Novel & Cerita Knife Blank Hidden Tang

he said. "I look like bait." "That too." He crossed the room and pulled something from his pocket. A small knife, no longer than my palm, with a blade that gleamed wickedly sharp. "Ankle holster. Hidden under your dress. Just in case." I let him strap it to my leg, his fingers careful and professional despite the intimacy of the gesture. When he was done, he stood and pressed his forehead to mine. "Five seconds," he murmured. "That's how long it will take me to reach you if something goes wrong. Five seconds. Remember that."

He doesn't notice — couldn't notice — how my gaze quickly cuts to the rearview mirrors, checking the discreet presence of my men. My leather bag rests between us on the car seat, seemingly harmless — just another expensive designer accessory. But I know the weight it carries. The Glock 26, compact and deadly, is fitted into the special holster sewn into the lining. And beside it, wrapped in black silk, is the razor my mother gave me.

The sky gradually darkened; the night was destined to be a bloody one. With the cold grin still on his face, Fane flicked his wrists to reveal several dozen silver needles. With a wave of his hands, the needles flew out like afterimages. Shink, shink, shink! Many people were killed before they even reached Fane. “This guy knows how to use hidden weapons, and it’s hard to notice them! Be careful!” somebody exclaimed when they saw several dozen people dying just as Fane so much so moved. “Die!” Standing on higher ground, another burly man jumped up and lunged at Fane with a big, heavy knife.

He was not able to find anything strange about the cutlery. Blayne peered over Sianna’s shoulder. He, too, arched his brow in curiosity. “Vance, did you find something?” “All knives in my home are either German or Japanese classic knives that are ordered in sets,” I informed them, “Surely you can see that there’s one that does not match the rest of the knives.” “Oh,” Sianna reached in to remove the knife but I quickly snatched her hand. Looking at her and shaking my head. Blayne and Duke suddenly realized the one that stood out.

Eliza popped out of concealment with her spear held at the ready, the razor-sharp tip pointed menacingly. He saw Kali’s weapon clearly for the first time. In her right hand was a long, dark metallic sword with some kind of engraving on the blade. In fact, the language etched into the Arabian-type sword matched that of Nicholas Clurife’s perfectly. He remembered that specific sword all too well. Blakeney took the stairs two at a time and sealed off the only other exit. He slipped into a defensive crouch, the sword of Troy and a shield in battle position.

“Breathe babe. You got it?” My fingertips brushed leather. Boot. I hooked two fingers under the cuff, tugged. The knife was tucked in the inner side pocket…small, folding, serrated edge. I got it. The blade slid free with a soft click. We both let out the same relieved breath. “Yes,” Agnes hissed. “You beautiful, brilliant and smart bitch.” “Shh,” I snapped. “Keep your mouth shut. We don’t want to draw attention.” She went quiet instantly.

He says the last part in a whisper, his eyes shuttering as he does. I release a heavy breath that I didn't know I was holding. “But, you need something. So for now,” he says, his gaze shifting from me to the road and vice versa within seconds. From under the stirring wheel, he pulls open a hidden cabinet. Where he pulls out a sheathed dagger. It wasn't small, but not big either. It was light to move and swifter to use. It was curved like a sickel, making the blade look more deadlier. Promising a swift, clean and sure kill.

With their robust construction, user-friendly operation, and safety features, Glock firearms provide the assurance I need for personal protection. Having securely stowed my Glock, I discreetly attach my knife to a concealed holster on my calf. It’s always wise to err on the side of caution. I make my way to the kitchen, where I quickly prepare a cup of coffee. Nona, busy cooking, greets me with a warm smile and a nod.

"Just one gun? Take a knife too—for extra security." He moved to another section, pulling out a slim, cylinder-like object. He held it up. I frowned. "What’s that? A perfume bottle?" The label even read Fragrance in elegant gold letters. Conner chuckled. "That’s the point. It’s a camouflage knife." He twisted the top, and in a flash, a hidden blade slid out. My breath caught. "Oh my…" The blade gleamed under the soft light, sharp, lethal. “I'll take it too," I muttered, stepping closer and reaching for it.

The front of the blade was as equally sharp. The machete did not have a hilt, as it was one solid piece. The only transition was that the tang of the blade was instantly turned into a handle. It only had one nock in it and it was right before the transition, on the same side of the blade. The nock was about the size of an index finger’s first knuckle, triangular in shape. Even though it was with out a hilt that nock had saved his life a few times, for no matter what was parried, the nock would catch it.