Destruct: The Guard Trilogy Read online

  “You’re not interested in the guns?” Rylan asks, suddenly beside me.

  “Jesus,” I shriek, the shock of his sudden appearance causing me to drop the star and letting the fine edge slice through my thumb. “Ow, shit,” I groan as I squeeze my stinging thumb between my fingers, then open it up to find blood pooling into my palm.

  “Didn’t mean to scare you,” he cringes reluctantly as if the admission hurts him. “Come, you’ll probably get some disease from that,” he orders as he reaches down to collect the star before leading me into the control room.

  I silently follow him as he walks over to the small desk, pulls out a chair and indicates for me to sit down. He walks to the other end of the room and grabs a first aid kit out of the large overflowing cupboard. “I could have sworn I said something about not touching anything,” he mumbles with a shake of his glorious head. He grabs a second chair in the corner of the room and puts it down in front of me, takes a seat and starts to rifle through the first aid kit. His proximity has my head swirling and I once again feel weak.

  “Well?” he asks, reaching for my clenched hand and forcing it open as I take guilty pleasure in the feel of his hard hands on mine.

  “Well, what?” I say as he douses my wound with some sort of antiseptic liquid that stings like a bitch. “Holy shit,” I screech and attempt to rip my hand from his. He holds on tight and repositions my hand in front of him, squeezing my hand between his to try and lessen the sting.

  “Oh, sorry… This might sting a little,” he smirks sarcastically, in a tone that would rival one of my own, which in any other circumstances I would have appreciated and I realize he’s taking way too much pleasure out of this. “You weren’t interested in the guns? Everyone went for the guns, but you didn’t,” he points out as he begins cleaning the blood and liquid off my hand. “Why?” he asks.

  “Oh, uh… I guess I think guns are cheating. You know, anyone could use a gun. Just point and shoot,” I say, then cringe as he presses down a bandage on my thumb.

  His dangerous eyes sparkle in amusement. “I think you’ve got a lot to learn about guns. It takes a lot of skill to use one properly,” he says, then seeing my ‘yeah, right’ face continues on, “You’ll see. Let’s go.”

  He hops up from his chair and quickly cleans up the mess my thumb has left behind. I’m frozen in place, unable to move after his sudden absence. His fine sweet, manly smell lingering in the air around me making me dizzy. Rylan puts the first aid kit back in the cupboard and turns to exit the room, but stops in his tracks. “Are you going to sit here all day?” he asks in that same sarcastic tone, indicating for me to leave the room so we can get started on the day’s lesson. I jump up from my chair and rush past him out the door to join my classmates.

  “What are you doing all holed up in the control room with Rylan?” Daniel whispers in my ear from behind me, and if I knew any better there was definitely a hint of jealousy in his tone.

  “Nothing,” I say, turning to face him. “Apparently I find it difficult to follow instructions. I cut my thumb, he was fixing it,” I say, holding my bandaged hand up for him to see.

  “Righto,” Daniel says suggestively, trying to get a rise out of me, though this one hit a little close to home for my liking.

  “Why? You jealous?” I shoot back.

  Daniel dramatically throws his hand over his heart in a show of pain. “Oh, Bianca,” he cries. “Why do you hurt me so?” he says, making me break into laughter.

  I give him my best eye roll. “You’re such a moron,” I laugh.

  “I know,” he smirks. “You ok though?” he asks with a sweet sympathetic look that shows that he truly does care about me.

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” I say with a smile.

  “Alright.” I hear Rylan’s dominating voice over the excitement of the class. “We’ve wasted enough time. Let’s get on with it.”

  Chapter 8

  The room falls silent as each and everyone one of us become curious about what the day’s lesson will hold. Rylan silently picks up the box lying next to him and carries it over to a door before pushing his way through. The class follows him in a hushed silence with excitement filling the air. A nervous energy begins to fill me as I realize that today is going to be an important lesson, one that will stay with me for the rest of my life.

  Rylan walks deeper into the mystery room and the hyped up crowd follow along. I take a good look around and realize that I am standing in what seems to be a shooting range. It’s a dark room with a row of targets numbered 1 – 10.

