Vash X Knives Novels & Stories

Lethal. It struck perfectly. Thunk. Jonas stared in horror. Husen looked mildly inconvenienced. The knife protruded directly from his neck. Blood slid slowly beneath his collar. A long silence followed. Then the vampire sighed. “Rude.” He pulled the blade free with elegant annoyance and examined it under the flickering light. “Silver-edged,” he mused. “Custom balanced.” His gaze lifted to Sera. “Do you sharpen these yourself?” Sera reached for another knife.

“That’s why I’m called The Shiv.” “B-betrayer? Traitor?” he sputtered, “Don Vyon, I do not know what you’re talking about!” I nodded patiently. “Don’t worry. There’s more than enough time to make you understand.” I leaned away and walked over to the table where an array of knives, different types and sizes, were on display, my eyes scanning for the perfect tool for the night. For the sleazy traitor. My eyes finally settled on a twelve-inch blade with a silver blade, and the corner of my lips turned up in a half, sinister smile.

Blood pooled below him as he tried to save himself in a futile attempt. Grayson drew his hand back, but grunted as a knife was thrown, piercing the right side of his mid abdomen. Grayson knew immediately it wasn't just any knife, nor was it clean. He felt the burn of silver, and a foreign substance coursing through his body at an alarming rate. He looked up and saw the Commander drawing his hand back with another knife that never left his hand. Xavier tackled him and ripped his head off before he ever had a chance to throw the second blade.

I was so tempted to take a couple of shots at him now, but I wanted him to feel every ounce of what I shell out. I remembered what Mateo told me had been placed into Vanessa’s vagina, and gave that some thought. While I was doing that, I got out my silver knife set and began sharpening the blades. I can already tell my cuts will have to be perfectly precise because of how the cuffs have seared the skin and made it bubble up. It may cauterize even as it burns, which won’t be nearly as messy as it usually is, but it may extend his life span, which is fine by me because I promised he would pay for each and every scratch on Vanessa’s body.

If he knew any of the thoughts running through my mind, the only one who would be dead in seconds would be me. I reached for my knife and flicked it to reveal the blade. It was brand-new like every other gift from The Viper. But not for much longer. I held the hilt firmly in my hand and raised it above my head, using all my wrath to bring it down to his chest.

She hunted him down. I shifted my weight and peeked through the crack in the door. Kai's private armory smelled like sharp metal and clean gun oil. He stood near a long wooden table. He held a silver hunting knife in one hand and a clean rag in the other. He didn't wear a shirt. The harsh overhead light highlighted the thick, silver scars tracing across his broad chest and muscular arms. He looked lethal. He looked perfect. Vanessa stood a few feet away from him. She still wore that borrowed gray dress. She held a crystal glass of dark red wine in her hand. She claimed she wanted water, but she brought alcohol into a weapon room.

Arsenio glanced at Freya because he felt less connected when talking to Hans. "Mr. Hans, that's his attitude." Freya replied with a small smile. "Alright." Arsenio followed Hans who was already walking. The fifteenth shelf, from where Arsenio was standing earlier. On the shelf were various knives of different sizes. "In the Mafia System, you have chosen this folding knife." Hans showed a folding knife that Arsenio had originally glanced at. "Ah, right. Thank you." The young man then took the sharp object from Hans' hand.

She was absorbing. I stepped to the right side of the room. “This wall is knives. Every type you can think of. Combat blades, switchblades, karambits, trench knives, double-edged, spring-loaded, throwing knives. Most people don’t realize how often these end up being the backup when guns fail. Knife throw is an art in itself.” Gianna glanced over them, her eyes narrowing as she took in the polished blades and serrated edges. She reached out to touch one but paused, hesitant. The thing looks weird in her soft, delicate hands, not gonna lie.

I'd seen it in a book somewhere. Then his teeth flashed and I clocked it. A Dvergar. No question. Craft-blood practically oozed off him. He had an impish smile — all small teeth and delight, no caution at all. He talked with his hands, fast, animated. I stared. Vasska returned to my side, voice dropping into a low mutter. “Yasha Fenvari. The fox-blood.” Now I knew her last name but Vasska didn’t sound too pleased.

“Welcome home, Miss Vance. The primary office is open. The author is waiting.” Viktor’s face went completely white in the glare of the lantern. "No... No, the loop was supposed to close! The assets are mine!" He reached into his coat, his hand coming out with a heavy silver revolver, but before he could raise the barrel toward the dais, Aisha materialized from the smoke behind him, her combat knife catching the red security light as she drove it straight into his shoulder, sending him crashing into the stone steps.