Night Blade: Blade Hunt Chronicles Book Two

by Juliana Spink Mills

His voice never faltered once, but she saw Ash narrow his eyes briefly, and she wondered if Alex had been lying. You couldn’t lie to a sentinel, they could always sense it, but you could evade. Deacon was supposed to have arrived hours ago. Ash didn’t contest Alex’s words, though, or question him any further, and Bob the Troll led the way to a bank of elevators and then upstairs.

  The Guild delegation had three rooms, side by side. Apparently Dan and Alex were rooming together. Del was a little surprised at this at first — she’d expected the vampire to want some privacy. But then she remembered that Dan had been his squire, and that Alex had pretty much brought him up after Dan was taken in by the Guild as a kid.

  She collected her stuff from the trolley under the disapproving gaze of Bob, feeling underdressed in rumpled denim and a sweatshirt, and stepped into her bedroom. It had clearly been professionally decorated, its classic style blending seamlessly with modern touches, like a flat-screen TV and a top-of-the-line en suite bathroom.

  Del poked her head out of the doorway. Alex was still in the corridor, talking quietly to Ash. Del frowned. “Am I interrupting anything? I just wanted to see if I have time to get cleaned up.”

  “Of course,” said Alex. “Is half an hour enough? We’ll meet out here again and go down to dinner.”

  Del gave him a thumbs-up and went to unpack and find something to wear. Whatever was going on, she had a feeling that it involved Deacon’s delay. Ash would tell her later. Right now, there was a fancy shower that she couldn’t wait to try out.

  ***

  Deacon and Camille arrived halfway through dinner, looking slightly disheveled and thoroughly exhausted. Camille had changed at some point: Del could clearly remember the bright turquoise sweater she’d been wearing in the morning. Now, the half-demon was subdued in a cream turtleneck that made her look unnaturally pale and accentuated the dark circles under her eyes. Del didn’t say anything; she just went along with the slightly forced joviality at the table, although she could see Ash flicking worried looks at his dad.

  The food was good, at least. It was served buffet-style, and the dining room looked like an ordinary hotel restaurant, with small and larger tables all around. The dinner guests, though, that was new. After three months living at the Chapterhouse, Del had thought she was used to eating with lots of different preternaturals. But this was on a whole other scale. There were so many of them: ones she was used to, like demons and sentinels, and quite a few types of preternatural she had never met before. Like the young man with the white-blond hair eating alone, his aura a silvery blue.

  Del spotted a couple of pixies chatting animatedly in a corner, their hair dyed in matching purple and blue stripes. In the middle of the room, there was a large group of vampires, eating in uncomfortable silence. In contrast, a table of werewolves was laughing hilariously at something. All around her, different auras formed a kaleidoscope of colors, a rainbow-hued reminder of how much vaster the preternatural world was than her own small experience.

  Next to her, Camille sighed and pushed her plate away. “I can’t eat any more. I’m so tired! I’m going to call it a night. That way I can get an early start in the morning. Del, do you have your key? Or are we sharing this one?” Camille held up an iron key, identical to the one sitting heavily in Del’s pocket.

  “It’s a duplicate,” Alex answered. “You each have your own.”

  “Good.” Camille set her napkin daintily on the table and stood up. “Good night, then. I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

  Dan looked around the table. “An early night wouldn’t be a bad idea for any of us.” Del’s yawn was enough of an answer.

  ***

  Del couldn’t sleep. She was tired, exhausted actually, but her mind just wouldn’t shut down and leave her alone. Her fingers found the scar on her arm and gently traced the letters. Never. What had she been thinking when she’d carved them into her skin? What had she been trying to tell herself? She’d always assumed it meant to not give in to Shade, to not join her. To avoid making that first kill and sealing her demon nature.

  And perhaps it had, so now that she had done all that, and was almost free from Shade Raven, she should have been satisfied. But she wasn’t. The forgotten part of herself that had carved the message wasn’t happy. The not giving in, that was only a part of the story. There was more behind that single word, “never”, and Del couldn’t explain how she knew that. She just did.