  “Looks like we might get to shoot something after all,” Trey says in a hushed tone with his eyes widening in excitement. Feeling too nervous to respond, I simply give him a smile and continue down the corridor past the targets into a small clearing where Rylan stops and places the box on a small table. The group crowd around him and waits for Tessa to close the door and flip a few switches again.

  The room comes alive and I squint at the sudden onslaught of clinical light flooding the room. “Ok,” Tessa says in a serious tone. “Today you will learn to shoot a gun. You will each be given a handgun, safety bullets and protective wear. However, before you get started, we will give you a demonstration and some pointers on the correct and incorrect ways to shoot.”

  Rylan takes an intentional step forward, demanding the room’s attention. “Before we begin,” he says with complete and utter authority. “One rule,” he says holding up his pointer finger and giving each of us the stare down. “Anyone caught mucking around will be dismissed from this session. I’m sure I don’t need to remind you that this is a large factor of your grade. If you do not pass this part of your training, you may as well join a different elective. A gun is not a toy. It is a weapon and has the ability to end lives. So, while we are using safety bullets, they can still cause serious harm. Do I make myself clear?” he says, pausing for effect while the group of morons around me slowly nod their heads, too afraid to make a sound. “Good, now we’ll be demonstrating gun safety. Once you have got that, you’ll be giving it a go. Tessa will come around and hand you each a gun. They are not loaded. You will need to earn your bullets.”

  Tessa makes her way over to the small table, takes the lid off the box and picks it up. She begins to make her way around the room handing each of us a black handgun, she comes to me and I take it from her and the nerves in my stomach go wild. I suddenly feel dangerous with the hard cold metal in my hand, and I’m desperate to shoot it.

  “Alright, each of you should have a gun. Take a moment to get familiar with it, take note of the weight and the feel in your hand,” Rylan says as Daniel puts it in the waistband of his jeans, rips it out, lowers himself to one knee and holds the gun as if he’s 007. My eyes flick towards Rylan, who I’m sure is about to scold Daniel for screwing around, but he watches on in amusement before rolling his eyes and launching into his spiel on gun safety, which seems to last forever, nonetheless, I listen intently and take in every word he says.

  “Ok, who can tell me the types of bullets you would use for each supernatural creature?” he asks the room.

  My hand shoots up in the sky and his eyes lands on me. He gives me a nod to go ahead. “Silver bullets for were-creatures, wooden for Vampires and a chemical mixed for the Fae,” I say.

  “Right, and why a chemical for the Fae?”

  “Um…” I start, my eyes flicking to Tessa before landing back on Rylan. “Because they are natural creatures made of the earth and the chemicals screw with their system?” I say slowly, sure of my answer and starting to doubt myself.

  “Good,” he nods and continues on with the lesson. Phew!

  Excitement fills me when it’s time for demonstrations. Rylan steps up to the small white line painted on the floor with a target at the opposite end. He takes hold of his gun and expertly inserts the bullets, his muscles twitching with each movement. The act alone sending shivers throughout my body. Rylan pauses for a short moment and raises his arms, holding the gun firmly and comfo
rtably. He takes a deep breathe in then lets the bullet fly. I feel the noise echo through me and I completely miss the blur of the bullet, but I know without a doubt that it has hit home. He demonstrates a few more times and I find it physically impossible to tear my eyes away from the amazing man before me.

  A desperate need to succeed fills me and I watch Rylan as he finishes off his demonstration. I focus on his hard body, taking note of his technique and watching how he holds the gun, how he positions it, how he holds himself.

  Tessa sends us off to give it a go. I stand between Daniel and Trey, who are annoyingly excited. “Bet you can’t hit the target your fist go,” Trey whispers to Daniel with a smirk.

  “You’re on,” he shoots back with a wicked grin.

  “You guys are idiots,” I say, rolling my eyes.

