Page 13 of My Guardian Demon

"Hey, man," I said, tipping my chin at him. "We need to rent a pistol and book two hours of range time." I grabbed some ear plugs from a display beside the register and put them on the counter. "These, too."

"No problem, Mr. Donahue." Apparently, I came in often enough to be recognized by the staff. I liked to blow off steam there. The cashier rang up my requests and gave me a total. I slid cash across the counter and hissed at Wynn when she tried to protest.

"You can't pay for everything," she said.

"I'll pay when I want to pay. Don't worry about it."

"But I am worried about it. I don't want to owe anyone."

I paused for a moment, wondering if she'd grown up around fairies. If you took anything from fairies without payment, they could enslave you in exchange. I eyed her for a second then shook my head. Nah. Wynn wasn't aware of magic. She was smart, not wanting to indebt herself to a demon, though — even if she didn't realize that's what she was trying to avoid.

"You don't owe me anything."

"Stop paying for me and I won't."

"You don't owe me. Stop protesting."

I nodded at the cashier as he slid a 9mm pistol and ammunition across the counter to us.

I put the ammo and earplugs in my pocket, picked up the pistol, and walked over to the door that led to the range. Wynn followed me.

I held the door for her and we walked through. The range consisted of individual booths where shooters could set up. Lines along the floor clearly marked a lane for each booth. A wired system at each booth allowed the shooter to press a button to put out or call in their target. Bulletproof backing lined the walls behind the long lanes.

Two other people were at cubbies toward one end of the range. I led Wynn the opposite way and motioned her into the cubby at the end. A fresh paper target of a man's silhouette was already mounted down the lane and ready to go. The staff often replaced targets at empty lanes.

I handed Wynn a pair of earplugs. "Here, put these in."

Wynn looked at me hesitantly but did as I said. I also put in a pair of earplugs.

Even with the earplugs in, Wynn could hear me if I talked loudly.

I showed her what the bullets looked like and how to load the pistol. I made her practice loading and unloading the gun a few times.

Eventually, I took the gun from her to show her how it worked. "This is the safety button. Always keep it on unless you're going to shoot. When it's off, it means you're willing to kill someone. I need you to have that mindset. If you have to shoot, you're ready to kill."

I showed her how to shoot, my shot tearing through the chest of the target in the lane. Afterward, I handed her the gun and coached her on how to shoot it.

"Put your feet shoulder width apart," I instructed. "Are you left-handed or right?"

"Right," she said, spreading her feet.

"Balance yourself like someone is trying to knock you over. Since you're right-handed, put your left foot forward a little and your right foot back a little." I watched her put her feet in the correct positions. "Good. Now, grip the pistol with enough force to keep it from moving. Two hands on the grip, the index finger of your right hand on the trigger. It's going to recoil a bit when you fire it, so keep a good hold on it. Always stand with your feet pointed in the direction you're going to shoot. Shoot for the middle of that target straight ahead of you. Squeeze the trigger to fire. When you're ready."

"That's a lot to remember."

"Don't worry, you'll get it. We'll practice."

Wynn winced when she fired her first shot. It hit the paper target but not the body on the page.

"Good. Did you feel like it moved you back at all?"

"Maybe a little."

"Adjust where your weight is on the balls of your feet. Keep practicing. Remember, if you're forced to shoot, shoot to kill. Always protect yourself first."

Wynn fired shot after shot, perfecting her technique, until she consistently hit the chest of the target. She didn't hit the bullseye, but she was a natural. Her progress made me happy. A shot like that would knock Eston down if he made a move. If I didn't get to him first.

"Good," I said as I took the pistol back. "We'll come back for more practice next week."

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