Stars of Fortune (The Guardians Trilogy 1)

Sasha didn’t like the feel of the gun any more than Annika, but she carried it down to the range, where Riley took over the lesson.

“We’re going to start with stance and grip. Basic Weaver stance,” she told Sawyer, “Two-handed grip.”

When she demonstrated, Annika shook her head.

“Sawyer shoots the gun with one hand.”

“And when you can shoot like Dead-Eye here, be my guest. For now, two hands. Your dominant hand presses the weapon forward slightly, and the other draws it back. Balancing. This’ll help you with the recoil. Dominant foot back and to the side, the other forward, knee bent. Most of the weight’s on your front foot.”

She had them practice, again and again, getting into position, lifting an unloaded weapon to eye level.

“Okay. Who wants to shoot first?”

“Sasha does,” Annika said immediately.

“Okay.”

“Load it like I showed you,” Sawyer told her.

When she had, Riley stepped behind her. “Take your time, take your stance, raise your weapon.” She laid a hand on Sasha’s back. “Don’t hold your breath when you squeeze the trigger. Squeeze it, slow and smooth and let your breath out.”

She did, felt the kick all the way to her shoulder, and the force of it, the sound of it like a punch in the heart.

She didn’t miss the target entirely, but put a bullet in the second ring in, to the right.

“Not bad. Adjust your stance, relax your shoulders. Try it again.”

The next shot hit higher, and still well to the right of center.

“You’re pulling it to the right. Think about that, fire again.”

Lower this time, Sasha noted, and another ring closer.

She fired several more, never hit center, but shot what Riley called a decent grouping.

She stepped aside, more than happy to unload and set the gun down, so Annika could step to the line.

Riley adjusted her stance, her grip, then stepped back.

Annika fired when told, missed the paper target, plowed a bullet into the wood.

“Okay. It’s okay. Don’t hold your breath. Don’t close your eyes. Eyes on the target this time, and squeeze the trigger.”

She did, hit the white of the paper, then lowered the gun.

“I won’t learn this. I’m sorry.” Deliberately she unloaded, handed the gun carefully to Sawyer. “I’m sorry, I can’t learn this. I’ll work harder, and I’ll fight, but I can’t do this. It feels evil in my hand. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Hey, don’t,” he said quickly when her eyes welled with tears. “We’ll find something else for you. No guns.” He looked meaningfully at Doyle. “She doesn’t have to use a gun.”

“Her call.”

“Yeah, it is. See that.” Sawyer holstered the weapon, put an arm around her shoulders. “Your call.”

“I’m going to fold the laundry. Sasha showed me how. I’m going to go fold the laundry.”

“We’ll think of something else,” Sawyer said to the group when she dashed off.

“I might be able to come up with something.” Bran looked after her. “Something that would give her a weapon, a defense, and not upset her. Let me work on it.”