  Tessa passes by handing out small boxes of bullets to each of the students. “Here,” she says handing me a box, then leans in. “I know you’re behind in combat, but with weapons training, you’re on an equal playing field with the guys. It will do you well to focus. Don’t get distracted,” she says in an encouraging whisper which for some reason reminds me of my Dad.

  “Got it,” I say with a smile and a small nod, ignoring the curious glances coming from Trey and Daniel.

  “Good, watch your shoulder. First time shooting can be difficult,” she adds then steps away to continue handing out the bullets.

  I place my bullets down on the small ledge in front of me and raise my gun, concentrating on Tessa’s words ‘You’re on an equal playing field with the guys’. This is my chance to redeem myself, to prove that I belong in combat. I focus on the target in front of me and take slow deliberate breaths the same way Rylan had, ignoring the loud echoing gunshots coming from all around me and I remember to put my protective gear on.

  Feeling confident that I can do this, I bring my gun back down and load it the way that we were shown, feeling the curious eyes of my classmates on me, who have no doubt each shot at least three or four bullets by now and are wondering just what I have in store. Nerves begin to quiver in my stomach. I try my hardest to ignore my surroundings and focus on the red rings of the target at the opposite end of my lane. I raise my gun and position my body, mimicking Rylan’s earlier demonstration. My finger rests over the trigger, I take a slow deep breath and pull down hard.

  Pain shoots through my arm, high into my shoulder and my whole body is thrown back from the force of the gun. I steady myself and place the gun down on the small ledge, breathing hard as I give my shoulder a rub, knowing that it’s going to hurt tomorrow. I focus once again on the red target and sure enough, in the bottom right hand corner is my little bullet, poking out of the target.

  “Holy shit,” Daniel says from beside me in complete disbelief. “You actually got it.”

  “Um, not really. I got the corner, not the actual target,” I clarify, slightly confused.

  Daniel averts his eyes, looking anywhere but at mine. “You didn’t think I’d be able to do it,” I accuse, completely outraged and causing an apologetic smile to come to his face.

  “Good shot,” Rylan says from behind me, cutting off whatever harsh words I was about to throw at Daniel “You can do better. Go again,” he orders in a flat tone. The thought that he had watched my performance is equally thrilling as it is embarrassing.

  I raise my gun and prepare to shoot “Wait,” he orders, stepping forward and placing a hand on my shoulder rendering me speechless, then saying in a hushed tone. “The second you shot, you lost all tension through your arms and body. That’s why you had such a big kick back. Put your weight on your heels and hold your core,” he instructs, waiting for me to make the necessary adjustments. “Right, now raise your arm a little higher and check your line. Then give it a go.”

  Rylan steps back, giving me space to make my shot. I look firmly past my gun, down to the target, focusing hard on the center of the rings. I feel a lot more confident second time round, though, the hint of excited nerves linger in the background knowing Rylan is right behind me. I ignore the throbbing in my shoulder as I hold the gun steady. I take a breath and squeeze the trigger.

  Wow. That was heaps better. I stare down the target and see a second hole, this time slightly closer. Hell yeah! I freakin’ rock! I turn to face Rylan who has a hint of pride behind his eyes. He gives me a small nod then quickly turns and makes his way back down the line and I promise myself that I would do anything in my power to see that look of pride coming from him every damn day.

  With the boys concentrating on their own targets and Rylan far down the other end of the room, I’m finally able to practice shooting on my own terms. After a good shoulder rub, I put myself back in position and let a few more bullets sink into the target, after a few rounds I feel like I am on fire, despite the dull throbbing in my shoulder that reminds me I actually kind of suck. By the end of the session, I’ve managed to get the bullet a lot closer to the center of the target, but I still have a long way to go.

  Tessa calls out and instructs us to unload any bullets and leave our guns, bullets and protective gear on the small ledge. I place my gun down and stretch out my hand which has been cramping up for the past thirty minutes from constant shooting, though I’m sure I will just have to get used to that.

  We follow Tessa out of the room while Rylan stays behind to pack up. The boys are loud and enthusiastic about their session, each and every one of them bragging about their shots which I must say didn’t actually get anywhere near as close as mine had, but who am I to bring down their good mood.

