Cross Weapon Novels & Stories

Jules stopped, her hand slowly dropping from his face, and she stepped back. It was one thing to love an honest murderer and another thing to trust a secret one. “Jules—” “Don’t.” Her voice cracked. “Don’t say my name.” Pain flashed across Nolan’s face. “I always knew you were up to something,” she whispered. “But I never thought you’d go this far.” “Jules, please—” “Mr Cross,” one of the officers interrupted sharply, stepping inside with his gun raised. “Put your hands behind your back.”

No signs of someone moving like Cross used to. Then I searched for any illegal dealings in the city that matched his methods—the way he negotiated, the kinds of weapons he favored. That’s when I found something. It was a minor arms deal that took place two weeks ago, barely making a blip on the radar. Normally, I would have overlooked it. But then I saw the signature style of the transaction—a technique Cross used to cover his tracks. A technique no one else should know. My pulse pounded. Coincidence? Maybe. But what if it wasn’t?

“Don’t underestimate yourself. You are your father’s daughter, always remember that. Here, there is one weapon that I want you to practice with before you leave. Do not be intimidated, it is quite easy to use. Your father used it all the time. It was his signature weapon.” They went outside together after Simone took the weapon from her bag. It was a crossbow. Kiera had never seen one up close before. It looked intimidating, but she paid attention to all of her instructions and to her astonishment, it was easier to aim with a crossbow than with an axe. “You should have given it to me sooner,” she said, admiring it. “I would have excelled at this a long time ago. Axes are heavy.” “I knew you

LOVE IN THE CROSSFIRE Florence A.S Chapter 019: McCarthy v Rodrigo. Spencer was so shocked to find out that Bruno had been working with Mr Rodrigo feeding him information about his business and personal life. Spencer grabbed the gun and aimed at Bruno's head, Bruno begged for mercy and pleaded for his life shaking as the gun was facing in between his eyebrows, sweat dripping from his face, and a cool shiver down his spine. “what have I gotten myself into?” Bruno thought to himself.

The company was accused of plagiarism and infringement. Dana was not planning to stay idle throughout her stay in California so she decided to research about the CRUZ company. It was created by the Cruz couple and when Manuel died, Henry took over as the CEO. Dana had to confess that she had been hearing of the CRUZ company in the past years during her stay in Italy. Their works were distributed worldwide and sold in many different countries. Their designs were superb and so were the paintings which were made by their first son.

I paused and was quiet for a minute. I took a deep breath and shook my head to get rid of a traumatic memory, “Sorry about that. Anyway, I want to give the guard a custom watch for being good at his job. The band will be a bunch of Saint George’s crosses, connected at the top and bottom. I am going to engrave a warrior’s prayer for protection on the cross.”

Gorius and the other women around me are puzzled for my request. "I'm the only one here who isn't a werewolf. I'm human—" and part Phoenix, for my advantage, "I can defeat them." I raise a claim. Gorius turns to one of his attendants and they seem to have a grip on my crossbow. They fetch my equipment in no time. The bike inside the garage holds a few very hundred of the needle like crossbow shoots. Highly effective. But they're silver alloy and will put a dent on one's wallet. The crossbow and the needles are dropped to the ground for me as the metal clinking sounds satisfy my ears.

It looked like a horizon waiting to be reached. She whispered to herself, barely audible over the hum of the engine. “I’m really a Cross.” And as strange as it sounded, the words fit.

Blowing a stray curl out of her face, she crossed her arms and looked at herself in the mirror. Honestly, she had tried her darnedest to remain nondescript, and nothing that she saw in the reflection called particular attention to her. Her hair was dark and curly but easy to manage and the bun she’d barely twisted up didn’t yell, ‘Hey, I’m cute!’ The baggy jersey was a vintage acquisition from Daddy Daley and hung on her the same way a car cover draped over a bicycle, pretty much covering her jeans. Her boots were a little on the expensive side, but she didn’t think it was a point of focus. Neither was the diamond pendant hidden underneath the jersey.

Something dangerous. Something that could destroy them all.