  The room was silent except for Camille’s soft breathing, so Del heard the rustling noise clearly. She sat up, tense, but there was nothing there. The room was quiet, and nothing was out of place. The moonlight filtered in through a gap in the curtains, giving her enough light to see by. She got up cautiously and padded around, checking the windows and finally the door. Everything was firmly shut, as it should be.

  She leaned forward, setting her eye to the old-school peephole in the door. No one was out there, but when she shifted her foot, she stepped on paper, and suddenly the rustling noise made sense. She bent down and plucked it up — a folded piece of torn-out notepaper. Probably a memo from Alex. She unlocked the door and peered out, but the hallway was empty.

  Del looked down at the note as she drew her head back inside the room. Adeline Raven was written on the outside in delicately looping handwriting. She frowned as she relocked the door and took the note to the bathroom. It wasn’t from Alex, then. He wouldn’t use her full name, the one he knew she hated.

  She shut the bathroom door before switching on the light so she wouldn’t wake Camille. She unfolded the note. All it said, in the same elegant hand, was:

  Rowan of Maidensfall.

  Del turned the note over again, looking for something else, anything. But that was all there was. Heart pounding, she switched off the light and returned to bed. She grabbed her cell phone and ducked under the covers, pulling up a browser screen. She typed in Maidensfall and frowned at the answers. There were a jumble of fantasy books and gaming references. A campsite in Oregon. There were a couple of articles about freak accidents with ravens. At the bottom of the results list she saw it. Maidensfall: the lost settlement, Yorkshire, UK. She clicked on the link and began to read.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Raze

  The meeting had fallen apart pretty quickly after Gareth had been wounded. Lix and May had whisked him away to some healer witch to treat the venom in Finn’s bite, leaving Ben and Raze behind. Lix only stopped long enough to snap out, “Stay. We’ll be back.”

  They hadn’t talked much after that; Ben was worried about Gareth, checking his phone every five minutes, and Raze was too busy panicking about Finn. She didn’t dare slip outside to phone him. Instead, she picked at a slice of cold pizza and doodled on one of the sheets of notes that Lix had printed up and left in a neat pile.

  Eventually, Lix and May returned. Lix was grim-faced, angry. “He’s okay,” she said immediately, before Ben could even open his mouth. “That piece of crap pixie got him good, but he’ll heal.”

  Ben looked perplexed. “What was that, anyway?”

  Lix sat at the table, collapsing heavily into a chair and scrubbing her face with her hands. “Remember the bite mark? The double line of teeth? Well, turns out the second set of teeth only descend when a pixie feels threatened. And they’re venomous. Like, lethal amounts of venom. But Finn, or whatever his real name is, didn’t bite down hard with his back teeth. So only a small amount of the stuff got into Gareth’s system.”

  Raze stared at Lix. “I didn’t know that about pixies. They’re venomous? For real?”

  “Yeah, apparently. It’s not a widely known fact. The healer we took Gareth to said that’s probably because they rarely use what they call the Bite. It’s against Covenant law. I guess Finn wasn’t too worried about the rules. It’s not like we’re going to turn him in,” Lix said bitterly.

  “So what do we do now?” asked Ben. “We’re down our shields man, and our site control. The pixie’s in the wind. Do we cancel?”

  “No, we
can’t cancel,” said Lix. “This will be our best chance for a long while. Gareth won’t be able to pull off shields, but the healer says he’ll be well enough to do Finn’s part. He can sit still and watch over Winslow’s staff, once we get them into stasis. Inside the vault, we’ll have to do without him.”

  She tapped the table, orange nail polish a lurid splash of color against the cheap plastic surface. “Okay, listen up. The timing remains the same. Nothing changes.” Lix went over every tiny detail for the next day, checking and rechecking all of their gear and preparations. As the meeting drew to an end, she sat back, frowning at them all.

  “Okay, now I know you’re worried about that damn pixie. Yes, I saw the way our magic bounced off him. But remember, he’s still under the contract spell. He drank it willingly. No amount of resistance to magic will stop it from running its course. He won’t die just from running out on us; that’s not enough to trigger the spell. But he still can’t tell people about it. And he can’t lead them to us, either.”

