Blade Daywalker Weapons Novels & Stories

BLADE 2. He forced his tongue into my mouth and pinned my two hands roughly on the bed. He doesn't allow me move. I wiggled my body but he ended up hitting my boobs with his palm. The pain sent the wrong sensation down my pussy. It throbbed shamelessly. He stopped kissing me and before I knew it, I landed a slap on his cheek which I regret doing. His demeanor changed instantly. I presume it didn't sit well with him.

Blight, Ryker’s Gamma, steps forward with a grin on his face. He’s dressed in all black like me, with blackout tattoos covering his neck and arms. Short cropped blonde hair, grey eyes, tall but muscular; I’ve heard tales about this Gamma that rival my own. He has a penchant for killing humans in the most gruesome ways, and his favorite weapon is a JagdKommando knife; the deadliest of blades as it has three edges that spiral together like a corkscrew into a sharp tip. No doctor can sew up a wound left by this knife.

So, what are you going to do about him? Before I took off from the packhouse, I made sure to put the weapon I had in my pocket. It’s a blade that’s in its leather sheath. The leather is lined with metal at the bottom to protect me further. It’s a silver blade that’s been dipped in wolfsbane. I don’t want to talk about how I came across it; it’s just something I had in case I needed it. The funny thing is that I don’t think I was strong enough to use it then. Are you strong enough now?

Xavier nodded at him and took those knives. Dylan started to run and kill with two knives in his two hands, he was running forward and killing wolves with both of his hands. Those knives were silver knives, Skylar gave those to his four officials if they could not fight long because of tiredness. But she didn't give one to Dylan because Dylan was the True Blood. Dylan never thought that one day he would need those too.

Something flickered in his eyes—not just surprise, but intrigue. "Most she-wolves would be collapsed in tears after such an ordeal," he observed. "Yet here you stand, calmly discussing rescue plans." I reached into my torn sleeve and withdrew the dual-purpose dagger I'd found among the cult's weapons. "Look at this," I said. "Do you recognize the design?" Daniel took the weapon, examining it carefully. The dual-headed blade gleamed in the moonlight—one end sharp for cutting, the other a pointed spike for piercing. "Unusual craftsmanship," he murmured. "Not common in the Northern Territory."

Mina damn near tripped over Lynn backing away. As Trixie started pulling out blades, brass knuckles, and throwing stars. “Is that c4? How the fuck did she get c4?” I heard Montego’s brother Gavin asked. As Trixie put a brick on the table along with two Hatchets and a…”Is that a flail? Who the fuck still owns a flail?” A warrior asked with a chuckle. Trixie stopped her search and looked at him. “That Flail can take someone’s head off with one swing, those are great for quick kills.” Trixie said as she continue to dig through her Backpack. “YAY I FOUND IT!” Trixie yelled as she pulled out a handgun pointing it at Dilara’s head and pulled the fucking trigger. That’s when all hell broke loose,

It was Blake, and now he’d brought along even more of his warriors than before. They were spread out along the pack border, and every one of them was armed with lots of weapons, some of which I didn’t even recognize. I could see swords, guns, crossbows, rifles, and sharp knives that glinted in the morning light. They looked like they weren’t just here to scare anyone. They looked like they were here to kill and wreak havoc. Blake was standing in front of all of them. The expression on his face was calm in a way that made my skin crawl.

I lifted it out with careful hands and opened the latch. There it was. A sleek silver pistol with a pearl handle, nestled in custom-fitted foam. Below it were six bullets that gleamed with an odd, blue tint. Wolfsbane. Enough to kill six werewolves, or one werewolf six times over. I stared at the weapon that could end Darragh's life, that could destroy everything I cared about. In Ciara's vision, this gun was the difference between my best friend living and dying. Between having a future and losing everything.

Watching his flanks collapse, his squad get picked apart, with the calm patience of a man who'd already factored in these losses. Because I was exactly where he wanted me. "There you are," he said. He was tall in person. Taller than Valtherion. Lean, angular, with the economy of movement that spoke of decades of combat. Gray at the temples. Pale eyes that reflected the moonlight like mirrors. A long silver blade in each hand, not ornamental. Working weapons. The edges hummed with something that made my shadow bloodline recoil. Anti-bloodline steel. Forged specifically to cut through ancient power.

“You’d be surprised what you can do when you know the game you’re playing.” He unzipped the bag, revealing an arsenal of weapons. Knives, guns, ammunition, and even a few ancient-looking weapons lay nestled together, gleaming faintly in the dim light. My hand hovered over the collection, hesitating before I picked up a weapon that caught my eye, a dagger with a blade that shimmered unnaturally, almost as if it were alive. “Who’s the bloodthirsty one now?” Axel muttered, eyeing the dagger with a mix of curiosity and amusement.