ChaPter 2 - Carnival of Souls by Melissa Marr

Carnival of souls
lessons to photography, not the other way around. Daimons
weren’t scared away by a 35mm camera. A steady aim with a
9mm pistol, on the other hand, could—hopefully—save her
life someday. No matter how ready she felt, fear crept over her
every time she thought about facing daimons.
“Again,” Adam prompted. “You need to focus. By the time
you realize what they are, you’ll need to act fast. They look like
us . . . and like you.”
The pause was slight, but she heard it. Us and you. Her
mother wasn’t a witch, and Adam wasn’t her bio-dad, so she
wasn’t an us. She also wasn’t really able to be a them. She might
be human, but Adam was a witch. That meant she was caught
living among the witches, preparing to fight daimons with
only a human’s defenses. Sometimes, guiltily, she admitted to
herself that this wasn’t the life she wanted. A stray thought of
Kaleb flitted through her mind, but she knew without asking
her father that he’d never agree to her changing her training or
workout schedules so she had time to date.
Steadily, she sighted, fired, and moved to the next target.
Then once she reached the end of the row, she worked her way
back. Mallory hated the ease with which the semiautomatic
discharged bullets. It felt like everything went too quickly, but
if the paper targets in front of her were daimons, she knew
she’d appreciate that extra speed.
Adam began calling numbers. “Target three, eight, two,
one, eight, six.”
As he called them, she aimed and fired. It was an exercise
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