  May eyed the warehouse door nervously. “Are you sure? He knows our plans, he knows our location, he even knows the cars we’ll be using, considering he — oh, I don’t know — purchased them in the first place!”

  Lix rolled her eyes. “Don’t be an idiot, May. That would be a breach of contract, wouldn’t it? The guy may be a piece of Guild shit, but I doubt he has an actual death wish. Anyway, Finn, or whatever his real name is, clearly wants us to go ahead with this and take the swo— item.” She paused for a barely perceptible instant, and Raze’s heart jumped. Sword. Lix carried on speaking as though she hadn’t slipped up. “He wouldn’t have led us on this far if he didn’t plan to see this through. He’ll probably try and find a way to snatch the goods once it’s all over. But I’ve got a trick or two up my sleeve. Like this one.”

  Lix pulled a small vial out of her pocket. Inside, there was a hazy looking orange liquid, thick and viscous. “Liquid fire. It can’t be extinguished, it has to burn itself out.” She closed her fingers around it. “The pixie may be spell-resistant, but this nasty little thing will go through most protection.”

  Raze tore her eyes away from the mesmerizing vial and noticed that Ben hadn’t even glanced at it. He was staring at Lix instead, eyes narrowed, a speculative look on his face. “Sword,” he said suddenly. “That’s what you almost said. That’s what we’re going after. It’s a sword.”

  Lix had the good grace to look flustered. “Did I—? No, I didn’t say that.”

  “Cut the bullshit, Lix,” said Ben. “Just tell us, already.”

  “Damn it, Ben, you’re so annoying. Fine, it’s a sword. Happy now? We’re after a 16th century rapier, something called an espadaropera. It has a long, slender blade and an ornate, cup-shaped hilt.”

  Ben was gaping. “Do you even know what that is? What we’re after? Hell, Lix. No wonder it’s locked up in a time warp.”

  “What?” asked May. “Ben, what are you talking about?”

  “It’s the Night Blade,” he answered softly. “Isn’t it? Don’t try to deny it, Lix. I know I’m right. And Raze knows it too.” Her cheeks grew warm as Ben turned to her. “I saw your face. You recognized the description, didn’t you?”

  Raze nodded. No point in trying to deny it, even if she could ignore the hot flush currently plastered all over her face. “Yeah, I recognized it. I read a bunch of Blade Hunt prophecy stuff after the Heart Blade was found by that Raven girl, the half-demon.”

  Ben turned back to Lix. “And now we’re after the Heart’s sister sword. Please tell me our mystery client isn’t Shade Raven?”

  “No, okay?” Lix all but shouted. “We’re not working for the demons. Honestly, Ben, as if you even need to ask!”

  He sat back, a grimly satisfied look on his face. “So you do know who the client is. I thought so. You’re full of crap, Lix.”

  “Look, forget about the client,” Lix said angrily. “Let’s all just focus on our jobs so we do this thing right. We meet back here at noon tomorrow. I think you all need to go home now and get some rest. Remember, we don’t know how long we’ll be stuck in the time warp.”

  ***

  Raze shared a train with Ben as far as Times Square, and then they parted ways. She shivered as the subway clattered its way along beneath the city. While Finn had been the main person on the job, she’d been able to pretend that she had a choice, that she wouldn’t be able to take the sword anyway. Jude would understand, and he’d release her grandparents unharmed.

  But she’d been kidding herself. This had Jude’s nasty fingerprints all over it. He’d set them up, she was sure of it. He’d guessed, somehow, that Finn would take the fall, and that Raze would be the only one left standing. He’d backed her into a corner, and now she would have to choose. Her grandparents, or the Guild.

  When she reached her stop, she didn’t go home immediately. Instead, she called Finn. “Are you all right?” she asked. “Did they do anything to you?”

  “Nah. I’m a duck.”

  Raze blinked at the bizarre answer. “Huh?”

  “Ducks, you know? Water off a duck’s back? Pixies are ducks. Most spells just roll right off us. It’s a good defense mechanism. We’re not super strong, or fast, but we’re almost impervious to magic.”

  “And you bite. Good to know. Will Gareth be okay?”

