Demonic Blades Novels & Stories

If a war was knocking on our door then I needed the blade. And I would talk to anyone, even my dead father, if it meant getting it. I held the replica of the blade in my hands as I watched my friend leave my office. Most likely to bring the girl. The plastic was polished enough to deceive anyone that I was holding the real thing. Till it was held and the weight would give it away. She ought to be done with her lessons at this hour. Her request to study elsewhere resonated in my head and I made a mental note to approve of it only if she was able to get me what I wanted.

Pain flared white-hot as blood spilled down my palms, slick and warm, but I didn’t let go. I forced the blades inward and drove them against her chest. My twin’s smile faltered. Cracks spidered across her face like shattered porcelain. Her eyes turned black, hollow, and then her form splintered, crumbling into dust that scattered into the air. In the same breath, I wrenched the blade free, spun, and lunged. I drove it straight through Pelin’s twin. The illusion screamed once before collapsing into nothing. I caught Pelin falling hard in to my arms as her demon mark flared Inside her chest.

Uriel said in his thoughts as he immediately flew to his chamber. He opens the book of light and darkness and flips over to a page where he sees a picture of a blade and he begins to read. “When a demon's blood mixes with an angel's blood it can create what they call the blade of Angels. With this blade the person wielding it can kill off any light supernaturals with just a single slash. None has been able to create such a blade but if the blade falls into the wrong hands it can be very dangerous for all light supernaturals.”

Grey said, his hand secure around the grip of the blade even though it was holstered. "It's an illusion. The demon Deception's signature. Give me the dagger!" "Show me what is hidden!" The knife went into the the alter, the infecting the glass with webbed cracks down the sides. Darkness spread from the point of the blade unraveling the illusion of a church to a dark room walled with symbols drawn in blood, coal and glowing white chalk. The alter, now a feeble table of bones holding steady under a book binded in red leather and a clay bowl with etchings dominating its surfaces in and out.

The dagger must have been something special because the demon disintegrated into sparks which faded away. “Yes!” I whisper yell my victory. If I can help him even a little bit, one demon at a time. That would work. After a couple of demons, I had gotten hang of it. I could tell later that I was embuing magic in the blade I was working with. The blade was absorbing my magic and then it used it to kill the demons I was stabbing. I don’t know how much time passed but at one point, Shedim and I were back to back.

The demonic blade pierced his bones and almost cut off half of his head. The Second Demon Lord screamed miserably. He had almost cut his brain into pieces. The pain went deep into his divine soul, making him tremble. The demonic blade was one meter long. It cut horizontally into his forehead and stuck in his bones. Blood dripped down the tip of the blade, forming a line of blood. The Second Demon Lord looked as if wearing a large cap. "Why do they do this? Do the Fiends all like to torture themselves? It's too cruel. It scared me to death," Flaming Qilin muttered.

The presence of this man was Camelot itself! Asherah was not perturbed by the strong energy that assaulted her senses, neither was she daunted by the power of the two holy blades. Durandal the Demon Slaying Sword, and Caliburn the Monarch’s Right Hand; these two blades were indeed frightful existences, but so was she.

Her hands went around his neck, but the Lycan king managed to release her grip and turned her to face him. “Smart,” Demetrius said to Annabelle, who shrugged at him. They circled each other once more, and Annabelle revealed her surprise - a pair of twin blades. “Surprise,” she said, her expression tense. Demetrius shook his head. “You don't fight fairly, I see.” “The fight is not about being fair,” she replied as she charged at him again.

He was always so pleased by her speed and ruthlessness in dispatching his elder children, that he doted on her during class. She was unrivaled in hand-to-hand, quicker and more sure-footed than her siblings. She was deadly with small blades as well, and kept one tucked in her boot at all times, just in case any of Killian's cronies took the young Lord at his word and tried to have her quietly dispatched. Not that she ever represented a true threat to either Killian or Reena, she was just as much her mother's daughter as her father's, and it was likely she would be a prey shifter rather than a predator.

The Phantom Blade was too light for something designed to end a life. It sat in Damian’s palm, a sliver of polished titanium that seemed to pull the nursery’s amber light into its edge. Damian didn’t look like a man whose estate was currently being dismantled by orbital strikes. He looked like a man who had finally solved a tedious riddle. He rotated the needle between his thumb and forefinger, his movements slow, deliberate, and terrifyingly steady. "The lion’s head engraving," he murmured.