  “Good work today. I feel that was an excellent introduction to gun use and safety. We will come back for round two next week,” Tessa says as she closes the heavy door behind her. “Please meet us here again for tomorrow’s session, we will be focusing on daggers.”

  The boys whoop and shout enthusiastically as they walk away from the shooting room. I turn to follow, but hear my name being called. I stop and wait as Tessa catches up to me. “You did really great today. You should be proud of that,” she says, squeezing my shoulder, and sending a shooting pain down my arm that I try desperately to hide.

  “Oh thanks, I must admit I was pretty impressed with myself,” I say, adding to the ever growing monster in which is my ego.

  “Good, you should be,” she says encouragingly. “I haven’t seen anyone shoot that good on their first try in a while. But keep up your practice. You’ve still got a long way to go, and you want to keep ahead of those boys. Anyway, I’ll let you go, you probably have a mountain of school work to get through,” she adds as if I’m actually going to go back to my dorm to study.

  “Thanks,” I grin before turning away.

  “Bianca?” she calls and I turn back to see her grinning from ear to ear. “Can’t wait to see what you can do with those daggers tomorrow,” she practically sings with excitement as I remember that knives had always been her favorite weapon.

  I walk back to my dorm room with a smile plastered on my face. I must admit, I’m feeling pretty good about myself at the moment. All I need to do is keep on top of those boys and I’ll graduate the best shooter. Just need to work on my shocking combat skills.

  I push through the door of my room and am shocked to find Jacinta curled up, in the dark on her bed with tears streaming down her pretty face. “What are you doing?” I say, confused as she usually studies in the library after class for at least a good hour.

  “As if you have to ask,” she cries. “I can’t show my face in public after my breakdown at lunch. I’m so embarrassed,” she adds, burying her face deep into her pillow.

  “Oh, come on. It really wasn’t that bad.” I say, flicking on the lights and sitting across from her on my own bed. Though, she knows I’m lying, it was that bad. “And it’s not like you said anything that we didn’t already know. The boys were just speechless because they’ve never seen you quite so…. animated before.”

  She sits up on the bed and squishes her pillow into her lap. “Whatever, I m
ade a complete ass of myself. Did he say anything during class?” she asks miserably.

  “Well… no,” I admit. “We didn’t talk about it. We were shooting today, so the boys were distracted, you know comparing the size of their guns.” She gives me a funny look and rolls her eyes at my witty comments. “I can talk to him for you.”

  “No that’s ok. I should talk to him myself,” she says. “He probably hates me after I yelled at him like that.”

  “No, I’m sure he doesn’t hate you, and besides, it’s about time a girl put him in his place,” I say with a smirk that finally wins her over.

  “You’re such a dork,” she laughs.

  “Glad I could help,” I say. “Now shall we go get a massive bowl of choc chip ice cream to brighten up your day?”

  “That sounds amazing,” she smiles, climbing up from her bed and wiping her eyes with the back of her sleeve. “Now tell me all about your shooting,” she insists. “I bet you were great. Oh, what happened to your hand?”

  “Well, it’s kind of a long story,” I say as we exit the room, launching into the details of my wonderful afternoon, not skipping a single detail.

  ----------

  Jacinta and I sit in the busy afternoon rush of the cafeteria sharing a massive bowl of choc-chip ice cream, covered in sprinkles. “Why hello, pretty ladies,” Daniel says with his trademark wink, plonking himself down at the table and eyeing off our ice cream. “Are you going to share?” he asks, grabbing my spoon as I quickly rescue it from his greedy fingers.

  “No way in hell,” I announce, protectively sliding an arm around the bowl and pulling it closer while I narrow my eyes at him in warning.

  “Alright, alright,” he says, holding his hands up in defeat. “Just remember ‘A moment on the lips, forever on the hips,” he laughs.

  “That may be true, but at least this ice cream is lucky enough to get anywhere near my lips and hips,” I say, slowly scooping up another bite of ice cream and putting it in my mouth, making sure to lick the spoon clean.