  “He’ll live,” Finn said, all matter-of-fact. “If they treat him right, he won’t lose the arm. Anyway, I’m sorry I dropped you in it. But I couldn’t let you take the fall. Alex would have my hide if I left you to burn. Only thing is, you’re on your own now, Raze.” He sounded unhappy. “I’m here for backup, and you’ll need to let me know somehow when the job is over and you’re moving out, so I can intercept and take the sword. Maybe by then I’ll have found a way to neutralize the contract spell.”

  “No. It’s too dangerous. Just… let it go, okay? I’m on it. I’ll figure something out,” she promised.

  She walked for a couple of hours after she hung up, not really paying attention to where she was heading. Somehow her feet found the way back to the apartment, and she let herself into the building sometime after eleven at night.

  When she reached her floor, she wasn’t really surprised to find Jude outside her apartment. He was sitting cross-legged on the floor, reading a book. He looked up as she stepped out of the elevator.

  “Check your phone,” he said.

  She did, and found she had a message. She clicked on it. It was a video, and her gut clenched as she opened it. It was a short, ten-second piece, showing her grandfather handcuffed to a hospital-style bed, IVs snaking out of his arms. He looked terrible. The video panned around, showing a dingy concrete basement with no windows. It looked cold and dark. Her grandmother sat beside the bed, crying, hands cuffed to the arms of her chair so she couldn’t touch her husband. The video ended.

  Jude marked his page and set the book down on his knee. “Doesn’t look too great, does he? Are you ready to talk business now?”

  Raze snarled, shifting before she even knew what she was doing. She closed the short distance at a run, intent on ripping Jude’s throat out. She barreled into him, knocking him over, teeth snapping shut on thin air as he caught her neck and held her off.

  “Enough,” he said, steel in his voice. “Don’t let the wolf take over. You give in, and it’s the end for them. Do you think I haven’t left orders?”

  She shifted back to her human form, gasping. “You utter bastard!”

  Jude got up, all easy grace, and gestured at the door. “Let’s take this inside, okay? Before some nosy neighbor comes to take a look. Don’t want any more collateral damage, do we?”

  Raze unlocked the door, fingers shaking with anger. Jude followed her inside and shut the door behind him. “Have you decided?” he asked bluntly, skipping the taunting, the teasing, the small talk.

  She lowered her head. The Guild had stood beside her all these years. Dan had saved her life as a baby, snatching her away from Shade’s pack. But the
se were her grandparents, her actual blood family, and they were going to die.

  “I’ll do it,” she whispered.

  Jude stretched out a hand, and at first she thought he wanted to shake on it. But then she saw the glint of glass in his fingers. “The antidote. To the contract spell. Can’t have you unable to communicate.”

  She took the tiny bottle and uncorked it. “Do I just drink it?”

  “Yes. Like Alice in Wonderland. But you’re not going to shrink.” He grinned, and she glared at him.

  She drank it in one go. It wasn’t horribly unpleasant, even if it did taste rather strongly of cinnamon. “How do I know if it worked?”

  “Trust me. Take a chance. Tell me something, anything.”

  Weirdly enough, she did trust him. He needed her; he wasn’t going to harm her. “The Night Blade is in Baron Winslow’s vault,” she blurted out. She closed her eyes and waited for the pain to begin. But nothing happened, nothing at all. It was strangely anticlimactic.

  She opened her eyes. “I’m all right.”

  “Well, of course you are, little wolf.” He handed her a second bottle. “In case they make you take another contract potion after the whole pixie debacle. Now get me that sword. I expect you to contact me as soon as you’re out. I’ll have a team on standby to retrieve it. Do you still have my business card?”

  “No,” she lied. But Jude’s eyes unerringly found the small rectangle of paper, still lying on the table where she’d left it before. He said nothing, but his smile grew wider, sharp as his cheekbones.

  “Good night, Rose,” he said, walking to the door and opening it. “Good luck tomorrow.”

  Then he was gone, and Raze was left clutching the tiny potion bottle in one hand and her cell phone in the other, with the video of her grandparents still paused on the screen.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Ash