Page 41 of Death is Familiar

“Shall I show you how it’s done?” Carmen stopped flicking the knife and grabbed hold of the handle.

“Please, do.” It was better to go second. That way I could know what I was dealing with. And all I needed to do was better.

Carmen stepped to the blood red line drawn across the floor, and took aim. She radiated confidence. But as she prepared to throw, she kept a firm grip on the handle, rather than the blade. Interesting.

Thunk!

Though her form was lacking, she still managed to lodge the knife in the target’s shoulder. Five points.

The throw was better than I would have liked.

Carmen spun with another swish of her hair, content with herself. “Think you can do better?”

I cocked my head, rolling my palm over the hilt, as I stepped to the line. I flipped the knife over and pinched the blade between my thumb and forefinger. It was an unsettling how natural the movement felt, despite everything wrong with the knife.

“You really shouldn’t hold it like that.” Carmen swallowed the rest of her martini, before handing the glass back to Xander. “That handle is there for a reason, darling.”

And with that, I tuned her, and everything else around me, out. My first throw might be shaky. I had to be okay with that. I would be okay with that, so long as I learned from my mistakes.

Then in a movement as natural as breathing, I flung the knife.

Thunk!

The knife lodged next to Carmen’s.

Unluckily for me, it was a fraction of an inch higher, gracing the white outside of the silhouette, which meant Carmen had won the first round. And I was down to four questions.

As the tall woman returned with our knives, it was hard to miss the disbelief from Carmen and Xander. My knife throwing had been far better than either of them expected.

Carmen sized me up as she grabbed her knife from the platter, and stepped back up to the line.

Thunk!

Seven points.

I didn’t give myself time to over think before I threw.

Thunk!

My knife was wedged halfway between six and seven. Damn. Carmen’s throw was still better. If only just.

And I was down to three questions.

That’s it. I refused to open up my awareness, I clamped down, and narrowed my focus. It didn’t matter what people thought of me. It didn’t matter that I was wearing unreasonably high heels and next to nothing. Everything else floated out of existence. It was just me, my questions, and the god-awful knife.

Thunk!

Seven points scored by Carmen.

Thunk!

Eight. Ha! My shot was better. Much better.

It also meant I won my first question, and I dove in without hesitation or courtesy. “Do the names Mercy, Dorian, Celeste, Kian, and Zayd, sound familiar?”

“I’m going to ignore the familiar pun.”

“So, you do know them?”