“How much sleep do you need?” she asks, a serious expression falling over her face.

“Four hours or I’m a zombie.”

She glances at my outfit. “First, we need to get you the right clothes. Come.”

I follow Winter back to the house and to a bedroom where she gives me a similar outfit to the one she’s wearing. Black cargo pants and a black shirt that’s super tight-fitting. It turns out we’re the same size, and I grin as I look at my reflection. Now I really feel badass.

“Boots,” she says as she drops them next to me. “I suggest you get a couple of these outfits when you have the chance to shop. It’s best for fighting.”

“Okay,” I nod as I sit down and pull on the boots.

When I stand up, Winter gives me a look of approval, and then she leads me to a barn beside the house. It’s set up as a gym, and there’s even a shooting range.

Winter leads me to the shooting range then takes a gun from behind her back that I didn’t even notice.

Am I getting used to seeing weapons already?

She takes off the safety then takes a stance, saying, “You’re going to spread your legs a little and lock your elbows in so your arms take the recoil of the gun.”

I mimic her, and then she moves in next to me, handing me the weapon. The metal feels foreign and dangerous against my palm, and my heart begins to beat faster.

“Take aim,” she instructs.

I do as she says and make sure to lock in my elbows.

“When you’re ready, pull the trigger.”

This will be the first time I’m firing a weapon, and there’s a weird exhilaration pulsing through my veins.

I take a deep breath, and when I exhale, I squeeze the trigger. The bang isn’t as loud as I expected, and the weapon jerks in my hands, but I have no idea where the bullet went.

I grin at Winter. “That’s so cool.”

Chapter 22

ARIANA

Suddenly arms wrap around me, and my head swivels. I relax when I see it’s Demitri. Placing his hands beneath my forearms, he nudges my hands up. “Higher. You want to hit the chest or head. Don’t try and look down the barrel at the target. You have to get a feel for where you want the bullet to go.”

“Like throwing darts?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“Okay.” I take another deep breath and fire the gun to see where the bullet goes and when it clips the bottom of the target, I adjust my hands higher and then fire another shot. When the bullet tears through the chest of the target, a wide smile spreads over my face.

“You’re a natural,” Winter comments. “I’m going to check on Nikolai while you keep practicing.”

Demitri moves to my side and crosses his arms over his chest. There’s a pensive expression on his face as he watches me fire shot after the shot until the target is riddled with holes.