Alluring Darkness: A Dark College Bully Romance (Kings of Blackwater Book 1)
Alluring Darkness: Chapter 17

The gun feels all wrong in my hands. It’s too clunky. Too unwieldy. I barely even know how to hold it properly, even though the instructor took pity on me and showed me the basics that everyone is already supposed to know.

Raising it, I try my best to aim at the paper target across the grass. Then I squeeze the trigger. The gun jerks in my hands, and the bullet shoots through the air and hits the wooden barrier that has been built behind the row of targets. I heave an annoyed sigh.

I truly despise performing poorly. And right now, I feel like a worldclass loser. It doesn’t matter what class we have, I’m somehow always the worst one at everything we do. The only thing I know that I’m good at is chemistry, but we haven’t started those classes yet. So for now, I sneak off to the chemistry lab in my spare time and work on my own, just so that I can build up my crumbling confidence again.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Gabriel suddenly says. He steps up to the line, fires two perfect shots at his target, and then moves back before turning to me again. “Were those rope marks on your wrists this morning?”

Thankfully, my cheeks are already flushed from irritation at my own failures, so I don’t think Gabriel notices the added heat that creeps into them. “Uhm, yeah.”

A mix of amusement and confusion blows across his features. “What happened?”

My gaze drifts down the field towards where Eli is standing. For this class, we’ve been split up and also joined by parts of both the second year and the seniors. So that the first-years can learn from their seniors’ technique, or so our instructor said anyway. Eli is here, and Kaden is among the second-years. At least Connor, Jace, and Rico were assigned to different groups today. I’m incredibly thankful for that because I don’t think I would’ve survived if my brother, as well as all of the Hunters, had seen just how bad I am at this.

Tearing my gaze from Eli’s expert shooting on the other side of the field, I shift my attention back to Gabriel. “I was, uhm… detained.”

His sparkling blue eyes flick up and down my body in surprise.

Another wave of heat sears my cheeks, as if I still had dried cum on my thighs. But I skipped lunch today and instead ran back to my dorm room to shower and change clothes before I biked back to school again, so no evidence of how I spent last night remain on my body.

“That sounds like a story I need to hear,” Gabriel says as he lets out a light laugh.

Chuckling, I shake my head at him. “Trust me, you really don’t want to know.”

Stepping up to the line again, I raise the gun once more. I’m not even sure if I understand where I’m supposed to look in order to aim, but I hope for the best as I narrow my eyes and stare at the target. Then I pull the trigger.

The bullet shoots through the warm afternoon air and slams right into the target’s left knee. I scowl at the man-shaped paper.

Once I have flicked the safety back on and lowered the gun, Gabriel slaps my shoulder with the back of his hand and flashes me a brilliant grin. “Great shot! The target would be thoroughly incapacitated by now.”

Glancing up at him, I scratch the back of my neck and grimace. “I was aiming for his head.”

Gabriel blinks. “Oh.”

I just laugh and shrug, but even I can hear that it sounds a bit self-conscious. Clearing my throat, I let my gaze drift back to Eli instead.

I really need to figure out who tampered with Connor’s rifle. Even though my conversation with that senior by the name of Thomas O’Connell was cut short by Eli and his caveman behavior, I managed to get enough of a feel for what kind of person he is. Ambitious, lethal, and mostly without morals. But there was also a strong sense of honor about him. I don’t think he would stoop so low as to use dirty tricks on his competitors.

A sudden thought hits me like a lightning bolt.

What if the sabotage wasn’t aimed at Connor? What if Eli was the real target? What if someone tried to actually take him out with that tampered rifle, and Connor just happened to be the person that they chose to use as a patsy?

My stomach bottoms out.

If that’s the case, if Connor was just unlucky enough to be a random scapegoat, then I’ve been searching in the wrong place.

I shake my head to clear it, and then drag my attention back to Gabriel. He fires three shots at his target, two in the heart and one in the head, with a confidence that I wish I had as well.

“Do the Hunters have any enemies?” I ask.

He glances at me. Then fires one more time before stepping back again. “Well, of course. All assassin families have enemies, especially among the surviving loved ones.”

“No, I mean here. At Blackwater.”

His eyes move towards another first-year a short distance from us. I follow his gaze. The guy he is looking at has brown hair and gray eyes and a rather forgettable face.

“You know Anton, right?” Gabriel asks.

“Not really.”

“His full name is Anton Petrov. He has an older brother too. Mikhail Petrov, who is a second-year.” He runs a hand through his thick blond hair and then scratches his jaw before meeting my gaze head on again. “Their family has been trying to knock the Hunters down a few pegs for a while now.”

“I see.” A smile spreads across my lips. “Sounds like someone I should get to know then.”

Gabriel sputters protests about how getting in the middle of that conflict is a really bad idea, but I ignore him and move down the line so that I’m standing next to Anton instead.

Surprise flickers in Anton’s gray eyes as I take up position next to him, but he doesn’t comment. I can’t just walk up and ask him if he tried to have Eli shot a couple of weeks ago, so I don’t say anything at first either. I just start shooting in silence.

Gunshots echo across the vast field as we all continue practicing. Sunlight beats down on me, warming my back. There is no wind today, and the heat of summer still hasn’t broken, so a drop of sweat rolls down my spine.

I fire again. The bullet hits the wooden barrier a short distance from the target.

“You’re holding it wrong,” Anton says eventually.

Satisfaction bubbles up inside me. Perfect. Now, I have an excuse to start a conversation with him.

I let an embarrassed expression descend on my features as I turn my head to meet his gaze. “Yeah, I figured as much. The instructor tried to show me earlier, but after the third time, he looked like he was ready to put a bullet between my eyes instead, so I just nodded and told him that I understood even though I still don’t.”

