Page 39 of Unholy Tsar

Maybe she is, maybe she isn’t. I’m just desperate for a distraction.

A gorgeous grin spreads out under those rosy cheeks as I return the wooden gun back to the closet and unlock the gun shelf. I take out a Glock 19, the perfect choice for any beginner because it’s simple to take apart for cleaning, has great range, and best of all, can be easily concealed.

Really, I should teach her how to clean it first, but she’s so visibly excited that I decide to let her get a shot or two in first.

I make sure the safety is on before handing her the gun.

She accepts it reverently.

“Careful, little one,” I mumble, ready to spring into action if she makes even the slightest wrong move. “Here.”

I tell her to take her stance in front of one of the stalls, then I show her how to take off the safety. “Good. Now try pulling the trigger.” I lead her into position as she aims. I’ve never seen such a bright smile in my life. It feels endless… until she pulls the trigger and misses the target.

But I won’t allow her time to get discouraged.

“Again,” I order, taking a few steps away to study her. She keeps shooting, but can’t for the life of her get the bullets to go straight.

“Damn it,” she curses, her shoulders drooping as she puts the safety back on the gun and turns to face me. “I didn’t think it would be a big deal… but I think the wound on my hand is making me flinch. That’s why I keep missing the target.”

“The wound is not on your dominant hand,” I remind her. “That’s not what’s stopping you. It’s your stance.”

“What? But I got it right, you said so.”

“Yes. You get the stance, but when it’s time to shoot, you shift your feet back. It’s subtle, but it’s enough for you to miss your target. Here.” I move closer to her and turn her body to face the target. “Get in stance.”

She does as I say, and I place my hand on her spine to keep her steady. “Now, shoot.”

As the gun goes off, the deafening bang echoes through the air, followed by the pungent smell of gunpowder. My eyes dart to the target, seeing the bullet piercing through the stomach.

Not bad.

“Yes!” she shouts, clicking the safety back on before dropping the gun on the counter. “I fucking did it!”

I can’t help but smile as she joyfully raises her hand and bounces around the room. Her happiness is infectious.

Still, I know she has a long way to go. I’ll get her there, though.

Suddenly, my phone buzzes in my pocket, and I tense up when I see the caller ID.

Keir.

I texted him last night to look into Cecilia’s kidnappers. Does he have something for me already? I glance up at Cecilia, still caught up in her happy dance, and silence the call.

I’ll get back to him later when I’m alone.

“That’s enough for today’s lesson, Myshka. Now, come with me.”

15

CECILIA

When we get into the elevator, Maksim presses the B button. B for basement. My brows shoot up. “Umm, where are we going?”

He gives me a distracted glance. He’s been acting strange since he got that call earlier. Cold almost. “I’m taking you to your apartment.”

My heart sinks, and a strange lump forms in my throat. “What? What do you mean? I thought I was supposed to stay here a little longer?”

“I changed my mind,” he says simply. Before I can protest, the elevator opens into the underground parking lot. Shit, shit, shit.