Page 32 of The Secret of Pain

I cross the grass until I find the four of them about half a mile from the house, with five targets set up, each one farther back than the one before it. The fifth one is so far back, I can barely see the black dot in the center.

"This doesn't look impossible at all." I roll my eyes and they all chuckle.

"It'll be good practice. You can always have a few practice shots at the trees if you want. Seems fair," Colt says cockily.

"Hand me the stupid knives," I tell him, putting my hand out to him. He hands over five blades. I put four of them on the ground at my feet and get a feel for the one left. The weight and balance of it feels so familiar that I hide a smile and watch as each of them takes a turn at the first target.

Everyone hits the yellow ring, so close to the black dot, but not quite there.

I step up to the mark on the ground, and palm the knife until it feels just right. Reaching back, I throw the knife forward, watching in awe as it hits the yellow ring. Not quite where I was aiming for, but for a first go, I'll take it. I whoop and Colt grumbles behind me.

"Beginner’s luck."

"Don't be sore, Colt." Nate chuckles as my dad makes a note of who came closest and we get points, one to five depending where we hit. I got two points, having come fourth, with only Creek below me. He gives me a smile that lights up his whole face and I know he's not pissed I beat him. It’s only the first throw anyway.

The second target goes much the same, yellow ring all around, but this time I get third, and Nate grumbles too about stupid girls and beginner’s luck, while I do nothing but smile. Something about this feels so right, like something I've done a million times before. Like this is my thing, when I've never really had a thing other than dancing, and I'm not going to lie, it feels kind of epic.

"This is why you have the Archer’s mark," Creek whispers to me from behind, closer than I'd realized he was standing.

"I have what?" I ask, not moving away from him, barely any space between my back and his front.

"The Archer’s mark. One of your constellations. You've always been an excellent marksman. Your constellations represent parts of you from each life. Colt knows this, I don't know why he always thinks he'll beat you, but every life, he always tries. I just like watching him eat his words." His breath warms my ear and I shiver.

"Your turn, Creek," Nate says, eyeing us with another look that I can't read. Creek steps away from me and to the mark for the third target and hits the red ring with a shrug. I see my dad and Nate’s knives in the yellow, my dad’s closer than Nate’s, but still no black dot.

Colt swaggers forward and throws, but his frustration is clear before he releases the knife and builds further when it rides the line of red and yellow. "Fuck’s sake."

"It's okay, you might still beat me," I goad, and he gives me the finger, making me laugh. "It's all just good fun, you big baby. Suck it up."

I step forward and take the spot he was just in. Taking a deep breath, I focus on the target, filtering out the world around me in a way I didn't think possible. Without thinking too much, I release the knife and wait, holding my breath as it hits its mark. Riding the line of the yellow ring and the black dot.

"Well, hot damn!" My dad whoops, "she's still got it." I clap my hands and grin at his praise while the others just grumble. "That’s my girl," he says as I walk past him and gives me a high five. I haven't seen my dad this loose and happy in forever, it’s nice.

"You showing them how it's done?" Maddie calls as she reaches us back here, protecting her eyes from the sun.

"She sure is," Nate shouts back, and she laughs.

"Lunch is nearly done, so don't take too much longer."

"Yes, ma'am," Nate tells her with a salute and I laugh as she blows him a kiss. I wonder if my parents would still be as happy as they were if Mom was still alive.

I watch as they each throw at the fourth target, closer this time than last, but I still take top place when I graze the center dot again.

"Last chance, Colt. You're third. Your sister is winning. You think you can take her? There’s only a point in it." My dad goads him light-heartedly as Colt steps up to the mark.

"Shut it, old man. I've got this." He rolls his shoulders and stretches out his neck.

"Get on with it, stop delaying the inevitable," Nate calls out with a laugh. Apparently they don't mind losing as much as my brother does.

He throws and lets out a yell as his knife hits the center of the target. "Hell fucking yes. Now you can go eat crow, old man."

Nate waves him off and goes to retrieve the knife. "Only fair that we clear the board for everyone on this one."

The others take their turns, none coming as close to the central dot, but not seeming to mind. I step up to the mark and Creek appears behind me again. "You've got this. I've seen you make this hit without even thinking about it more times than I can count. Your mind is remembering, even if you can't tell. Don't think, just let go."

I take a deep breath and try to focus like I did before, filtering out the noise, letting go of everything, and focusing on nothing but the target and the weight of the knife in my hand. I line myself up and close my eyes, letting my instincts take over as I release the blade.

"Holy shit," I hear Colt say before I open my eyes and see my knife embedded deep in the target, dead center.

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