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I nod, swallowing, a bit overwhelmed by the sudden intensity of everyone’s focus on me. “Yes?”
“There’s a big difference in knowing how to shoot and knowing how to kill,” he says. The quiet in the room underscores the gravity of what he’s telling me. “We could be under attack right this minute and you’d likely be able to shoot to kill and be successful.” He leans forward. “It’s something entirely different knowing it was your bullet that took someone’s life.”
My stomach turns. Aleks squeezes my hand. I nod wordlessly.
“Get acquainted with your weapons,” Mikhail says. “We’ll keep your skills between us. And Harper?”
I nod.
“Welcome to the family.”
“Thank you.” I clear my throat. “I have something to say.”
Mikhail nods. Aleks watches me, his blue eyes on fire.
“There are…situations… that might need something other than a deadly kill, am I right? Like… warning shots or maybe you need someone to disable a weapon, or, or… a camera or something. I could…disarm explosives or something. Incapacitate without causing a fatality.”
Aleks nods emphatically. “Absolutely.”
“Noted,” Mikhail says. Behind him, a baby cries and Aria stirs in bed.
“Aleks, she’s more skilled than any of us, but there’s a world of information you can still teach her. Are you ready?”
Aleks nods. “I am.”
“Excellent,” Mikhail says. “And just in time.” He sits up straighter. “I just got notification that there’s a mysterious drone flying over your house and three unmarked vehicles driving around the perimeter of your estate.” He looks at me. “Harper, ready to showcase those non-lethal skills?”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Harper
Ekaterina stands,a faint smile in her eyes as she gives me a wink. She’s the very picture of grace, her clothes unwrinkled, not a hair out of place. I’m still wearing the clothes I wore for practice earlier, and I’m in desperate need of a shower. I feel awkward, disheveled, and woefully unprepared.
Polina turns to Ivy and takes her hand. “Come with Auntie, Ivy. We’ll have some fun. Mama will be back soon.” She reaches out to squeeze my hand. “Show them what you’ve got.”
That didn’t put any pressure on me at all.
I realize my hands are shaking and remind myself of what Aleks said earlier.A woman who holds a gun like it was carved into her hand…
I steady the trembling and turn to Nikko, who tells me, “This way.”
I follow him down a hallway, Aleks close behind us. “Take her to the holding,” he says in a low voice, presumably so only we hear.
Nikko nods wordlessly, takes a sharp turn down another hallway, and stops in front of a door. I definitely need to spend more time figuring out the layout of this place. It feels like a labyrinth.
I watch as he punches in a passcode, slides a finger along an identification strip, and opens the door. When we enter, my jaw drops. Meticulously organized in a way that is all Aleks, I’m immediately struck by the harmonious arsenal of weapons.
I take a look around. The walls are gunmetal gray, soft lighting showcasing a glass stand outfitted with handguns and pistols, knives, and other things I can’t quite identify but which look lethal at first glance. Items for close combat.
To the right lies a long, sturdy tabletop, disassembled weapons’ parts and items for cleaning neatly arranged — a workplace, it seems. I open one of the heavy drawers, my eyes widening at the sight of row upon row of neatly organized ammunition.
At the far end of the room there’s a secure door that looks like it’s made of solid steel. “What’s back there?”
“The big guns.”
My eyebrows rise.
“Literally,” Nikko says with a chuckle.
