Mistborn Ghostbloods Novels & Stories

I say. "For what she expended." Maret chooses her words carefully. Sets them down like objects she is placing on a surface she isn't sure will hold them. "What she carries, what was revealed tonight, it isn't something we have a reference for. Not in living memory. The Moonblood hasn't manifested fully in generations." She pauses. "She used a significant portion of it in a very short time. The shift. The fight. And then what she did for you." She says that last part without inflection.

I began to chant as I felt the blood of Ares mixing with my own until I could feel his power coursing through my veins. I lift my hand and outstretched it until my long black fingernail was technically touching the barrier around the clearing. I watch as the tip of my nails began to bend until it melt. I smirked before retracting my hand. "Ester darling, I see you are not happy that I am visiting you today." I spoke and summoned one of my crows. This one name was Ghost, he had a liking for lost souls that lingered on earth.He could spot them quickly, something I have used him for occasionally when I want to suck some of the souls power. There is nothing more delicious than a wandering soul.

Adrian When we reached the old Phi Umbra house in Cainebrielle, the sight that greeted us was carnage wrapped in fire and silver. Blood streaked the grass, blackened with wolf and Dhampir alike. Carson and his men held their ground, but the wolves were pinned beneath a relentless hail of gunfire. The Strigoi’s Dhampirs were well-armed, their weapons gleaming with silver tips that sang with each discharge. They outnumbered the wolves ten to one, a tide of shadows pushing forward without hesitation.

Under the blood-red setting sun, Caspian stood on the ruins of a silent battlefield. Beneath his feet, corpses piled up like mountains and bones were like a sea. He seemed to be the Death who climbed out of hell! "Blood Sacrifice Grand Magic!" With a roar, Caspian punched again. At this moment, the whole surface of his forearm was covered with blood and the blood exploded into a thick bloody mist. The blood mist enveloped his arm, transforming into an enraged ghost head. It opened its huge mouth and punched out, roaring as it attempted to destroy everything.

Even so, he’d refused to dismount until she was taken away. He’d hoped to have a clearer idea of just what was happening to the cook’s boss as he entered the camp, but he couldn’t move past the pain and sorrow of the spirits that haunted it. That’s why he decided to purify them and send them on their way. Only then would he have a clear channel to the evil that was destroying the man they called Ian. Now, seeing the naked demon woman fighting the flames to get to them, he understood. He was dealing with a demon succubus, not a restless spirit. Demons are often attracted to the darkness of locations where mass death and trauma took place.

Let the blood drip directly onto Ethan’s chest. At once, his body ignited. But not with normal fire. Purple flame. Sybilla—whatever she was—screamed. “NO!” Too late. I stabbed the blade into the stone bowl. Our three bloods mixed completely. The world exploded in light. --- Purple flares shot from the altar, burning the ancient symbols hidden across the floor and walls. One by one, the ghost brides screamed—and vanished. But they didn’t disappear in agony. Their faces looked… free.

For a second, no one moved. The blade in my hand buzzed with power, the rift behind us roared with hungry magic, and in front of us, Damon stood with a bloodied grin—and an army of hunters ready to kill. Kael stepped in front of me again, his chest rising and falling in sharp bursts. “You’re a ghost, Damon. We buried you with the Scar.” “And yet,” Damon said, spreading his arms, “here I am—alive—while your world bleeds.”

Gunfire erupted again as the next wave entered the chamber. This time— They were ready. Arun moved with calculated precision. Lena danced through the chaos like a predator. And the Ghost— The Ghost became something else entirely. A phantom in the dark. Every shot perfect. Every movement flawless. Bodies fell one after another. The chamber turned into a battlefield. Smoke. Echoes. Blood. And in the center of it all— Three monsters working together. For now. Minutes passed like seconds. The last hunter collapsed. Silence returned once more.

before the monster could continue to finish his words, his eyes started to fall off as he felt his body turning into ash. Booshhh..... Green blood splattered everywhere but it didnt even touch a single hem of Gabriel shirt as he hid his palm once again and resumed walking, not caring about the phone that fall off and screen now shattered. Wind scratches his cheek as the green blood of the monster he had mercilessly touched at his back is starting to fade away and turned into ash, cleaning the once messy road as it got carried away by the wind. The system that played dead earlier when green blood splattered finally did his duty as he beep and announce loudly inside its Host head.

Seras is a walking inferno, green ghost-fire mixing with her normal red. Remy fights like a wolf possessed, claws and dagger and pure refusal to let anything touch me. I’m everywhere at once: Mirror Step through broken reflections, blood-lightning carving trenches in the fresh spring ground, Vinča symbols flaring across my skin for half a second before my healing erases them again. We’re losing. Then the ghosts show up. Al Capone and the boys step out of the steam like they were waiting for the cue. Tommy guns made of moonlight and 1920s wrath.