Hunt or Be Hunted

Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Hi Everyone, I have one small disclaimer to tell you all of. There will be small bits of profanity in this chapter. I apologize if it offends anyone. 

Jasmine slowly started to pack her bag in silence. If she knew anything about Jones she would have to learn to shoot a gun and start carrying one on her person. She hated guns. Guns aren't friends, to her at least. She even knew that not everyone was what they said they are. Jones was absolutely not human. He didn't know it but he wasn't. Not all people are humans. She wasn't human. Not at all. According to true witches, wizards, mages and other magic users she was a mutt. A mix, an outcast. She was never that. She'll never be  excepted as full witch.....or mage. It's just because she was part shapeshifter. Her mother was the witch and her father was the shapeshifter. Jasmine looked at the open window then sighed to herself. She went and closed it. Then there was a knock on the door, turning around she saw Jones standing in the doorway holding a gun. Her eyes flickered from the gun to Jones face. She knew it, she knew that he would make her.

"No. I'm not carrying a fucking gun, Jones." Jasmine snapped at him.

"To bad. I'm going to teach you how to use it properly. And when to shoot in highly tense situations." Jones replied coldly.

"I don't care. I'm not using it."

"Yes, you are. Your safety is important. Not only to you and the PD but to me too. I want you to be safe Jasmine. And you need a gun for that safety sometimes. I won't always be here...."

"Jones I know you care but....you also need to be aware of what I've been through.....as an adult and a kid," Jasmine stated.

Jones sighed, "I know but I'm at least going to show you how to use it and your going to keep it on your person for now. Once we know that you're paying your father is actually dead you have to carry this gun."

Jasmine looked at him in disbelief. She never thought the one man that she could trust would make her do the one thing she never wanted to do. Ever since she was a little girl, she was taught to respect the gun but never fear it from her grandfather. Her father showed her otherwise. Her pale blue gaze shifted from Jones face to the gun in his hand and back again.  She got lost in her memories of he father. Her drunk father. Her mother standing in the kitchen shocked, and her hiding in the closet. Afraid. 

Jones cleared his throat ripping Jasmine out of her head. She looked at him and shook her head. "Fine. Leave it on the bed. ill take care of it later." She huffed. She turned back towards the closet and sighed. She felt Jones toss the gun on the bed then leave the room. She knew that there would be a whole lot of tension between the two of them. She looked on the to self of her closet for her stones and herbs. Her being only five foot five inches couldn't the top of the self but could feel around. She reached out into the place where they usually were. To her surprise, she didn't land her hand on a box. Shuffling around on the shelf half expecting to bump into a box, there wasn't. Her healing box wasn't there. "What in the actual fuck?" she hissed under her breath. Where would she have put it?