Page 26 of Bloodhunter

“You’re magnificent.” I ran my finger over the smooth silver,awed.

For a heartbeat there was nothing, then thesword...softened. The hilt changed, moved, and suddenly, I no longer held thehilt.Itheldme.

It wrapped around my hand like a leather fist, almost seemedto melt into my flesh, and coldness traveled up my arm into my shoulder, icy,painful, terrifying.

I screamed and tried to fling the sword away but it clungeffortlessly, moving with me. Part of me.

The blade shrank—not in width but in length—and as I drewback my arm and slammed it against the wall, it turned toward me. It turnedonme.

And then it took control of my arm.

I plunged the blade into my own chest, screaming as my fleshparted like water, then closed around the bite of the silver. The sword rippledas it drank, pulling my blood up its blade and into the hilt, contracting,expanding, breathing.

The sword was alive, but I was pretty sure I was dead.

Amias Sato had killed me after all.

Chapter Nine

Amias surely knew I might not survive his dubious gift, buthe did not return to see. Perhaps he realized I’d have shoved the blade intohis shriveled up excuse for a heart. Or maybe he simply didn’t doubt me.

I lay bloody and panting on the bed, and the sword restedacross my ribs like a sated lover. Once again, Silverlight was just a blade.

I pushed it gingerly off my body and slid from the bed,ignoring the dancing bright spots that hung in the air. I’d barely recoveredfrom the first round of blood loss before the second one had occurred, and Iwas close to fainting.

My cell rang, the sound a little muffled, and I patted mypockets for a good five minutes before I realized the ringing had long sincestopped and my phone was not on me. I finally caught sight of it on the bed,snatched it up, grabbed Silverlight, and stumbled to the bathroom. I placed thesword across the sink before I lowered myself to the tiny bench that had comewith the place. I peeled off my borrowed clothes, then turned on the shower to letthe water heat before I walked to the mirror to investigate the damage.

I shoved slick blood away from the wound, crying out whenpain shot through my chest and more blood welled from the gaping hole. Theblade had entered right above my left breast, digging and twisting as it hadslid in, and unless something magical occurred, I was going to have a hell of ascar.

Mentally, I shrugged. What was one more scar?

Someone began pounding on the front door, and even as I spuntoward the sound, I automatically reached for Silverlight.

“Guard her well. She will kill the world for you.”

The sword attached to me. To my hand, my arm, my shoulder,my blood. It had accepted me.Shehad accepted me. She’d taken my bloodand now she was mine.

Or…

I was hers.

The attachment wasn’t something I could see, but I couldfeel it like a tight, pulsating sleeve, tingling through my flesh, cold, thenhot, sizzling like electricity, and rushing like water, almost painful in itsshocking intensity.

With her vibrating and eager in my grip, I strode down thehall and to the living room. Before I reached the door, it crashed open.

Silverlight’s power fizzed and went out, and I nearlydropped her. Apparently she sensed no threat.

Clayton the Golem stood framed in the doorway, and somewherebehind him Mrs. Watson shrieked and scampered back into her apartment. I heardher door slam and the clicks of half a dozen locks, loud in the sudden silence.

Clayton and I stared across the floor at each other, neitherof us moving, until finally, he stepped into the room and gently closed thedoor behind him.

And despite my blade, he strode toward me, his stare narrowedand probing, his face unreadable as he surveyed my body.

“You broke my door,” I said, finally.

“I picked your lock,” he replied. “You should get betterprotection.” His eyes dropped to the sword I held.

“I have protection.” I gently waved Silverlight.