Chapter 142 - Inseparable

Nash

I couldn’t tell if she hated the gift, or if she was just shocked by it. She was sitting there staring at the box in her lap like it might go off if she actually touched it.

“I know werewolves aren’t big on guns,” I said, as I steered the jeep down the narrow, twisting road. “But you live in a modern world. Your wolf is awesome, but she’s not invincible.” I nodded toward the handgun in her lap. “You need to be prepared, you need to be able to protect yourself against any enemy.” I swallowed down an unexpected lump in my throat. “You need to be able to protect our baby.”

Her hand went to her belly and her eyes widened. “I’d like to say I’ll always be there to protect you. Or that Louis will take care of you, but you know there will be times when we are unavailable.”

She carefully closed the cover of the box. “Thank you, Nash. I can see you put a lot of thought and care into this gift.”

Daphne didn’t know the half of it. Procuring a firearm in Canada wasn’t an easy process, but I had pulled a few strings, called in a few favors, and had procured a special permit for her to carry the small handgun. I had also called on an old friend of mine to secure the venue for this ‘date”.

It was a forty-minute drive up to an ordinary-looking farm. There were a few cows out in the pastures, some fat and happy chickens scratching in the yard, and a very old-looking German shepherd standing guard on the porch of the farm house. I knew Jerry, the owner of the quaint looking place, wasn’t at home, but he’d given me permission to be on the property.

I parked in the gravel driveway and jumped down, and hurried around to help Daphne out of the passenger side, even though she didn’t really need any assistance. “Bring the present,” I said. Once she was standing aside with her box, I reached under the seat and pulled out my own weapon.

Daphne looked a little nervous, as she glanced around the farm. “Um, we aren’t going to shoot the cows are we?”

I laughed. Jeezus, it wasn’t often that I just let myself laugh, but she was so funny. I tucked my weapon into the waistband of my pants so that I could take her hand and lead her, not toward the new barn, but toward an older one at the back of the property.

The big barn looked like it was ready to fall down. The roof sagged, the white paint had peeled, and the whole barn looked like it was leaning a bit to one side. It was clearly no longer used as a milking parlor. An old hay elevator was still sticking out of a loft in the upper story, and some rotting bails were stacked under it. The windows had been boarded up, and the big sliding doors were closed with rusted padlocks.

We circled around to the back of the building, and followed a well-worn path through the tall grass to a back door. Unlike the rest of the building, this one was new, heavy, and made from steel. It had a high-tech security system, and a camera that was watching anyone who approached the door. I keyed in the password that Jerry had given me and waited for the light to flash green seven times before I pulled on the handle.

If you pulled too soon, it activated an alarm and locked the door again.

Immediately inside the door, it still appeared like we had just stepped into a very old dairy barn. There was a dented stainless steel cooling tank, and odds and ends of milking equipment that were gathering dust and cobwebs. There were buckets stacked to one side, a pile of old feed sacks, more dusty bails of hay stacked around. I waited until the buzzer sounded, indicating that we could continue to the next door. Normally, that door required a thumbprint to deactivate the lock, but Jerry had entrusted me with the over-ride sequence, and a minute later we had entered the real interior of the barn.

The old barn was just a shell. Inside Jerry had created a training area, complete with a shooting range. The whole building was soundproof, so the neighbors never heard the sound of rounds being fired. When I flipped on the lights, the range was illuminated, with six stalls separated by plexiglass dividers, and automated targets that could be set at various distances.

As promised, Jerry had left booth three set up for us, complete with ear protection, eye wear, and several boxes of ammo.

Daphne blinked and turned a small circle. “You… you want to teach me to use it?”

“Of course. A purple sparkly gun isn’t going to be much use to you if you don’t know how to fire it.”

She shook her head at me, but she looked both excited and curious. “Let me show you the basics first.” I said, holding out my hand for the box. She passed it over and watched as I pulled it out of the protective foam.

“Someday soon I’ll teach you how to completely disassemble it for cleaning or repair, but for today, let's just work on the easy stuff. Come closer, let me show you.” She leaned in next to me. “This is a Glock 43. It’s small, and narrow, and excellent as a concealed carry. This part is called the hand grip, and this little button here will eject the magazine. Like so. Now you try. Don’t worry, it’s not loaded yet.”

At first, she seemed a little intimidated by the small pistol, but as I explained all the parts and their functions, and she practiced handling it, she slowly grew more confident. Finally, we stepped up to the booth. I helped her put on the eyewear and ear protectors, and then put on my own. It was funny how I thought I could hear her heartbeat even more clearly after the heavy earmuffs were over my ears.

