Night Blade: Blade Hunt Chronicles Book Two

by Juliana Spink Mills

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Acknowledgements

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE Raze

  CHAPTER TWO Ash

  CHAPTER THREE Camille

  CHAPTER FOUR Raze

  CHAPTER FIVE Del

  CHAPTER SIX Ben

  CHAPTER SEVEN Alex

  CHAPTER EIGHT Ben

  CHAPTER NINE Raze

  CHAPTER TEN Del

  CHAPTER ELEVEN Raze

  CHAPTER TWELVE Ben

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN Ash

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN Raze

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN Ben

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN Camille

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN Alex

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN Raze

  CHAPTER NINETEEN Camille

  CHAPTER TWENTY Del

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE Raze

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO Ash

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE Ben

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR Del

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE Raze

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX Ben

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN Del

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT Raze

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE Alex

  CHAPTER THIRTY Camille

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE Ben

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO Ash

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE Raze

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR Ben

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE Del

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX Raze

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN Alex

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT Raze

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE Del

  CHAPTER FORTY Raze

  Newsletter

  Also By Woodbridge Press

  NIGHT BLADE

  BLADE HUNT CHRONICLES BOOK TWO

  BY

  JULIANA SPINK MILLS

  Copyright © 2017 Juliana Spink Mills

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Cover Illustration © Tom Edwards

  TomEdwardsDesign.com

  Character Icons: Caleb Hystad

  Edited by: Samanda R Primeau

  Proofread byb: Scarlett R Algee

  Acknowledgements

  A big thank you to Nathan Hystad from Woodbridge Press for sticking by me and believing in my work. To my editing team, Sam Primeau and Scarlett Algee, for keeping me on my toes. And to my art team, Tom Edwards and Caleb Hystad, for making it all look pretty.

  A huge thanks to all the wonderful people who helped with beta reading and revisions – I couldn’t have done this without you. You are all super stars: Bryan Wigmore, Regina Yau, Liz Powell, Jo Zebedee, Christopher Valli, Simon Spink, and Alissa Mills.

  To my Chrons buddies and my lovely Pandas, as well as all my friends (too many to name, but you’re all fabulous): thanks for all the support and for keeping me sane.

  And – as always – to my family: thanks for being the best cheering squad a writer could ever want!

  PROLOGUE

  Headlights swept across the far wall of the darkened study. Lionel swore under his breath as he clicked off the slim flashlight and approached the window, keeping to the shadow of the drapes. The car stopped under the ornate carriage porch, and Lionel watched as the driver opened the back door and two figures stepped out. The first was clearly Lord Darkwing. The second…

  “Damn!” The tall, imposing figure was none other than Shade Raven, the most powerful and dangerous full demon of all.

  He hesitated for a split second. He should leave Étienne Darkwing’s office immediately, slip out before he was caught, and return to his guard post. But it had taken so long to get hold of the right door codes, and they changed weekly. He might never have the chance again. Mind made up, Lionel clicked the flashlight back on and returned to examining the desk drawers by its pencil-thin beam.

  He found the file he was looking for in the second drawer and set it on the desk. Inside, there was a neat list of contact names, useless unless you knew who they were and, more importantly, where they were. He scanned the list, eyes flying across the page. “There you are, traitor,” he whispered. He quickly photographed the list and returned the file to its place.

  He had just closed the drawer when he heard a voice in the hallway outside. “—strictly between us, you understand?” A chill shivered down his spine.

  Étienne’s voice replied, “Of course. Come, we’ll talk in my office.”

  Shit. There was no way to play this off, no reason for him to be in here. Any other room in the mansion, and he’d be able to say he was checking the windows or something. But not here, behind coded locks he had no business knowing how to open. He ducked down behind the elaborate Regency sofa, trying to quiet his breathing as the two full demons walked in. The door closed behind them with terrible finality.

  The lights came on, and Lionel was thankful for Darkwing’s penchant for soft mood lighting that left plenty of pools of welcome shadow. The antique sofa creaked as someone sat down. Looking up, he saw short, black hair and a pale, slender neck. Shade. She was so close he could have reached up and touched her on the shoulder. His fingers inched toward his pocket. Dare he try and send the photo he’d taken?

  Étienne was fussing around, serving drinks by the sound of it. Bottles clinked and liquid splattered softly into glasses over by the demon’s desk. There was a murmur of thanks from Shade as she leaned forward and then straightened once again. Lionel heard the squeak of leather as Étienne sat in one of the wingback chairs across from the sofa. He took advantage of all the movement to slide his phone out and set it on the carpet in front of him.

  “Now, tell me,” said Étienne. “How certain are you that the Heart Blade is truly among us again? Has it really been claimed?”

  “Certain? Brother, I will be certain when I see it with my own eyes, although our source says it is so. But we shall soon find out if Adeline is the Heart Bearer. The Guild of Saint Peter is bringing her to Court for the Mid-Winter Moot.”

  Étienne’s usual honey-sweet tones turned hard. “She’s your child. You Gifted her your blood, you made her. Claim her, take her back. Claw her away from the Guild and the Heart Blade will be ours. And the other Blades will follow.”

