Page 91 of Cold-Blooded Creatures

“No. But good luck to you.” Snickering, Eislyn hurried to join Ezra.

I raised my eyebrows at Kali. “I asked a question.”

“I know,” she stated, and not a word more.

I plucked a dark strand out of her bun, silky and smooth, like water or sand. “Do you need additional motivation to listen to what Ezra is trying to drill into that beautiful head of yours?”

“Perhaps.” She angled her head. “What’s the offer?”

Stepping into her, I trapped her between the table littered with weapons at her back, me pressing into her front. “If you sit through Ezra’s lesson like a good girl and manage to hit a target, any target, at the end of it today, I will allow you to join us tomorrow.”

“Join you tomorrow? And you don’tallowme anything. Say something like that again and that target you’ve mentioned will become you.”

Chuckling, I brushed my knuckles along her collarbone, half exposed by her t-shirt. “Do we have a deal?”

“This is a terrible offer,” she huffed, and then, a tad suspicious, added, “Where would we go?”

I pulled her flush with me. “Fill your end of the bargain, and we will explain over dinner.”

Gears spun in her head as she mulled over my proposal, studying my face with a slight frown, her hands resting on my chest, the warmth from her palms seeping through my shirt. I wanted them to trail lower, down my abdomen?—

“Fine. But”—she raised a finger between us—“you have to hit every target with any gun I pick out and then we have a deal. I’m tired of you only sitting there and staring at us.”

We had not left her alone since last night. We were not risking another soldier coming and her not having any protection. Zion had spent this morning with her until she hadthreatened to slice his dick off if he attempted to tickle her one more time.

Pinching her chin, I leaned in. “I have stalked you for months before I stole you, and I will stalk you for the rest of your life.” I flicked her chin and let her go, motioning to the plethora of guns spread out over the wooden surface. “Lady’s choice.”

“A minute,” she said, and hauled Eislyn to the corner of the booth, their backs turned to us and voices hushed to conceal their scheming, interrupted only by their furtive glances at me, Ezra, and the table with firearms.

If it was not the heat, then it was her scarce giggles melting me into a godsdamn puddle, a pool of liquid idiocy.

Ezra came to my side and leaned against the post of the booth. “I heard you were attacked last night. Ilasall sent a soldier?”

“Unsuccessfully.” We had not shared the information with many, but rumors traveled fast. “He got his neck snapped before he came close to any of us.”

“And her? How is she doing?” He pried the hair tie out of his brown strands and secured the bun low on his nape anew.

“Coping.”

“That doesn’t sound good.”

“It’s—”

I cut off as she sauntered over to us from hers and Eislyn’s hiding spot and handed me a black semi-automatic handgun. “This one.”

“Are you sure?” There were guns on that table requiring a far more experienced shooter than the ordinary option she had chosen.

“Ezra mentioned the reliable range for a precise hit with this one is about fifty yards, and that dummy”—she pointed to the target at the end of the range, beaming with wickedness—“is about seventy yards away.”

“Let’s see.” I checked the handgun’s magazine, finding it fully loaded. Taking my position behind the table, I started from the right, pulling the trigger and shooting the closest target about five yards away and moving on to the others. Soon a bullet had reached every dummy in the range except the one she had indicated.

Her choice was smart and thought through. But she did not know I had trained in our shooting range since my teenage years and had been running our people through training scenarios involving firearms before Ezra and Ava had joined us.

And today the weather was perfect for this, only a barely-there breeze tousling my hair and messing up her high bun.

“You meant this one?” I asked and observed the bullet fly true to the final target. The wood splintered where the dummy’s forehead was supposed to be.

“Oh, come on!” she grumbled, blowing upward to get her hair away from her face.