“Now,” I spoke loudly right next to her ear, “Pull the slide back to chamber the first round, just like we practiced.”

She used her palm to pull back the glittery slide.

“Align your eye with the sight and the target.” I directed. I stood behind her, so that my front touched her back. “Feet slightly apart, keep your shoulders square to the target…” I ran my hand over her shoulders, pressing them down slightly to keep her from tensing and bringing them up by her ears. “Arms straight and strong, but don’t lock your elbow, that’s it. Now when you are ready, squeeze the trigger.”

I kept my hands on her body, not because she needed correction, but because I needed to touch her. Her first shots missed the target entirely, which was to be expected on her first try. “It’s okay, babe, you are doing great. Reload and try again.”

I watched closely as she slid the bullets into the magazine, and then popped the magazine back into the grip. This time, when she squeezed the trigger, the target twitched, and I could make out a neat clean hole just beside the neck of the human silhouette. She jumped with excitement. “Oh! I hit something that time!”

“You are getting it,” I said, running my hand down her spine. "Try again, and this time, remember your breath. Take a few deep breaths, and when you are ready to shoot, take half a breath and hold it.” With my hand on her back, I could feel her ribs contract and expand, and then pause as she fired again.

The target twitched, and a neat hole appeared in the abdomen of the figure. “Nice one! Do it again!” The third shot missed, but the fourth, fifth, and sixth all found their mark, with the last being a clean head-shot right between the eyes. I pushed the button on the control box to retrieve the target so that she could examine her handy work.

Her eyes were sparkling, she was laughing. She was excited, and I was pretty sure she was enjoying herself. “One more time, please?” she pleaded. I loaded another target and sent it back while she reloaded her pistol. I started to put my hand on her back again, but she squirmed. “No touching! That’s too distracting!”

“Oh, sorry!” I removed my hands and shoved them in my pockets, because the need to touch her was so ever present and so overwhelming that I practically couldn’t help myself when she was near. I took a step back, and felt almost cold for the two-foot distance I had put between us.

This time five out of six shots made the target, and at least two of them would have been fatal if they’d penetrated skin and bone instead of target paper. “Okay,” she said, stepping back. “It’s your turn, let's see what you can do. And don’t be a show-off.”

I was never a show-off… but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want Daphne to be impressed with my marksmanship. I pulled the pistol from my waistband, and quickly took the stance I’d just been teaching Daphne. I squinted my dominant eye and looked down the sight at the humanoid shape. I put the first bullet between his imaginary eyes, and then into his nose, and then the mouth, one into the neck, and two more into the heart.

I took a breath and set the gun down on the table. I turned to find that Daphne wasn’t watching the target, her eyes were on me, and they were dark and stormy. She licked her lips and pulled off her ear-protectors as she stepped forward, closing the short distance between us. I was completely distracted by the way her tongue swept over her full, pink lip.

Another step, and she was pressed flush against me, her breasts crushed on my chest, her hands circling my waist and resting on the small of my back. She rubbed against me like a cat and made a low, rumbling noise in her chest, something halfway between a growl and a purr.

Who knew that a growling woman could be so hot? My blood suddenly ignited. I bent to kiss her, but just as our lips were about to meet, our safety glasses clanked together. I reached up and ripped them off, first mine, and then hers, tossing them carelessly back on the table.

“You made that look so… so sexy.” She looped her arms around my neck and pulled me back down, meeting my mouth with the same insatiable hunger that I was feeling. The moment our lips connected, it was like fireworks going off in my blood. I didn’t understand the mate bond. I wasn’t even sure I believed in it, but I was sure about one thing: I was addicted to her. I couldn’t get enough of her.

I didn’t think I could live without her.

It was crazy. But it was real.

Without breaking our kiss, I slid my hands down to her ass, and then grasped her hips, lifting her higher, pulling her tighter against my body. I backed her onto the table, and sent a box of ammunition scattering all over the floor, but I didn’t care.

Old Jerry almost certainly had security cameras all over this old-converted barn. Well, wherever he was today, he was going to get a show. I let one hand tangle in her long hair, while her strong legs wrapped around my hips, locking us together. I wanted her, I needed her, and I thought nothing, nothing could stop me from taking her.

“Nash,” Daphne gasped, pulling away from my lips, panting for breath, “What about Louis?”

S.hit. Except that.