  Shade’s retort was ice cold. “You forget yourself, Etiel.” Lionel frowned. Etiel?

  There was a sharp intake of breath from Étienne. “Forgive me, sister. I did not mean to offend. But we cannot lose the Heart.”

  “So you are still with me in this? You’ll stand by my side?”

  “Need you even ask?”

  There was a pause, a silence so still and thick that Lionel was sure they would hear him breathing, or simply being. But this? This was worth the risk. This was vital information, as important as the list on his phone. He knew about the Blades, of course. Everyone knew the stories. Four mythical swords, corresponding to the four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. The Night Blade, the Star Blade, the King’s Blade and, finally, the Heart Blade. He’d met the Heart Bearer a month ago, at the Guild Chapterhouse. Adeline Raven, the young half-demon who had claimed the sword, was under Guild protection.

  Lionel knew all about Shade’s failed attempt to capture the Heart Blade for herself. But what no one kne
w was what she intended to do with the Blades.

  There was a rustle of fabric as she moved forward to set her glass down. Lionel took advantage of the slight noise to swipe his phone open and pull up the photo he’d taken. He selected the message option, thanking all the stars above that he’d set his phone to silent. Then Shade spoke again, startling him.

  “If Adeline has the Heart Blade, then we’ll take it eventually. In the meantime, we have three more Blades to find. We are so close. Soon, the Horsemen shall ride, and we will force our Father’s hand.” Shade’s voice cracked, becoming raw, pained. “I am so weary. If I spend another thousand years hiding like a rat among these humans I shall go insane. I would rather see the entire world burn than continue this mediocre existence.”

  Lionel froze, finger hovering over his contacts list. What the hell? All along, he’d thought Shade’s part in this was just a play for power. But here she was, casually talking about kick-starting the freaking apocalypse.

  At that moment, his phone vibrated with a text message. It was the smallest tremor, the tiniest of movements. But it was enough. A hand landed on his head, pulling painfully at his short hair. He was yanked upward, dropping his phone before he could press send. A second hand grabbed his chin, forcing his head up until he met Shade’s glittering silver eyes.

  “A human,” she said.

  Étienne hauled him to his feet, drawing him out to stand in the middle of the room. “One of my security guards.”

  Shade fished behind the sofa and brought out Lionel’s phone. She pursed her lips. “Not just a guard, I see.” She scrolled through his messages and contacts. “A Guild operative.” She held up the phone so Étienne could see the damning photo. “He has a list of all our spies, including the one we buried in the Chapterhouse. This was far too close. Deal with him, brother.”

  Étienne smiled sweetly and patted Lionel on the cheek with one hand. The other was an iron vise around his neck. “You know what the humans say about curiosity. Are you curious, boy? Are you a seeker of truths?”

  Shade made an impatient sound. “Really, Etiel?” she asked, annoyed. “Must you play with your food?”

  Lionel’s heartbeat skittered rabbit-like in his chest as he gasped for air. Étienne drew closer, brushing Lionel’s cheekbone with a thumb, the gentle caress at odds with the choking grip around his throat. “She takes no joy in this,” the demon whispered in his ear. “But I will reward you for your curiosity. I will show you my truth.”

  Étienne released him and took a step back. The room suddenly blacked out, all the light sucked from the air and into the demon’s body. He glowed from within, a supernova in the making. The ragged shape of broken wings stretched out to either side of the demon, blinding in their brightness, and it was beautiful and terrible at the same time. And then it was no longer beautiful, only terrible, and Lionel began to scream.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Raze

  The motorbike raced along the deserted road, the engine a defiant roar in the dark. Bleak, empty fields whipped past, the bright sparkle of Christmas lights left behind along with the last of suburban Toronto.

  Raze tucked her cold face closer to the leather-clad back that rubbed against her cheek, tightening her arms around the lean waist as she screwed her eyes shut. The wind and the wild sang in her veins, tempting her, whispering. Let go, they said, join us. She smiled to herself — a grin that was all teeth and fierce pleasure — and ran her tongue over her chapped bottom lip.

  She tapped his shoulder as they drew near, and the bike slowed and pulled to a stop underneath a towering elm tree, bare branches stark against the cloudy night sky. Raze climbed down, boots crunching on fresh snow. The driver killed the engine and pulled off his helmet, watching her as she tugged off her black woolen hat and ran her fingers through tangled curls. His name was Dave, or Steve, or something. She hadn’t really paid attention.

  “So,” he said, “this is where you go to school?”

  “Yeah, pretty much.”

  He was cute, dark-eyed and dangerous-looking. She moved closer, right in his face. He had a small scar on his chin. She ran a gloved thumb over it, and then leaned in and kissed him, hard and fast. Then she drew back, already turning away as she jammed her hat back on her head.

  “Raze, you going to give me your number?”

  She gave him a wicked smile over her shoulder. “Oh, I don’t think so.” Then she was off, running through the ankle-deep snow to leap at the high wall, fingers and toes finding purchase where most people would see nothing but sheer stone. She climbed higher and higher, until she threw a leg over the top and sat there, watching the boy on the bike speed away.

