You Are Mine (Mine #1)(67)

“Learn to shoot.”

I bite my lip. “What about Cynthia and Bethany?”

“I'd like to teach them, but with your Father still their owner, I have to be careful. They've got extra wards on them.”

“Can't you do that for me?”

“I'm doing what I can, but I can't do everything. You shouldn't worry about them. You're around me more than they are. Plus, you're the one engaged to me, not them.”

“I don't think it's a good idea.”

“You need some means of protecting yourself, though I pray you never have to use it. Please do this for me.”

I don't want to touch a gun, let alone use it. But people rarely use the word please, and never a warlock. Plus, there was the moment when we met Councilman Barkley that I wished I had a gun. “When do we start?”

He slouches against the wall a moment, before coming to his feet. “Right now. Follow me.”

We leave the house, but instead of going to the gardens, we go to the side, trailing along until we come to a field. My muscles tense more the closer we get. One side has stacks of hay set up. He leads me across from the hay about two hundred paces away.

“This is your revolver. When we're not using it, keep it strapped to your leg where you can reach it through the pocket Katherine made for you.” He pulls out a black gun and lets it rest in the palm of his hand. The sun glows on it, making its deadliness shine.

I swallow.

“Never, ever point this at something you're not willing to destroy.”

“This really isn't a good idea.”

He grabs my hand and presses the gun into it, wrapping his own hand around it. “You can do this.”

The metal is cold against my skin. He takes his hand off mine and points to the long end of the gun. “This is the barrel. This is the hammer.” He flips a lever back. “Pull it back half way to open the loading gate.” He pushes it back up. “You try it.”

My fingers quiver as I pull it back. “Now what?”

He spins the middle part of it. “This is the chamber that holds the bullets. How many are there?”

I reach up to spin it myself and count. “Six.”

“Right. Always keep track of how many you've shot.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out some small brass items. “These are bullets. You slip them in the chamber with the point side down.” After showing me once, he holds them out. “Give it a try.”

I don't want to touch those things. With shaking fingers, I pick one up and point it toward the chamber. Instead of going in, it falls to the ground. “Sorry.”

“Don't worry about it.” He fishes it out of the grass and smiles at me. “See, no harm done.”

Some of my nervousness dissipates. I grab another bullet and try again. It slips in without a problem. After I get the other four loaded, he says. “If you're not going to use it right away, put the hammer up. If you're going to shoot it, pull it all the way back.”

He demonstrates then has me try. The gun is heavy. I pull the hammer back.

“Good.” His hand runs along my arm straightening it and sending tingles through my body. “Now aim at one of those haystacks and pull the trigger. When you get good enough, I'll put up a bull's eye for you.”

“Are you sure I should be doing this?”

“There's no one else around. You won't hurt anyone, we're just practicing.”

I bite my lip, lift the gun, and shoot. My arms jerk back and the noise hurts my ears. I yelp. The odor of smoke fills my nose, but it's unlike anything I've ever smelled before.

Zade laughs. “Try again. This time, look at your target. I'll spell your gun so it's easier to see where it goes.”

I scowl. The stacks seem so far away. He casts a tan spell that hovers over the barrel of the gun. I look at the middle of the hay stack and try to shoot.

“It's not working.”

“You have to pull the hammer back.”

“Of course.” I feel foolish.

After pulling the hammer back, I look at the hay stack again and pull the trigger. The sound is just as loud, but doesn't startle me as much. Zade's spell flies from the gun, and flows through the air following the bullet, lowering until it hits the ground. It's only half way to the hay stack.

“Better.”

“That was better?” I groan.

“Don't worry about it, progress is good,” he says. “How many bullets do you have left?”

“Um...four?”

“Good. Always keep it in your mind so you can remember without stopping to think. Now, try again.”

I grip the gun tighter in my hands, aim, pull the hammer back, and fire. This time the spell show's it going farther, but to the right.

“I can't aim this thing.”

“Sure you can, it's just nerves. Let me help you.”

He steps behind me, and wraps his arms around me until his hands are over mine. My skin warms. He smells of the earth and citrus. His breath tickles my ear.

“The gun isn't the enemy here. You've no reason to fear it if you treat it properly. Is it comfortable in your hands?”

Right now, none of me is comfortable, primarily where he's touching my back and arms. Compared to that, the gun is like a brush in my hand. I know better what to do with the gun than with him. “It's fine.”