More Than Flesh & Bone

Chapter 27

SHOOT 'EM UP

Dirt kicked up around us, billowing in the wind as we flew down the backroads of Seabrook. The shooting range was past the main part of the town, on the other side of the 'burbs, and deep into farmland. Zed hooked a left, not bothering with his turn signal. Two miles down the road he pulled over at an unmarked spot with the practiced ease of someone who'd done it countless times before.

"I'm still confused about why we had to take your car when mine works just fine."

He got out and popped his trunk. I followed after, slamming my door shut with my hip.

"Because I don't think yours has what we need."

Standing next to him, I stared down into his back trunk. The shocking part wasn't the guns themselves, but that they were literally all that was in there.

"No… I can't say mine does."

"You've probably never handled a gun before, so we'll start you off small," he said, picking up a .22 Smith and Wesson. It was a girl gun. I cocked an eyebrow and rolled my eyes, not that he saw it with my sunglasses still firmly in place.

He put the pistol in a case and clipped it shut, handing it over silently. I debated the merits of telling him about my past but decided against it. Let him assume I knew fuck all. I was going to enjoy this a hell of a lot more than leg day.

For himself, he pulled out a .50 Desert Eagle Gold. I snorted once, not able to help it.

"Problem?" he asked, lifting a dark brow.

"Nope," I said, not bothering to dial back the sarcasm. I stepped away from the trunk, my baby gun in hand as I waited for him to put that gold monstrosity away. Don't get me wrong, a .50 Desert Eagle was a solid gun, but the gold was downright tacky.

When he placed it in a holder behind his lower back instead of a case, I narrowed my eyes but didn't say anything. He grabbed a duffle bag, closed the back of his car, and ordered, "Follow me."

Not needing to be told twice, I came up beside him. We walked around the long edge of the cotton field before heading into the forest. A worn path showed the way he was leading. Late afternoon sunlight slipped through the trees, illuminating it before me.

"So…." I drawled, "weapons practice… call me crazy, but what exactly is a gun supposed to do to a werewolf? I mean, I've seen that thing, Zed. It's massive."

"Size means little when you have silver bullets. At least in the case of werewolves. If Missy knows half as much as she claims, she's not leaving the house without them." He brushed the branches in front of us aside. "Speaking of Missy. We need to check in with her when we're done here."

"Yeah. Probably wise given her machete…" I said slowly, moving into the clearing. A solid plot of earth had been cleared of trees and the ground was nothing more than hard, compact dirt.

"We also need to move Zayne's car tonight before my dad gets suspicious." He glided past me to a row of plywood stalls. A makeshift shooting range.

"Then we do it tonight before patrol," I said, coming up beside him. "You should take it back to your parent's place. It's the most obvious place besides ZOM, so it shouldn't raise too many eyebrows if someone finds it."

I laid the black case down and popped the locks while he opened the duffle bag. He reached inside and pulled out a paper bullseye and scotch tape.

"Agreed," he grunted, zipping the bag shut before I could get a better look at what all else was in there. "We also need to work on learning what exactly your powers are. There's no reason that chair should have practically shattered when you kicked it. And when you tackled Zayne, you did that thing where you moved faster than I thought possible. I think it has to do with what Eliza was telling us."

"The whole Daughter of Death thing?"

He nodded and then looked over at me and lowered his sunglasses. His warm brown eyes were intense. "We need to find out what exactly you can do. If reapers are supposed to be a watered-down version of whatever you are, that means you should be capable of doing a hell of a lot more than shredding souls."

A shiver went down my spine that had nothing to do with the weather.

"I'm not really sure I want to shred souls if I'm being honest. It seems a little extreme if a gun works just as well." I motioned to the firearm lying on the makeshift counter, and his eyes hardened.

"Setting aside that you don't like it, Eliza also said you're being hunted and that whatever killed you in your past lives seems to find you every time. You need to be prepared for when a gun doesn't work… or even more likely, when you don't have one."

I swallowed hard. "Well… when you put it that way…"

"You can't die by normal means anymore. It's unlikely that any regular supe could kill you, or us, at this point, but you still need to be able to protect yourself. Those few extra shots or even a couple of well-placed blows could be the difference between winning or dying. And I, for one, don't want to die."

"I don't want to die either, but shredding someone's soul is…"

"Killing them when you don't have another option." He flicked his eyes down to the gun in the case as if it proved his point. "Hence why we're training with guns right now, and not more permanent methods."

Yet. He didn't say it, but it was implied.

"You know… Call me crazy, but I don't think a gun is likely to work on whatever it is that's hunting me," I said as he turned.