Anton chuckles. “Yeah, patience isn’t exactly his strong suit.”

“To be fair, it’s not really mine either.”

He huffs out another laugh and then shoots at his target a few more times. I’m starting to think that I’ve lost the opportunity, but then he glances at me again. I can feel his gaze drifting over my body, lingering on my curves.

“You’re that girl who started three weeks after everyone else, right?” he says.

“Yes.” Shifting my gun to my left hand, I reach out with the other as I say, “Raina Smith.”

He takes my hand. “Anton Petrov.”

We shake hands, but he holds on to mine a little longer than strictly necessary. I give him a smile. He gives my palm one more squeeze and then releases me.

“Petrov,” I say, raising my eyebrows. “As in the Petrov family.”

I had never heard that name until a few minutes ago, but based on what Gabriel said, it sounds like they’re well-known. And flattery always works.

My assumptions are confirmed when a proud smile spreads across his face. “Yeah, one and the same.”

“Then I suppose we have a common enemy too.” I shoot a pointed look towards Eli.

Anton’s expression darkens as he sends a glare in that direction as well. “Yeah.” Turning back to meet my gaze, he flicks a quick look up and down my body. “I saw what he did to you in the canteen earlier. With the belt.”

I don’t even have to fake the embarrassment in my voice this time. “You saw that, huh?”

Anger brews behind his eyes. “Someone really needs to knock that family off their bloody pedestal.”

“Maybe someone is already trying. I heard that someone tried to shoot Eli a few weeks ago.”

My heart thunders as I wait for his response. Even if he was the one responsible, I doubt that he is just going to confess that to me after only a few minutes of knowing me. But maybe he will let something slip. Some kind of thread that I can keep pulling at until I replace proof that Connor is innocent.

“Yeah.” Anton huffs out a laugh. “Too bad it failed.” A scheming glint creeps into his eyes as he looks down at me. “And you’re not going to follow their lead and try it too. At least not with how terrible your aim is.” There is a smile lurking on his lips as he jerks his chin towards the targets. “Do you want me to show you how to hold it and aim properly?”

“Oh God, yes, please.”

He holsters his own gun and then raises my arms so that I’m aiming towards the target again. After adjusting my fingers, he explains what I was doing wrong with my grip and how it affects the bullet trajectory. Then he moves up behind me.

My heart lurches as he presses his muscular body against my back and then reaches around me to grab my arms again.

“Like this,” he says.

But I can barely concentrate on his instructions, because every time he speaks now, his breath dances over my neck and caresses the shell of my ear.

“Raina?” he says. “Are you listening?”

“What? Yes.”

“Then what did I say?”

“Uhm…”

He laughs, sending his warm breath dancing over my skin again. “I was saying that when you aim, you need to—”

The area around me goes unnaturally silent as Anton abruptly stops speaking.

Then a dark voice cuts through the air like a blade.

“Get. Your hands. Off her.”

I snap my gaze towards the sound of the voice, and replace Eli Hunter standing right next to us looking like the devil himself. His golden-brown eyes burn like hellfire and violence rolls off his body like dark waves.

Anton has gone stiff as a board behind me, and he slowly takes his hands from my wrists and spreads his arms wide.

That’s when I notice the gun that Eli is pressing against his temple.

My stomach flips. Jesus Christ, is he going to shoot him in the head for just showing me how to hold my gun?

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I snap as I step away from Anton and whirl around to face Eli fully.

“You do not touch her,” Eli grinds out. Still holding the gun to Anton’s head, he sweeps hard eyes across everyone around us. “No one touches her. She belongs to me.”

“I don’t belong to anyone,” I snarl.

But Eli isn’t listening to me. He just drags those rage-filled eyes of his back to Anton. “This is the only warning you get, Petrov. The next time you put your hands on her, I will put a bullet in your brain.”

Anton clenches his jaw, and anger flickers in his eyes as well, but he says nothing.

“Got it?” Eli demands.

“Yes,” he forces out.

“Then repeat it back to me.”

Fury flashes across Anton’s face, and he grits his teeth again, saying nothing.

Eli shoves the muzzle of his gun harder against Anton’s temple, forcibly making him tilt his head to the side. “Repeat it.”

“The next time I touch her, you will put a bullet in my brain,” Anton presses out with what sounds like great effort.

“Good. Now apologize.”

“Sorry.”

“Better.”

“I apologize for touching something that belongs to you.”

A mocking laugh rips from Eli’s throat. “Good boy.”

Heat pools at my core, but it’s overshadowed by the sheer amount of anger burning through me.

Every time I try to talk to someone and get information about who set Connor up, Eli shows up and ruins it. I need to figure out who really tampered with the rifle, but I can’t do that if Eli keeps acting like a possessive caveman all the time.

“I don’t belong to you, you fucking asshole,” I growl at him. “I can talk to whoever the hell I want and—”

“One more word out of your mouth, and last night will be child’s play in comparison to what I’ll do to you.” Eli cuts me a commanding stare before taking the gun from Anton’s head and using it to motion between us instead. “If you go anywhere near him again, he’ll be bleeding out on the ground. You want that on your conscience?”

I glare back at him while clenching and unclenching my jaw. Then I force out, “No.”

“No,” he repeats, and then jerks his chin. “Then leave while I still have some patience left.”

After a very short staring contest, I’m forced to accept that I have lost this round. With an irritated snarl, I spin around and stalk towards the edge of the field.

I hand in my gun, but then swipe another one on my way out. That one has a silencer on it. I don’t know how to use one of those, or if it even affects the way the gun works apart from muffling the noise, but it was the only one within reach. But it doesn’t matter. It should work for what I have in mind anyway.

With revenge burning inside me, I stalk away from the field and towards the chemistry lab.