Rick Grimes Hidden Blade Novels & Stories

I rounded up my story "You're really evil ,you're a devil" Whitney yelled and I slapped her "No!! Don't you dare touch her you bastard" Jack yelled jerking on the chair "Don't worry lover boy, you'll get to watch more of this" I said and took a heated knife I held Whitney face in place and began moving the knife close to her face. "No stop please don't hurt her" Jack kept yelling I grinned and sliced Whitney face with the hot knife, she cried out in pain as blood gushed outta her cheek

"Rise up boy and show me your face." Upon hearing this, the young lad jerked his head up, showing his deep emerald, almond-shaped eyes and tanned skin. His squared jaw showed some bruises that link up to his upper lip. The leather garments he was wearing were full of dirt and sweat, showing some stains of blood that might have been from a wild animal he perhaps killed a few weeks ago. Some strands of his copper hair covered his forehead as he looked up. He was visibly trembling but still managed to speak. "Y-yes s-sire?"

"We've confirmed they're one and the same, so I've had someone on his tail at every hour of the day." "I mean, Graham's been a martial god with ultimate mastery for three years now. It's gotta be tough to track him without getting caught, right?" Quispe chimed in again. "Don't sweat it, Black Blade. We've got it covered," Nevaeh assured him with a grin. Whoa! Black Blade could not help but suck in a breath. Nevaeh's words meant the tracker was no slouch—had to be top-tier. He was dead sure they were not from the Shadow Sect. Knowing them as he did, no one but the Five Blades could match that level of badassery.

“Try not to get killed, brother. It would be a shame for me to run this circus without you.” “It would be a shame for you to run anything,” Cruz shot back. But Blade’s grin didn’t hide the gravity in his eyes. He twisted the throttle, the machine roaring like a beast waking from hibernation. Gray pulled up behind them, knife already tucked into his belt, silent as always. Knox checked his rifle, nodded once, then mounted up with Blade’s crew. The plan was in motion.

I could still hear others cursing him for being the bane to their existence. Blade’s expression darkened. He suddenly stopped dancing. His voice was rough when he asked, “Did you peek in my memories? What did you see, Katniss?” “Just glimpses… of your past.” “Then I ought to kill you. No one is supposed to know my secret.” Blade was saying all those harsh words and yet, for the first time, I saw the wounded look in his eyes. His voice and words sound threatening as if he wanted me to push him away and yet for some reason, his eyes looked like he was asking to be saved.

Both men exchanged a glance, trying not to let the fear show. “We’ve been trying to reach him too,” Graves answered, his throat tight. “The last place I left him was Pinebend.” “Good. I’m going there now,” Blade said, then the line went dead. Graves gripped the wheel and drove into the night. Meanwhile, Damien was still fighting the men in suits. Six were already on the ground, but the last four pressed on with equal determination. Their skill was undeniable and his head throbbed from a knife wound that had opened the skin above his brow.

Dust and moonlight swirled. Grace took a step forward. “Give Adrian to me. Let’s walk away from this.” “No,” Echo said calmly, removing a slim blade from her coat. “You don’t walk away from evolution, Grace. You embrace it. Or you become extinct.” A Blade and a Bomb Grace knew the fight was coming. She hadn’t brought a gun. Just the chip Echo wanted, secured in a small biometric vault hidden inside her jacket. Echo lunged without warning. Their bodies clashed like magnets, mirror against mirror. Fists, elbows, knees. Not a single move was unfamiliar. Grace had trained her, after all. Every blow Echo threw, Grace anticipated, but Echo anticipated back.

The soil around him lay smooth, showing no signs of a struggle and no stray tracks. The blade was still in his chest. I recognized the hilt before I crouched beside him. Dark leather wrapped twice near the guard, a narrow line of silver set into the pommel. I had seen that knife once before, drawn in a room where no one needed to raise their voice to make a threat understood. Lucien did not leave weapons behind by mistake. The body had been left in plain view. It lay where anyone walking the river path would see it. The same path Nyxara took when she wanted distance from the yard.

“I don’t care whose blood it is—it’ll spill. Starting with the remnants of the Graves gang. I want them wiped out! Every last one of them!” He stormed toward us, his heavy footsteps reverberating off the marble floor. When he reached Dontrell, he cupped his son’s bruised face, his fingers brushing over the injury. “Give me names,” he demanded, his voice a dangerous growl. “It’s not that simple,” Dontrell said, his tone rising. “Someone is lurking in the shadows. This isn’t just about the Graves gang.” “Give me names!” Mr. Blade roared, his voice burning with fury.

Her analytical assassin mind registered the detail, cataloging it for later. Little Blade grinned, his eyes raking over Skylar's slender, young figure with a disgusting, hungry leer. “Heh. How do you like our little hideout? It’s nice and quiet here, right?” He then leaned in, his voice dropping into a lecherous, guttural demand. “Now, hand over all the cash you have. And then… we search you.”