Blade Runner Pawn Novels & Stories

Haris was taken aback when he saw Adrian's attack. He had a deep impression of the Inferno Purgatory. It was this move that told him that Adrian’s weapons were top-notch treasures. As someone from Blade's Reach, Haris had been around weapons since childhood, particularly swords. Adrian's Divine Frost Slayer Blade was the most enigmatic weapon he had ever encountered. It seemed to possess a consciousness of its own, making it extraordinarily mysterious. As for the Hellblade, he deduced from his clashes with Adrian that it was an exceptionally rare and valuable weapon.

The child's heartbeat is still tuned to Damian's frequency—I can feel the ghost of his pulse in the bond between us, a biological chain I cannot reason with. I reach into the bedpost and pull the Phantom Blade free. The titanium hums at my touch, the silver light leaping onto the metal like a tongue of flame that recognizes its source. He wants a weapon. I look at the sealed door and feel the cold, quiet certainty that has been building since I found the photograph. I'll be one. But I won't be pointed where he expects.

“It was only a mistaken transaction. And now, the transaction is over.” I held out the pen to him. His hand trembled, unwilling to take it. “Those… Stellar Dawn matters—was it you?” His eyes locked on mine, desperate for one last confirmation. I smiled faintly, neither admitting nor denying. “Mr. Caldwell, what matters is this: from now on, the Caldwells won’t have only one opponent named Stellar Dawn. Consider that your warning.” The words landed like a death knell, tacitly confirming everything. All color drained from his face. He staggered, unable to bear the weight of that truth. Finally, he understood what he had truly lost.

Bram barreled down the stairs, gun raised, eyes flashing with alarm. He took in the scene in a heartbeat—the corpse, the pen, the blood streaking down the stone. His gaze snapped to Liora, wild with questions. “What the hell—” “He was waiting,” she said, voice raw, clipped. “He followed me up.” Bram’s jaw flexed as he lowered his weapon. He scanned the man’s coat, boots, the insignia barely visible on the inside lining. His curse was sharp. “Arbiters. Contract blade.”

Several burly men in black rushed in at once. I grabbed a desk lamp and held it in front of me like a shield. My hands were trembling. "Stay back! Sabrina went to get the money. She'll pay off the debt soon!" The leader of the men in black, Jasper Lane, spat on the floor with open contempt. "Don't feed me that trash. I fell for your stunt last night. I thought holding you here would force them to bring the cash. However, that wench took off with her boyfriend!"

He placed a soft kiss on my forehead. “Are you sure you want to go home and pick up some stuff?” “I won’t have any clothes if not.” “I can take you shopping in the morning to get anything you need.” “What about to sleep in tonight?” “I can lend you a shirt,” his wicked smile was back. “Oh really, What’s with the wicked smile Mr. Thorn?” “Just imagining you in one of my shirts.” “Ok. Take me to yours.” “Are you sure?” “Yes. The longer I let the dust settle the better to be honest.”

“Look at those dark circles. You’ve lost so much weight.” I shrugged. “Did they really do that to you?” Her eyes became glossy. She was about to speak again when her attention drifted to Ronan beside me. She gasped. “I’ll introduce you both. This is Ronan Throne, my-my brother-in-law. Next to him is Abraham, his assiatant.” I gestured to them. “This is Nova, my best friend and assistant." She stretched her hand for a handshake, her legs slowly bouncing. “Nice to meet you Mr Throne. I’m a fan.”

“I–fuck, I don’t know how to even begin to answer that–” “Soren, that’s enough,” Blake says from the archway then turns to Ryatt, Evander within sight in the room behind them. “Soren and I have been working together for the past five years, moving Hannibal’s marks into hiding and killing anyone working with him against the Allied Kingdoms.” Kenna gasps, whirling, but Ryatt just… stares at him. “Soren is what the media calls the Blade. He was the Spider’s assassin, but I turned him to our side. We have Hannibal exactly where we need him now. It’s time to act.”

“This is Intuin Desparen, the Heart Blade.” The blade’s hilt was simple, but the blade gleamed with otherworldly light, and as he laid it across the palms of his hands, I could see writing imbued upon its length. “What it does,” Rivyn said, his voice quiet and reverent, although it carried throughout the chamber, “you will discover in time, princess, but I will tell you this: it’s powers will only work for you, or one of your direct line.”

His breath was warm against my ear when he leaned in and whispered, “You have until tomorrow, Lexi. After that, the offer is off the table.” And just like that, he turned and walked out of the room, leaving me standing there, breathless, confused, and more than a little terrified. I could barely process what had just happened. Julian Blackwood had just walked into my life, offered me salvation, in exchange for my freedom. I know men like Julian Blackwood, Everyone is a pawn in their game. But I can’t be his.