the trigger?” I felt my resolve weaken.
“Yes, pull the trigger.” He instructed.
I cleared my throat and then shifted uncomfortably on my feet. I reminded myself that I was an Immortal, and that even if I accidentally hurt some poor, innocent animal I had the power to heal a gunshot wound. I nestled the butt of the gun up to my shoulder again, found my target through the scope once more and pulled the trigger before I could think about it for one more second.
I lost sight of the bullet immediately as the kickback of the gun slammed painfully into my shoulder. I dropped the rifle as if it chose to physically assault me and let out a stream of curse words against my hurt shoulder, magic could not move fast enough to heal.
“And all this time, I thought you were a lady,” Kiran clucked his tongue at me, clearly amused by my behavior.
“Ha! Some gentleman you are!” I accused, whirling around to face him. “You could have warned me! Or I don’t know, spared me altogether!”
“Yes, you’re right,” Kiran mumbled, still entertained by me, “I could have.”
“That was payback, wasn’t it?” I narrowed my eyes at him.
“For your little mind stunt yesterday?” Kiran asked incredulously. “You give me far too much credit. May I remind you, you picked the rifle? How did you phrase it? Go big or go home….” He walked over to me, pulling something from behind his back.
“I was manipulated,” I spat, recognizing the object from behind his back as a handgun.
“Of course you were,” he mumbled ungraciously. “But you didn’t do so badly,” he nodded in the direction of the target.
I could see the bullet hole from here, perfectly on center, just a few inches from a bulls eye. My fury turned to pride as I stalked through the uneven forest floor to take a closer look. For my first shot ever I hadn’t done so badly. Something inside told me if I relied on my Immortal powers more fully I would have hit the target dead center without really trying. But with my human handicap I still beamed in accomplishment.
“Well done,” Kiran stood next to me, admiring my aim. “But we didn’t come out here to shoot the big guns, so let’s stop messing around.” The way his voice turned from mild awe to poorly disguised scolding twisted my patience and I bristled in response.
“Then what did we come out here to do?” I seethed, through gritted teeth with arms folded.
“My father decided, very shortly after you were kidnapped, that Terletov’s guns were ingenious. Those guns became part of the Titan wardrobe shortly after my father came to power, but they have never used them. Lucan has always preferred the sword, as it seems more…. civilized. Besides the guns don’t kill, they just paralyze. So, after Terletov’s successful efforts at attempting to kidnap you, my father has sent all of his Titans back to training with the guns. This is both good news and bad news for us. Because the Titans have an alternative method other than the sword, not every use of a weapon will result in death. However, the bad news is, the Titans won’t have to hesitate in any circumstance now, because their actions will not always be fatal,” Kiran explained quickly.
“Why did it take your father so long to catch on?” I asked pointedly, hoping to insult Kiran even though I knew his opinion of his father wasn’t much.
“Eden, I think it’s you that’s taking so long to catch on,” he sighed, and I slapped his arm. The playfulness in his eyes encouraged more banter, so I stayed silent so he could finish. “Up until now there hasn’t been a need to reevaluate our military. The kingdom followed my father, and his father and every other king to the very letter, save for the random Shape-shifter that would cross the line, and your parents…. But even Amory stayed carefully in line, biding his time until he was certain a move could be made,” he smiled at me, hardly containing the laugh that wanted to escape his lips. “Now it seems, all hell has broken lose.”
“And that’s my fault?” I huffed, not believing I was the sole reason for the downfall of an entire kingdom. I mean, I knew what kind of future I hoped for, and how I wanted to be a part of it, but always I thought, with or without me, this kingdom was already on this journey. I assumed I just jumped on a moving train already headed for collision. I didn’t realize I was the one who put the train in motion….
“Yes, it is,” Kiran affirmed gently. His eyes searched mine, held mine. I looked away unable to stand under his penetrating gaze or trust my heart when he looked so…. vulnerable.
“So the guns?” I prompted, wanting to get to the point and then get the hell out of the forest.
“I think it prudent you learn to use one, just in case,” he finished matter-of-factly.
“You’re probably right,” I sighed, holding out my hand for the gun.
“Besides, I know how you like to be prepared,” he added suggestively.
I squinted my eyes at him pretending I didn’t know what he was talking about, but my memory retreated immediately to the courtroom, only of couple months ago where I demanded we practice kissing so that I could trust my reaction in front of other people. My cheeks blushed immediately, and Kiran’s thoughtful smirk confirmed his memories were in the same place.
“The gun?” I demanded weakly.
He put the handgun in my hand, and explained the general instructions. He caressed my hand, moving it to the natural hold the gun was designed to accept, and wrapped his arms around me like he did with the shotgun so that my second hand could support the first. He explained this gun would also have kickback, but not nearly the kind of force that came with the hunting rifle. He unlocked the safety, but stayed close to me this time, his chest pressing against my back.
The handgun, considerably lighter than the other gun, felt natural in my hand, natural in the sense that it fit in my female’s grasp, and didn’t threaten to literally take the head off something if I misaimed. I still knew the dangerous power this weapon was capable of, and decided the only weapon I would ever feel comfortable using was my own magic.
I aimed at the target that stood only twenty feet away from me and fired. I utilized my magic fully this time and hit the target dead center. I smiled proudly, even as my arms flailed upward at the recoil. Some irrational part me of me had wanted the shot to come off my hands gracefully like my true calling belonged in action movies as the witty her**ne, smart enough to outsmart the bad guys and tough enough to kick some ass if it called for it. Maybe with some more practice….
“Good,” Kiran encouraged. “Again.”
I obeyed, setting up my stance again. He stepped forward into me, but I hardly noticed, my concentration focused on the target. I took another shot, obliterating the board where my first one marked the target. My hands were more controlled in the kickback this time since I knew what to prepare for, but my shoulder slammed against Kiran’s hard chest.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, half turning my head.
“Again,” he ordered.
I fired several more shots like that, Kiran close behind, but my attention glued to the target stand and my successes. My magic worked effortlessly with the weapon, using it as an extension of my natural power.