Anarchy (Hive Trilogy, #2)(10)
I focused on my trainer again. “So headshots are the best for ash. Like zombies.”
Markus cracked a small smile. “Not every day I get compared to a zombie.”
“What about killing vampires?” I asked.
His face tightened with concern and he actually looked over his shoulder and up into the corner of the room. Following his gaze, I saw a small camera with a red light. WTF? Should have known we’d be under surveillance. Ash were not to be trusted, even though they were happy for us to do their dirty work.
“Generally we don’t train in disabling or killing vampires, they don’t like their weaknesses advertised. But the six of us have had to do some training. It’s rare, but sometimes the vampires in rival Hives can be a concern to the Quorum. In that case, grenades work well.”
My eyes bugged out. Grenades. That was a swift reminder that our official job title was protector of the Quorum and vampires. The other shit, bringing in new ash and policing stupid ash, seemed like PR work. Since vampires stayed away from ash as much as possible, it was easy to forget that they were the true power in our world. They used ash for their own gains; we were nothing to them.
“Right, so no need to worry about killing vamps.” I nodded, and said no more.
I understood that we couldn’t really speak freely with cameras around. Still … why the hell not? Some horny-ass vampires seduced our mothers and we were the ones being treated like shitbags? Like we owed them something? As more angry thoughts filled my mind, I realized my chest was heaving.
We were the vampire’s children and they treated us like the help! My rage over the culling had been pushed down and locked away in a place I didn’t go very often, mostly because I’m a big believer in not dwelling on shit you can’t change – that does nothing but drive a person crazy. But I hadn’t gotten over the culling. Not even a tiny little bit. Just barely hidden below the surface was my burning resentment that they had turned me into a murderer. That they used the killing of ash as a form of entertainment. Sure, I knew life was unfair for more than just ash, but things here needed a major shakedown.
Raising my arm and positioning my elbows correctly, I squeezed off six shots into the target dummy. Five of them went where I intended. Yes! Badass enforcer trainee with a gun. Shooting the dummy was quite therapeutic, enough that I could force the anger back into its box. The cage was a little shaky, but for now I was managing to keep it together.
I saw Markus squint. “Not bad,” he said with a shrug.
I narrowed my eyes at him as he patted me on the back, his hands massive enough to cover my entire shoulder blade.
“It’s just quite obvious that you were trained at a shooting range.”
My expression morphed into something mulish. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Markus went over to the wall and pushed a large red button. Suddenly my mannequin target started zigzagging towards me, fast—like vampire fast. Crap, the enforcer was right, I did not have much experience with moving targets.
The heavy mechanical whirring of the machine filled the room. “Now try,” Markus shouted.
Glancing down, I swapped out the first gun for a 9mm Glock; it would be more accurate for this type of shooting. Trying to focus on the zigzagging figure coming at me, I squeezed the trigger—missing. Damn, my concentration was not at its best with all the zipping around the figure was doing. Forcing my breathing to slow a little, I sighted along the gun again and shot until I heard an empty click. I lowered my weapon as I waited for Markus to halt the figure and bring the target toward us. It took a second for it to make its way across the long range. I counted the holes. Still my five from the first time.
“Well … shit,” I groaned.
Markus’ belly laughter caught me off guard. “You’ll get there, rookie. We all did.”
Rookie? Really? Was this shit going to stick too? I was kind of becoming partial to unicorn—it had a certain magical flare.
My walkie-talkie squawked. “Showtime, rookie.” It was Kyle. “We’ve got a call.”
My heart hammered in my chest as I quickly loaded my weapon and holstered it. Markus bolted from the room and I was hot on his heels. One of the first and most important lessons had already been drilled into my head. When we got a call, we needed to haul ass. A few seconds could mean life or death. Luckily, the elevator was open and waiting. Markus and I piled into it.
“You stay in the van. You do not enter the residence at any time,” Markus said to me.
“Yes, Ryder,” I replied, saluting him. Dude was channeling the head enforcer with his over-protective demands.
He gave me a serious gaze, uncharacteristic for the Scottish charmer. “You got off easy with the broken ankle last time. What’s that you and Jayden call us?”
We were almost at our floor. “The sexy six…” I said cautiously, wondering where this was going.
He nodded. “Well, there used to be seven of us. So stay in the van.”
The doors opened and he took off running. Holy shit, there used to be a sexy seven? That meant … okay, maybe I would be staying in the van.
The rest of the guys were waiting in the garage for us, one of the Humvees already loaded, engine running. I was not at all surprised to see everyone decked out in all black. Even I had worn my blackest of army-style outfits for my first shift as an enforcer rookie. It was an unofficial uniform since there was no official uniform. That had just been their totally clever ruse so that I’d fall for their really funny trick with the chocolate.