Page 39 of Nazab

“Of course you managed to hit it on your first try,” Monica said with an envious eyeroll.

“Now it’s your turn,” he said and handed the weapon to her. It wasn’t going to be as easy for his female, since her balance wasn’t ideal. Her prosthetic leg didn’t give her the stability she needed, but she was adept at compensating for it.

Nazab showed Monica how to hold and aim the gun, then he got her to dry fire it a few times. “Do you feel more comfortable with it now?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said. “But it’s going to be scary when I fire a live round.”

“You’ll get used to it,” he said, then inserted the magazine into the rifle. “You’re all set,” he said, then moved behind her so he wouldn’t distract her.

Following his directions, Monica took her first shot. The rifle bucked a bit, but she was stronger than a human of her size. “Did I hit it?” she asked, peering at the stump.

“Nope,” he said, then shifted the gun up a bit so she could peer through the sight. “You hit the tree behind it,” he told her.

“Bummer,” Monica said in disappointment. “What did I do wrong?”

Once again, his female impressed him. She didn’t get discouraged or sulk that she wasn’t an instant expert. Instead, she listened to his advice and quickly began to improve.

“You hit the stump that time,” Nazab said on her fifth attempt, proud of her efforts.

“This is harder than I thought it would be,” Monica said. “The wind keeps messing with my aim.”

“We’re not quite as sheltered as I’d hoped, but this is good practice for you,” the knight said. “Your targets won’t stand still for you when you’re in the thick of battle. You’ll be shooting at people who are running or shooting back at you.”

Monica gave a small shudder at that prospect. “I’d better improve quickly, then,” she said. “Humans with black souls seem to outnumber the folks with gray souls.”

“Some who were on the verge of being evil would have turned bad after the Rapture,” Nazab mused. “They no longer needed to be civilized and were allowed to act out their worst fantasies.”

“What would a Knight of Order’s worst fantasy be?” Monica asked curiously. “I assume you all have white souls?”

“We do,” he confirmed, putting some thought into her question. “My worst fantasy would involve torturing Rahab and his squad in the most horrific ways I can imagine.”

“Would that make your soul turn gray?” she asked.

“I’m not sure, but probably,” he replied. “It’s not something we’ve done in the past, even if we’ve been sorely tempted to on countless occasions.”

“Have they ever tortured you guys?” she asked, then sighed. “Ignore that stupid question,” she said. “Of course they’ve tortured you.”

Nazab grimaced at the vague memory of being murdered slowly and painfully several times. “Rahab used to use us as bait to lure Amaros into a trap,” he said. “We all made a pact to end our own lives if we were captured after losing a few wars that way. I had to use my sword or other means to end things a few times, so my commander wouldn’t feel obligated to rescue me.”

Monica’s already pale face went a shade whiter. “They sound so evil,” she said. “I can’t believe one of those animals is my father.”

“Be glad I found you before Thamuz did, female,” Nazab said gravely. “He would have used his parental bond to control you. You would have faced my brothers and me in battle eventually.”

“I could never kill you, Nazab,” she refuted, lowering the gun to turn to face him. “Not even if my dad tried to force me to.”

He wished she was right about that, but his female had no idea what Thamuz and his squadmates had done with their younglings in the past. “I could never harm you either, my cambion,” he said and received a stunning smile from her.

They continued to practice with the weapon until it grew dark, then they headed inside. Monica ate some dinner then they sat in the living room, chatting about their lives and getting to know each other. They didn’t kiss each other when they headed to their bedrooms. It was too tempting and neither of them wanted to break her rule.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

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“STUPID RULE,” MONICA muttered beneath her breath when she got up the next morning. Her dreams had been full of scenes like rolling around on the bed with Nazab. They’d only shared a few kisses and she already wanted him more than any other man she’d ever met before.

Speaking of her knight, she sensed him downstairs and headed down to join him. “Morning,” he said in greeting, looking as handsome as ever.

“Hey,” she said, then nodded at the map. “How many places are we going to search today?”