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"Again," Hadria orders.
I steel myself and fire. The second shot echoes, even farther off target. One left.
But I've stopped shaking this time. If this is really what Hadria wants, she can damn well have it. I aim carefully at her torso and pull the trigger.
Next to her ear, the bullet thuds home, and even Hadria looks a little surprised at how close I came.
But it's still another miss. I let my hand drop, pulse racing. Hadria jogs back up and shrugs at Lyssa, amusement flickering in her eyes. "She couldn't hit water if she fell out of a boat. I think I'll be fine."
And then Hadria plucks the gun from my shaking hands. Her touch lingers, sending a shiver through me.
"And when you've trained her to take the wing off a butterfly thirty feet away?" Lyssa asks, high and cold.
Hadria gives a grim smile. "Then I'll depend onyouto do your job and protect me. Now, Aurora and I are going to the range. I don't want to be interrupted."
She walks away without a backward glance. But I do look at Lyssa, who is still staring at me with an unreadable expression. She tilts her head slightly, then makes the unmistakable gesture of pointing her first and middle fingers at her own eyes, then pointing them straight at me.
I'm watching you.
I hurry to catch up with Hadria and then match her long steps as she leads me through the sprawling house, down to a back room on the lower floor, where she shows me a blank square sitting inconspicuously in one of the wall panels. Hadria presses her hand to it, and it comes to life: a scanner, scanning over her handprint. Then a faint click sounds and the wall panel next to me slides open to reveal a staircase descending into darkness.
I hesitate, anxiety knotting in my stomach. Hadria pauses, fixing me with an assessing look. "You have nothing to fear, Aurora," she says seriously. "On my authority, no harm will come to you at Elysium."
Her words surprise me, especially after her threats to take the gardens away from me, but hearing my name on her lips sends the same confusing thrill through me that it always does.
We descend the shadowed staircase and step out into an underground shooting range, complete with a weapons room that would rival that of a small army. My mouth drops open at this state-of-the-art facility secreted below the house.
Hadria's mouth curves slightly at my awestruck expression. "Impressive, yes? But marksmanship is a crucial skill in my line of business, as I'm sure you understand."
I swallow hard as her reference to her criminal power hangs in the air between us. It's a harsh truth, but I'm at the mercy of a dangerous woman.
"All my soldiers train here," she goes on. "And so will you."
"I've never heard anything," I say after a moment. "Any…shooting, I mean."
"Soundproofed." Hadria leads me past empty shooting stalls to a locked metal cabinet at one side. With practiced ease, she retrieves a sleek handgun, checking the clip and chamber before turning to me. "These are my own," she tells me by way of explanation. "Have you ever fired a gun before?"
I shake my head mutely.
"Then it's time you learned. Being able to defend yourself is a basic life skill, Aurora."
She's right. Enough trembling. If I want to survive, I need to adapt. "Teach me."
Without another word, she guides me into the nearest stall and hands me noise-canceling earmuffs and protective glasses. Once I have the gear in place, she shifts into instructor mode. After a talk about the basics of gun safety that sounds almost surreal coming fromher, she gives me the gun.
"This is a Glock 19 semi-automatic 9mm pistol. Grip it firmly in both hands like so..."
She moves behind me, guiding my hands into the proper hold on the weapon, her breath warming the nape of my neck. I repress the urge to arch into her sudden closeness. Hadria nudges my feet into position with the toe of her boot, adjusting my stance, and my own breath quickens.
"Dominant hand here, support hand here. Good. Now, look down the sight and focus on the target at the end of the stall."
I peer down the barrel at a paper outline of a human torso, black against white, hanging thirty feet away. Planting my feet, I tighten my grip and line up the sights.
"When ready, squeeze the trigger slowly. Don't yank it."
Taking a deep breath, I squeeze the trigger. The recoil punches my hands back as a shot explodes from the gun. I completely miss the target.
Hadria's hands brace me firmly. "Again. This time, expect the recoil."
