Blades Urban Dictionary Novels & Stories

“But I wouldn’t mind having more. If you could teach me? You had three knives on you last night. I suspect you know how to use them. I mean, you’re nicknamed The Blade.” “I know how to use them. I know how to use them well. Contrary to what my mother believes, slicing a man’s throat is a better use of a blade than cutting a beautiful wedding gown.” We were now in city traffic. The scenic green views of the Ozarks were replaced by tall buildings and busy sidewalks. It was my first time in the city, and I was surprised how big it actually was. It wasn’t like Los Angeles, but it wasn’t a small town.

Shame this was evening happening to me. Unfortunatly, Damon moved to stand beside Ethan. “These are Twisted Blade push daggers. A tri-edge blade that spirals. Also known as a cyclone blade. They insure maximum damage with little effort. When used correctly, it will increase our killing effectiveness by 10%. Your opposite will bleed out before their wolf will be able to heal them.”

Blade looked up, and I could tell that he was clearly amused by my reaction. “May your reign be long,” he added smoothly. More heat rushed to my face. Reign?! I glanced at Damien, and began to silently beg him for help with my eyes. All else I would be too red to even walk into the b all. Finally, he smiled and gave Blade a sharp look, “That’s enough.” Blade raised his hands slightly in surrender, though the grin on his face never faltered for a second. “I was just being respectful,” he said, still smiling brightly.

“So let’s fucking do this!” Blade stumbled back. “I did but fighting won’t—” Breed slugged him right in the stomach cutting off his words and his air. Stumbling back, Blade landed on the ground in a puff of Tennessee dust. Breed stood over him. “Man… I want you to fight me! Not lay down like a fucking pussy!” Blade stared up at him. “If I give you this fight…” He took a deep, shuddering breath as he stood back up. “Then will you talk with me?”

he muttered, not daring to share his attention with the cloud separated from us through the windshield. "We have to do something that would destroy it forever," I muttered and Liam groaned in anger. "You are distracting me!" He snapped. I reached into my purse and pulled out the blade again, holding it tightly. Liam finally looked at me, his brows raised in surprise. "That blade…" "It kills demons," I said and he smiled in relief. I unsheathed the blade, waiting for it to sneak in. The drums began to play again, faster and stronger. The louder the drums got, the light-headed we became.

"I thought you were going to tell me more about your little project! Come on, keep talking!" "I am going to peel the skin from your face for that." His voice dropped into a dangerous, vibrating register that made the air itself seem to tremble. He swiped his left hand through the air, and three sharp, purple psychic blades materialized, launching straight at my chest with deadly precision.

Jones suggested while stuttering and unable to look straight in her eyes. Blades' eyes bulge out of their sockets. "What? "Are you insane?" "N-no, but w-we don't have any choices now." Blade rushed to Jones and held him in the collar. The other member tried to stop her. "The fuck are you spouting? Do you want me to rip off that mouth of yours? "

I took off again just as four blades converged on the spot, slicing clean through the metal platform. I pushed myself harder, leaping through the whirring blades and crashing onto the final platform. Yet, just when I thought all is well, the blades spun faster, doubling in sizes, their sharp edges glinting in the torchlight. Worst part was that, they were lined up in the tight pathway, as if they're some obedient pupils, dangerously approaching me, "Guys, I'm not your teacher..."

He was the wealthy, arrogant playboy girls would swoon around, and also the Blade family's eldest son. "Ezekiel?” A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Ezekiel Blade,” he said. "Why are you without your glasses, freckle face?” He always mentioned his last name like he was nothing without it. But I knew that he loved the name so much as it meant people would fear him. I rolled my eyes, pulling my hand away from his grip. “Still a bully, huh? Besides, I don't wear glasses anymore, and I'm definitely not freckle face. It's Lydia Winters,” I said, mimicking his words.