Johnny Silver Hand Novels & Stories

People kept on trooping in and out to grab a drink or two. "Is that Silver?" Sliver turned her head in the direction she heard her name and saw Jeff at the door. One of his hands was crossed over the shoulders of a girl who seemed slightly drunk. His hand was almost close to touching her breasts. Silver was boiling with anger inside. She wished that he would hold her for once or at least have a conversation with her. Her eyes widened a bit when she saw him ditch the girl and walked towards her. The girl stomped her foot angrily and left.

They both looked down at me. “Are you okay?” she asked worriedly. I continue looking at the sky. “Just one punch and I am losing my footing; I thought I was getting good at it,” I said, holding my tears. “Trust me, you are; you land a punch on my face, and you are also very swift. Silver is a jerk for telling you my weakness, but in as much as my left hand is my weakness, it is also my weapon; if you hit it, my right will come at you, and that punch won’t be pretty. Bet he didn’t tell you that,” she said, looking at Silver. I sighed.

“And I would send them again if necessary. But I’m here for another reason.” “I don’t care about your reason. Get out of my dressing room.” “You’re brave. I like that.” He extended his hand and touched my wrist. “But your courage won’t…” He recoiled as if he had been burned. His green eyes widened, and he looked at his own hand. A red mark, like a burn, was forming on his fingertips. He looked at me with an expression of genuine surprise, then his eyes dropped to my hand. “Silver.” He hissed, his eyes fixed on my finger. “Pure silver. Blessed. Where did you get that?”

I was looking for was called the pink satin. Rich leers were said to stick to the part of the pleasure district. If I were going to give myself without love then I was going to make sure that it was with someone who had the money. Leers or non-humans tended to have money if they made it all the way into Rezzidel. As I walked I became aware of how over my head this situation was. Men were lifting the dresses of the women that they handed money to. Right there in the open. I kept Cedar's head facing me. I didn’t want him to be exposed to this. I couldn’t risk leaving him at the house and then mother coming back. I lifted my chin higher. I could do this. I tried not to make eye contact with an

"Fight for the pack! Fight for our home! Don't let everyone die for one person!" Marcus raised the knife in anger. "You little—" I didn't give him the chance. With a final surge of strength, I threw my weight backward, slamming into his chest. At the same time, I seized his wrist and dragged the silver dagger's point toward my own heart. "Sienna, no!" Horton's desperate roar tore through the night. But it was too late. The silver blade pierced my chest, and agony ripped through me. But seeing the despair in Horton's eyes hurt even more.

“Trevor Barrier, to swear this oath to the Silverclaw family, you must ensure this with a blood oath. Doing so will illuminate you completely if ever you were to betray, or cause ill intent to Silverclaw. Do you accept?” “I accept.” He put out his forearm and I made a slash with my claw through his palm and forearm. Then I slashed my own palm and forearm and grabbed his in the official were greeting. As our blood intermixed both of our eyes became silver, the silver swirled in his irises and then disappeared into his pupil. The minute it disappeared, a flash of silver emitted from my chest and into his. Trevor was officially a Barrier for Silverclaw. I repeated all of the same steps with the

“Wow! It is so beautiful! Alexander, I want one too!” I shrugged my shoulders. “OK, then just take it.” Alexander's face instantly turned dark. “Stop fooling around, this is equivalent to our wedding ring! Jessica, how can you just give it away to someone else?” I smiled. “But I do not think Lilith counts as someone else to us.” I snatched the bone ring and slid it directly onto Lilith's hand. Lilith giggled as she flaunted her hand toward Alexander. “Alexander, it fits me perfectly too!”

"I'm here to teach you to survive what's coming. Whether you keep your humanity or not... that's your choice to make." "Then teach me," Wendy said. "But don't try to make my choices for me." The marks on her skin pulsed brighter, and for a moment, her eyes flashed pure silver before returning to their normal hazel. Aria and Byrde exchanged a look over her head - worry mixed with something else. Fear, perhaps. Or recognition. "Very well," Aria said. "We'll do this your way. But remember - the silver power has its own will. And it's patient. It waited a hundred years for me to stop fighting it. It can wait for you too."

He takes the gun out from under his belt, pops out the cartridge cylinder to check the special silver slugs he made by melting down old earrings and necklaces he’d bought or bartered for at Old Man Handy’s Pawn & Thrift. After a few seconds of inspection that doesn’t make him feel any better, he slaps the cartridge cylinder back and pulls the hatchet from his belt. He paid two month’s wages to make a silver blade for it, because he’s read that silver hurts evil things, and though he’s not exactly sure what waits for him on the other side of that door . . . He knows it’s evil. So he holds both weapons and waits because he doesn’t need to open the door. When the time comes, it’ll open for him.

“I’m Coco Caviachi’s manager.” “DI Silver,” Paul said, “and this is my consulting detective, John Handful.” I shook the hand offered: snow-white cuffs, gold links, and smooth pale skin, faintly moist; well-tended nails, onyx and gold signet ring on little finger. There was often, in powerful men, a give-away droop of the eyelids which proclaimed an inner sense of superiority and he had it. Also dark grey eyes, one slightly darker than the other, black controlled hair and the tight mouth which goes with well-exercised decision-making muscles.