Blade Daywalker Weapons Novels & Stories

My eyes then drifted to the small black box beside the bag. I already knew what was inside, but I opened it anyway, my fingers brushing over the familiar cool metal. My gun. My baby Glock 42. Lifting it, I pressed a quick kiss to the side of the gun before expertly assembling it onto the holster on my thigh. "I think I need to request a dagger too," I mused, admiring my reflection in the mirror. A gun was great, but a blade? Even better. If there was one thing I had learned, things were never calm for too long in Dax’s world. And I needed to be ready for whatever came next.

One of the warriors spoke up, “Gamma Rory, I saw our Luna. She is bad ass. The mess she left behind took a long time to clean up.” Right. Some of the folks here saw the fight. I’m surprised they are not scared of me. Maybe because they are wolves or warriors. Who knows. I don’t want anyone to be afraid of me anyway. “I need a minute to set up.” I said as I dropped my bag on the bench. I opened the duffel and grabbed the thigh holsters and strapped them in. Then I grabbed some of the hand throwing knives and secured them in place before grabbing my scabbard. From there, the only knife different from my kabar knives is the bowie. It’s longer at sixteen inches. Then I grabbed my sheath for my w

Garrick answered they were elves, they carried light weapons, like daggers and arrows. The blacksmith nodded and reluctantly took his eyes off Madeline to go get the weapons. He came out with a range of daggers, arrows and bows, and a black colored swords. The arrows and bows was for Iliana, while the dagger was for Broderick, Fredrick, and Meara. The sword was for him, as for Madeline he remembered her having a scythe, so he did not bother asking her if she wanted a weapon. The daggers were smooth and sharp, it was cold and carried a lethal aura.

A silver-trimmed cloak billowed behind her, offering an ethereal aura as she moved. Lana's eyes flickered over the arsenal of weapons laid out before her, each one meticulously chosen to aid her in the upcoming battle. A silver sword, its blade shimmering in the dim light, rested in a sheath at her side. Its hilt was adorned with intricate carvings depicting wolves in a fierce chase, symbolizing both her strength and her connection to her pack.

The first step to keep yourself from crushing on a god, was to not picture said God half naked. Just to spite me, my mind did it anyway. Blakely Yarrow, spokesperson for self-control. One of the knives he carried slapped against his thigh as he walked. From what I could tell, he had three on him. It was those weapons, and the bag of stardust he had in his pocket, which kept me from being too worried about today’s excursion. Catching my lingering stare, Azrael plucked the large blade from its holster. His fingers moved deftly as they twirled the gilded weapon. I had to forcefully keep my jaw from dropping when he handed it to me, hilt side up.

Cece rolls her eyes at me. We head back to my room and I take a quick shower before packing up my things to travel. Sliding the pistols into the holsters I can’t help but smile. People wonder why I carry so many weapons when I have a wolf. There are many supernatural creatures out there, and they all have their weaknesses. My blades are pure iron which can severely wound and if done properly kill a vampire if they are sliced with one. The bullets are laced with wolfsbane, a dangerous chemical to wolves. There are small throwing knives each coated with elderflower, a toxic substance to Sirens, Gorgons and Witches lined up along my belt. Those are just some of the beings out there in the world

‘Let’s get this over with,’ He said. I held my left palm up. On my wrist where a symbol had been inked. I placed my other hand over it and a soft glow appeared in it and it materialized into a special weapon. The devil's blade. It belonged to the Nightshade bloodline and was a gift from Daemon. Zayden's eyes shimmered as he caught sight of the blade. “Interesting. This would be fun,” His eyes gleamed a malevolent red, his demon seething just beneath the surface.

followed by the deep, rhythmic footprint of a man who thought he was safe in his own fortress. I reached for my Beretta out of habit, but the practical, asshole part of my brain reminded me that the recoil of a .45 would probably collapse my lung for good this time, so I shoved the gun back and pulled the combat blade from my belt instead. I stepped out of the shadows just as the guard turned the corner, and for a split second, the kid's eyes went wide as he realized the Reaper was currently standing in his basement looking like a ghost that had been chewed up by a lawnmower.

Lyra whispered urgently. "They aren't just drones," Valerius whispered, his violet eyes glowing with a terrifying clarity. "I can smell them. The Black-Sun Assassins. They’ve bypassed your static. They're already in the basement." At that exact moment, the reinforced doors at the end of the corridor twisted violently then exploded inward. Three figures stepped through the flames. Each assassin held a weapon. Dusk-Blades—weapons designed to sever the connection between a shifter and their primordial form.

The soil around him lay smooth, showing no signs of a struggle and no stray tracks. The blade was still in his chest. I recognized the hilt before I crouched beside him. Dark leather wrapped twice near the guard, a narrow line of silver set into the pommel. I had seen that knife once before, drawn in a room where no one needed to raise their voice to make a threat understood. Lucien did not leave weapons behind by mistake. The body had been left in plain view. It lay where anyone walking the river path would see it. The same path Nyxara took when she wanted distance from the yard.