  Raze moved her other leg over and dropped. For one instant she drank in the thrill of falling. Then she shifted, clothes and skin and shoes and self turning to fur and packed muscle. She landed lightly and scented the night, the wolf’s senses coloring in everything that her human portion was blind to. And then she smelled him, and froze.

  “Raze? Is that what you’re calling yourself these days?” The vampire stepped out of the trees, his aura a faint red glow in the dark. She knew her own blue werewolf aura would be clinging to her fur like a cloud. She shook herself and shifted back, body prickling with cold from the sudden change in skin temperature.

  “Alex,” she replied, aiming for casual. “I was just out for a run.”

  “And biker boy was a chance encounter?”

  Crap. Raze hesitated, trying to gauge the vampire’s mood. She shrugged. “Okay. So I’m busted. Just how long have you been out here, anyway?”

  “I followed you when you left the building. Nice bit of climbing, by the way. I would never have imagined the girls’ dorm was so accessible.”

  “You’ve been out here for hours?” Damn, she really was busted.

  “You should count yourself lucky I caught you, instead of Daniel. Do you want to give your godfather a heart attack?”

  “No!” Her voice was too high and tight, almost a squeak. She took a deep breath and tried again, willing herself to sound reasonable. “Don’t tell Dan. Please? I don’t want to disappoint him. I won’t do it again.”

  Alex shook his head, but he was smiling. “Yes, you will.” He moved then, preternaturally fast, and pinned her to the wall with one hand, his brown robes swishing softly against the snow. He was still smiling, but it was a cold smile now, with a feral edge: a reminder that although the broad-shouldered monk with the shaggy blond mane of hair looked her age, he was in fact almost a thousand years old.

  “Raze,” he said softly, using the nickname she’d picked out for herself, her secret name, the one she hadn’t told a soul in the Guild’s Chapterhouse. “Don’t test me. This isn’t a game. Your parents died to keep you safe, and your godfather was almost killed protecting you.”

  She glared at him as she struggled to push him off, resentment flaring hot and finally breaking through the thin wall she’d built to contain it. “I never asked to be saved, Brother Alexander! And who cares? Really, tell me, who cares? The Guild kept me hidden in that abbey for seventeen years without telling me my true nature. I hated it, okay? I hated feeling different without knowing why. And then one day it all goes to hell, and demons are trying to take me, and then suddenly it’s ‘Oh, so sorry, Rose, it wasn’t you after all. You’re not who we thought you were. You’re not the girl from the Heart Blade prophecy. So have a nice life, Rose.’”

  Alex released her. Raze found she had tears in her eyes and she scrubbed them away angrily. “Then I get dumped here and left…,” she said, her voice dull and quiet, all fire gone and hating herself for the outburst, the stupid moment of weakness.

  “You weren’t dumped. We do care about you.” His voice was gentle, but she couldn’t read his blue eyes in the dark. “I care about you, and it has nothing to do with the Blade Hunt prophecies. And I thought you were happy here. I thought this was what you wanted: a chance to train, to learn about your abilities.”

  “I am happy here. I
was, anyway. At first. But now, I don’t know. It feels like another cage. The Guild trapped me for years inside the abbey, and now you’ve trapped me all over again.” She shivered as the wind gusted down the neck of her jacket, skin still shift-sensitive. She reached out, fingers cold inside her gloves, and pinched the sleeve of his monk’s robe between her fingers, holding tight as though she could wring answers from the rough fabric. “I want more, Alex. I don’t want to spend my entire life in here. There has to be more.”

  “And so you sneak out, and do what?”

  She let go of him, her hands catching at each other and twisting against her body. “Mostly I turn wolf and run. Sometimes I go into the city. I just need to get out. Is that too much to ask?”

  Alex huffed in frustration. “When it puts the rest of us at risk, yes. Come, it’s late. I won’t tell your godfather just yet. But stick to the Chapterhouse grounds for a while. That’s not a request.”

  He hesitated, and then spoke again. “The Chapterhouse is still a safe haven. But outside, things are changing. These are dangerous times. Your parents had enemies who would be happy to take you and use you as leverage. What do you think your godfather would do if you were snatched? He would do anything to get you back. You need to be aware that there’s a war going on. And we don’t want to lose you to it, the way we lost your parents.”

  Raze had no answer. There was only silence, and the faint pulse of her heartbeat in the night.

  ***

  Alex walked her back to her room. Her ears burned in shame, and she was glad the hallways were empty so that no one could see her being marched along like a prisoner. At her dorm room door she hesitated, fingers on the handle. Her keen shifter hearing had picked up conversation from inside. Her roommate was not alone.

  “I can take it from here,” she said, haughtily. “Or did you intend to tuck me in?”

  Alex shook his head, a grin ghosting at the corner of his mouth. “Nice try, Rose. I can hear them, too.” He knocked. “I’m opening the door,” he called out. “Consider this fair warning.”