Zed gave me a look over his shoulder. "No, I doubt it will. But until you can learn how to soul shred, they'll at least give you a head start in getting away." With that, he walked off to go put up the targets on the humanoid shapes starting me down from the other side of the range. I mulled over what he said as I pulled out the .22 and hit the clip to release the magazine as I began loading it.

I was just finishing as he came back around the wooden row and started toward me.

"Now, the first rule…"

"Is don't pull a gun unless you plan to shoot it," I answered.

His steps slowed as he approached from the side. My left foot slid back as I lifted the .22 and clicked the safety off. Flipping my sunglasses up, I lined up with the target over the closest human cut-out's heart.

Inhaling once, I held my breath.

My finger squeezed the trigger.

The gun went off, but I was ready for it.

From here, it should have been hard to tell where I'd hit, but this enhanced eyesight was good enough to see the hole in the paper over the very center. I shifted, re-aimed, and repeated the process, shooting the target in the head before moving to the next target, which was further back.

Once more, I hit both the center over the heart and between the eyes. I was onto the third when I felt Zed move closer. Not letting him throw me, even for a second, I unloaded two more bullets before aiming a nut shot at all three targets.

Never once did I miss.

There was still one bullet left as I lowered the gun and set it on the wooden surface. Zed was leaning against the plywood stand when I turned to face him.

The muscle in his jaw clenched. His coffee eyes were unreadable as they settled over me.

"I take it you've done this before," he said. His voice deep. Hoarse.

"Really?" I asked in mock surprise. "What gave you that idea?" I put both hands on my hips and pressed my lips together.

"I underestimated you," he admitted, lowering his head a fraction.

"Badly," I replied, enjoying this far too much.

"Can you really blame me given your running before your powers kicked in? How was I supposed to know that you've ever even held a gun before? Let alone that you'd be more than mildly proficient with one?"

I snorted. "Well, for one, you ask instead of assuming like an asshole." He rolled his eyes, and I took a step forward, coming chest to chest. "For two, I've been running for all of a month at this point and I'm getting there. Given that I can even keep up with you now as it is, it won't be long before I pass you in that, thanks to my newfound powers, buster."

His jaw tightened, and I wondered if it was because he knew I was right, or if he thought I was dead wrong and being obstinate. Either way, I was a little over constantly being underestimated. I mean, I was pretty damn good with a baseball bat, even if he'd yet to see my bad-ass skills in that department.

"Where'd you learn to shoot?" he asked, completely ignoring my previous statement.

I let it slide for now. My point was made.

"Okay, first, you've met Missy. It shouldn't be this big shocker that I have interesting hobbies, though not to her level."

He nodded. "Point taken."

"But second, I went to college in LA. Gang violence is no joke. I took up shooting when an old boyfriend suggested it. Turns out my photography degree isn't completely useless. Steady hands are useful for more than just taking pictures." I shrugged, but he didn't seem placated. If anything, Zed was even more interested in me now.

"You never cease to surprise me," he said eventually.

"That a good or bad thing?" I asked, leaning in. He inclined his head forward. Warm fingers skimmed the base of my neck as he brushed my white hair back and whispered, "I'm not sure yet."

My heart raced.

Thoughts of a dark hallway and strong arms and mind-shattering kisses started to pull me into a haze. My lips grazed the stubble of his jaw.

Then gunshots went off.

I jumped, turning toward the sound. His left hand was extended, and the Desert Eagle was in it. The scent of gunpowder filled the air. I looked past it to the three human targets.

Next to every hole I left was a second slightly larger one.

The dickhead just had to outdo me, shooting without even looking.

"You're an asshole," I said, backing up.

"Tell me something I don't know." His smile was cocky. Sin and seduction. I didn't know what the hell we were, but I did know I wanted to finish what we started in the hallway just as much as I wanted to throttle him some days.

My phone buzzed, pulling me from the moment.

Two texts from Missy. I swiped right, and Zayne, unconscious but hog-tied, greeted me with the heading: He got a little frisky, but it's handled.

I turned my phone to show Zed, and he dropped his head into his hand.

"I'm not sure I even want to know what 'frisky' means," he said.

"Probably not," I agreed. "Looks like that questioning isn't happening anytime soon, though. So now that we know I don't need to worry about target practice, why don't we go back to my place so I can change, then we can deal with the car and go on patrol. Should be easy enough."

Zed sighed under his breath. "Addie, nothing is ever easy with you."

I wasn't sure if that was a compliment or an insult. Coming from him, probably both.