Page 93 of Heal Me

“No risk of that.” My smile fades. “But he doesn’t know I’m here, and the longer this remains a secret, the worse it’ll be when he does find out.”

“I agree with Sam; this is for your own good. Although I get why Cupid feels that way.”

“Because of—” And then I stop, remembering the warning Turek gave me about bringing up the name Gabby.

“Yes,” Amer says solemnly, finishing off his cookie and leading me to the gun range. I walk to my lane, eager to shoot Sam’s face off, on the picture anyway. The shooting range is fast becoming my favorite part of training.

Amer shakes his head. “Today, we’re going to practice just loading the guns. Sounds easy, right?”

“Yes,” I say hesitantly.

“With me coming at you with a knife, about to slit your throat,” he says, now standing at the other end of the room.

“You’re kidding?”

“Take me down before I get there so you don’t find out,” he says, now holding a knife with at least a six-inch blade. And then he charges me.

Shit! With shaky hands, I grab a 9mm and fumble with the bullets. He reaches me before I’ve loaded it. Dropping the gun, I move into a defensive stance. Amer takes a swipe at me with the knife, but I jump back.

“Of course, the better option is to have a loaded gun on you, but that might not always be the case,” he explains, shining the blade of his knife with a cloth. “That’s why you’ve got to become proficient at loading a gun, no matter the circumstances.”

“I’m taking the cookies back,” I tell him.

He smiles, and then turns around and walks to the other side. Amer flicks his wrist, and the knife is now sailing toward my head. It hovers in the air, an inch from my face. “Charlotte?”

“Yes,” I gulp, staring at the tip of the blade.

“Next time, duck,” he advises, the knife now back in his hand. “Ready to practice reloading?”

Training with Sam’s not looking quite so bad now. That’s what I get for assuming.

Chapter 39

Charlotte

I’m running through the Watcher compound, warming up for my training session. It’s day ten of hell week, at least that’s what I’m calling it. Sam has been brutal, and muscles I didn’t even know I had are sore. I’m okay with it though, because his little garage stunt—while a jerk move—showed me I still have fear to overcome. I’m hopeful the next time he jumps me, my spell will have worked, and I’ll rise above the fear.

Taking in the scenery, it’s different than when I was here yesterday; now, it looks like gentle rolling hills that could be found in west Tennessee, but I doubt that’s where we are. I’m not even sure we’re on this realm.

I keep a moderate pace until suddenly, I’m no longer running through rolling hills, but a dense forest. I stop, looking around, not sure how I got in here but sure as hell wanting to get out. The sound of a stick breaking behind me has me spinning, and all the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. That’s when I feel familiar steel arms go around my neck and middle, immobilizing me. “When are you going to learn not to let an opponent sneak up behind you?”

I raise my foot and slam it down on his with all my might, but it doesn’t do a damn thing. “Changing the scenery is cheating,” I gripe.

“You think a bad guy cares about rules?” he counters.

“Are you a bad guy?”

“I already told you I am.”

“You cared about rules enough to enforce them with Gabe.”

“Little girl, I warned you not to speak of things which you know nothing about.” He squeezes tighter, and I try to pry his arms away from my neck with my hands. It’s no use; his grip’s too strong.

“I know plenty.”

“And that is why I can’t let you leave this compound alive.” Feeling the energy shift, I turn my head as far as it will go and gasp. Sam’s shifted to his angelic form. His wings are huge, much larger than Gabe’s, and a shade of black so dark that describing them as black doesn’t cover it.

“You’re joking.” This has got to be another tough-love tactic like Amer used the other day.

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