The Virus Within: The Road Ahead (Book 1 - SERIES COMPLETED!)

Chapter 48

Nicky once more brought me a dinner plate, which was more for appearance's sake than anything else. I nibbled on an apple slice, but Nicky ate almost everything else she'd put on it. She hadn't brought Liz with her, so she must have also realized my fiery temper was hidden just beneath a layer of thin ice.

Using napkins like gloves, she once more took my plate and stacked it on top of hers as she prepared to take them back. "So, what are our plans for the evening? By the time I finished last night, my aim was good enough that Ben was scared, although his reaction might have just been from seeing the bow in my hands. He didn't know I had been practicing."

Whatever I did tonight, the main requirement was that it couldn't involve being around people, or someone was bound to get snarled at. Each overly-examining glance or hushed whisper was just another piece of kindling for my fiery temper. It had also been a long time since I had any decent exercise or had been able to work off my frustrations. All in all, it was a bad combination that was building up into something I probably didn't want to be responsible for.

"I need a break from archery tonight. I thought I heard someone talking about a place where we could practice throwing knives?"

Nicky nodded and pointed with her thumb over her shoulder. "Yeah, it's in the back of the second garage. Two lanes. I doubt anyone goes there after dinner since they use the targets behind the hotel if it's not raining."

Solitude and getting to try knife throwing? "I think I'll have to give it a try."

"Well, if you're throwing knives, then I'm keeping out of your way. I'll go torment that bow again. One of these days, it's going to throw in the towel and quit fighting me."

I shook my head at the odds of that happening. We descended the stairs and parted ways as I headed over to the specified building. The silence proved Nicky was correct – no one was here. The windows let in plenty of light, illuminating two empty vehicle stalls, the tidy workbenches along the sides, and the open throwing area along the back wall.

I walked over and eyed up the ten knives that were carefully arranged on a tray. Reaching across the workbench, I pulled the tray closer, noting that each of the blades was a different size and shape. Picking up the smallest one, I tested its weight and balance before throwing it.

I frowned as the hilt hit the target and clattered across the cardboard that lined the floor for that exact reason. In the past, I had tried throwing knives a few times, and I had sucked at it back then. It looked like the trend was going to continue to hold true. I picked up the next knife and stubbornly kept trying.

Dozens of tries later, yet another knife clattered to the cardboard, echoed by my slow, controlled exhalation of annoyance. My Nightstalker instincts were apparently of no use when I was throwing a knife.

I had thrown each of the ten knives several times, although only six throws had been good enough to lodge the blade in the Styrofoam target. The knives hit the center of the target without fail, but I just couldn't seem to get the tip of the blade to hit at the precise angle required.

I threw the last knife in my hand. It hit sideways and ricocheted at an angle, hitting the wall beside the target, before finally dropping to the ground. I growled in frustration and went to collect them again. How did Nicky manage several nights of archery practice with her terrible aim when I was frustrated after half an hour of throwing knives?

I heard familiar footsteps but didn't bother turning around as I collected the various knives from the floor. Only one had actually stuck in the target. I rolled my shoulders as Daniel's scent reached me. I picked up the last knife and turned around to walk back to the throwing line.