Avenger Weapon Novels & Stories

Three figures in black tactical gear dropping through the frame in a controlled breach. Night-vision goggles. Silver-edged blades. Crossbows loaded with bolts that gleamed with something worse than silver. Valtherion Ashvane met the first one mid-air. Even without his Alpha abilities, Valtherion was two hundred, twenty pounds of combat training, controlled fury. He caught the Purifier's crossbow arm, twisted, dislocated the shoulder with a wet crack, and hurled the man into the second attacker. But the third one was already past him. Coming for me.

She tried to run back with her children but something swiftly ran towards them. It was a human and a female one. She was putting on all black and her face was masked. Luca halted on his tracks. The lady's aura was just double of his. She was seething within. She flipped out a long stick from no where and swung it on the she-wolf. The girl winced and fell to her knees. Luca knew the girl was trouble. His dad had warned him about meeting Raven. In fact who was this Raven? Luca advanced towards her and tried to aim at her with his pistol. He had just his pistol and if that does not do the job of protection, he would use his second option of trying to deceitfully attack from behind.

“…we will lose everything.” She turned sharply to the Keeper of Records. “Prepare the Obsidian Weapon.” Gasps broke across the chamber. Thale’s knees buckled. “High Mother, NO. The Weapon has not been used in centuries. It was forbidden by the First Circle.” “THE FIRST CIRCLE IS DEAD.” The hall seemed to shrink around them. Another Keeper stammered, “That weapon was designed to strip a Keeper of her lines by force.” “Yes.” Velyn smiled thinly. “Avi will learn she is not untouchable.”

She'd learned the layout of the main floor, identified security patterns, begun to understand the household dynamics. And she'd seen him. Alpha Kael Stormridge, in the flesh. Marcus's killer. Sera pulled out her phone and scrolled to the photos she'd saved-pictures of Marcus, smiling and alive. The evidence of his murder. The anonymous note that had started everything. She needed to remember. Needed to keep the hatred sharp and clear. But when she tried to summon rage, tried to feel that burning need for vengeance... Nothing. Just exhaustion and emptiness. Her wolf was silent. Her heart was numb. She was a weapon, yes, but weapons didn't feel. They just cut.

"What a speech. Not good enough." He glanced to this army behind him. "Destroy the filthy animals. Leave no one alive." With a collective roar, The vampires came charging. The king raised his hand. We waited until they reached within distance. I held the sword in my arm. The weapon laced with oak ash from Christine. Quinn held my arm. As soon as the vampires reached us, the werepanther king put his hand down. "Now!" Theo bellowed. We charged forward.

“There’s something I told Beta Cian to bring from the weapons room for you Ava, you’re going to need it when we return to the dawn house.” “What is it?” Ava looked up as she took the box that Nani handed to her, opening it to answer her question; the box held a small silver dagger with a very sharp end, removing the dagger from the box, Ava admired the beautiful weapon in her hand, whilst being careful enough not to cut herself with it. “It’s an ancient weapon, an immortal blade carved by one of the greatest swordsmiths in history with the help of a sorcerer, it still glows and cuts well despite its age. I’m sure you’ll find good use for it once you go up against Sabrina.”

With a heavy, mechanical clunk, the back of the oven rotated, revealing a vertical rack of blackened steel. ​Assault rifles. Flash-bangs. Ceramic plating. And my favorite—the long-range suppressed "Widow-Maker" sniper rifle that had been my signature during the Paris Purge. ​I stripped the silk robe, standing naked for a fraction of a second in the red light before pulling on a charcoal-gray tactical bodysuit. I cinched the belt, checked the mags, and felt the familiar weight of the "Huntress" settling over my shoulders like a shroud. The baker was dead. Long live the Queen.

It was beautiful, terrifying, and absolute. ​I gripped the hilt of my vibro blade, my knuckles turning white beneath my leather gloves. It was an involuntary reaction, a reflex born of three hundred years of survival, but I knew the weapon at my side was nothing more than a toy compared to the power hovering above us. ​“Hold your fire,” I ordered, my voice broadcasting through the Vanguard comms network. “Nobody moves until I say so. Keep your weapons lowered. We do not provoke.” ​The Vanguard formed a wide perimeter around the massive clearing at the edge of the Scrapyard. Ignis had her soldiers ready with their thermal spears glowing a dull, angry red.

Eva was utterly astounded at how easily ze haggled the price down. It was certainly something she could never do. Once the open purchase sheet was closed, Eva owned the equipment. Or at least, one of her identities did. — Fireborn Defense Systems “Jaguar” AntiRiot Defense Suit [B] Ballistics Inc. “Aequitas” Heavy Magnum Sidearm [B] Grevatia Armory “Solstice” Folding Buckler [B] Myrmidon Technology “Starpiercer” Liquid Javelin [A] Outland Supplies Survival Knife [C]

The heavy silence in the decontamination airlock was shattered only by the relentless hum of the Acheron's atmospheric scrubbers. The Vanguard Commander stood perfectly still, a monolithic figure in vantablack armor, analyzing the raw desperation radiating from Dante and Elara. His polarized visor reflected their battered forms: Dante, bruised and defiant, wielding a crude titanium wrench like a broadsword; and Elara, shivering yet resolute, her thumb resting millimeters from the data drive’s biometric kill-switch. The four mercenaries flanking the Commander kept their suppressed submachine guns leveled, the crimson laser sights forming a constellation of lethal intent across Dante’s chest.