Compass And Blade Novels & Stories

No witnesses. Vesper went rigid. I felt her gaze snap toward me, sharp with shock and worry. I said nothing. My hand moved to the compartment between our seats and pulled out the tactical blade. The steel was matte black, the handle ridged with smooth, ergonomic grooves designed for a perfect grip. She blanched. The color drained from her face in the dim dashboard glow, her gaze snapping to the weapon. “What are you going to do? Why are you stopping?” I leaned over, my hand returning to her thighs. She pressed her legs together, her muscles tight with resistance, a pathetic, instinctive barricade.

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.