Wrist Blades Novels & Stories

​The hand shot through the raw tear in the fabric before my fingers could retreat, black fingers clamping around my wrist with a shock of dead, numbing cold. I screamed, driving the crimson edge of the Crown Blade downward with every ounce of panic left in my chest. It struck his forearm with a dull hiss, black blood splattering across the cold stone, and he recoiled into the shadows. My other self slammed into my side, her arms wrapping tight around my waist to haul me backward across the floor.

I twisted my wrist, flattening the blade on her neck, the cold steel pressing directly against the frantic, leaping pulse point just beneath her jaw. Her body heat seeped into mine through our thin clothes, her rapid, shallow breaths hot against my collarbone. I didn't let go of her wrist, keeping her pinned tightly against the hard planes of my torso. I leaned my head down, my lips inches away from hers, close enough that I could see the dark ring of amber around her pupils. "Always look out for unexpected weapons," I whispered, the words brushing against her mouth. "A gun in your face is usually a distraction for the blade in the hand."

I didn’t even breathe before the man pulled something from inside his jacket that looked like a blade, sharp enough that the weak chandelier glow caught the edge and threw it straight at me. “No!” Caleb shouted. Everything slowed. The scream ripped from Lucy. Derek’s body lunging forward. Adrian’s hand was crushing tighter around my waist, like he could shield me with his own bones. But the blade was already slashing toward me. Straight at the scar hidden under my glove. I couldn’t move and couldn’t scream. I couldn’t even do anything but stare as the silver edge came closer. And then… It didn’t hit. My wrist, my cursed, burning wrist, exploded in light.

The edge scraped across my palm. A sharp pain shot through my palm. Blood welled up fast, spilling over my fingers, but I didn't let go. I couldn't. I held her wrist tighter, forcing the blade away from her skin as red drops fell, one after another, hitting the ground with small, wet sounds. Her eyes went wide. Her breath stilled. She didn’t pull back or fight me. She just stared, shaken, confused, stunned that I stepped in. I yanked the blade out of her shaking fingers and threw it across the room. It hit the wall and dropped.

The male doesn't even realize he's doing it, getting comfortable with us. Ransom finishes tightening the final bracket and steps back from the workbench. “There.” He wipes soot from his hands and motions me forward. “Come on. Let's see if these fit.” I move toward him looking at his work up close. The claw blades are impressive. Curved steel extensions designed to fit over a shifter's natural claws. I didn't know what to expect but it wasn't this. The style will fit seamlessly into our style and fighting techniques making it each to incorporate our new advantage into what we already know.

He committed his weight left and I went right and low, inside his guard before he could close it, and brought the practice blade up and across and stopped it at his throat from an angle that had come from underneath his sightline. His forearm came down on my wrist at the same moment. Not a counter. A lock. The blade stopped moving and my wrist couldn’t push through and we were very close together with neither of us in a position to finish anything. Both breathing hard. The bond hit like a wave and I stood inside it and held completely still.

I push off the floor and go low, aiming for the space under his ribs where armor would slow a reaction. My hand closes on the blade hidden in my sleeve. The motion is clean. Familiar. I strike upward. He moves at the same time. His hand snaps around my wrist with precise timing. The blade stops inches from his body. There’s no struggle. Just sudden stillness, like hitting an invisible wall. I try to twist free. He doesn’t let me. His grip is firm, but careful. He adjusts his hold instead of tightening it, shifting my wrist so the angle won’t break anything. That detail registers even as I fight it.