By Seressia Glass
Kira Solomon is not able to the touch one other dwelling being—she attracts off the power of animate items, “downloading” techniques, feelings, memories...and, dangerously, draining the spirit. An antiquities professional through day, she catalogs and defuses historical magical artifacts; via evening, she’s a Shadowchaser—a bounty hunter within the everlasting fight opposed to the Shadow of Chaos. while Kira comes throughout an old dagger that belongs to Khefar, a 4,000 year-old Nubian warrior, the sexual stress among the 2 builds, and a sinister evil units its points of interest on them either.
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Additional resources for Shadow Blade (Shadowchasers)
Example text
Many weapons, many places, many times. The rushing sound returned to Kira’s brain, separating her awareness from the dagger. She opened her eyes with a gasp, finding herself sprawled on her oriental carpet, the dagger inches from her outstretched hand. She scrambled away from it, away from the emotion and sensation that threatened to drag her back through the Veil. “Ma’at protect me,” she whispered, drawing a shaky hand across her lips. By the Light, the dagger really was four thousand years old, and possessed of so much magic that it was almost sentient.
Small-caliber handgun in the holster at the small of her back, one general-issue protective charm concealed in the thick silver bracelet on her right wrist, and one ready-to-use assault spell behind the watch on her left. The heavy silver collar at her throat was a weapon of last resort—it took too many seconds to convert to a slinging blade for her liking. Sometimes mere seconds decided which way her fights would go. She’d planned to return home after dinner to change into full Shadowchasing gear—could never have too many weapons or protections—for her nightly patrol around the city in order to avoid the brunt of Bernie’s curiosity.
Outside a hundred yards from the entrance, however, and you were fair game again. With the tingle of DMZ’s protective shielding buzzing along her arms, Kira eased her bike into a parked row of other motorcycles. As long as the shield held, nothing and no one—magical or human—could touch her bike. The usual crowd milled around the steel and concrete industrial-looking entrance waiting their turn to enter, an eclectic mix of humans and half-breeds. Light and Shadow Adepts never had to queue up at the DMZ.