Sera jumped forward to catch the rebound.
Though the big exterior rolling door was closed, the October cold leaked through the vaultlike room. Despite the icebox temperature reflected by the cinderblock walls, the league leader was stripped down to his jeans and a black vest, his shaggy black hair caught at his nape with an elastic tie. Of course, he had the glowing forge in the corner to warm him.
Liam Niall was a big man, which was not unusual for a talya. The monstrous hammer choked up in his wide palm only exacerbated the impression. He tapped out a delicate rhythm with the tool, belying its blunt force as he hunched over the anvil.
The hammering did get a bit more forceful as Sid approached. “You’re still alive,” Liam said. “I’m surprised.”
Surprised did not necessarily equal glad. Sid twisted his lips. “No doing of mine, I assure you.”
Liam smoothed the hammer one last time over the metal, then held up his work. The deer horn knife—two edged crescents interlocked so that the points gleamed outward toward the four cardinal directions—shimmered under the severe fluorescent lights with a stark and dangerous beauty.
Sid blinked. Etheric emanations sank into weapons just as the demonic energies brutally and exquisitely honed the bodies of the previously mortal hosts, much like Liam’s hammer worked the metal. Sid had studied printouts of the spectral analyses, but he’d never seen the evidence with his own eyes. Maybe he had never been so aware before, so personally affected by the outcome.
He blinked again, fascinated by the spangles that danced off the blades. How had he never noticed the way a beam of light poured down a finely honed metal edge? Certainly the Bookkeeper side of the equation had nothing so compelling. No dusty, stretched sheepskin, scrawled in ancient warnings, could match that shivery curvature of steel through air.
He blinked a third time and realized Liam was finally watching him, blue eyes steady and impassive.
Sid straightened, and the officious snap of his spine cut off the wayward fascination. “I would have been eaten by that feralis if not for the rogue female talya who came out of nowhere and saved my arse.”
While he quickly recapped the encounter, Liam’s gaze sharpened to rival the knife in his hand, as if Sid had finally shown himself to be interesting. “A rogue. In my city.” The blade glittered as he spun it between his fingers. “And female at that.”
Sid tensed at the threatening movement, and his shoulderprotested, though he kept his voice level. “An invaluable find.”
“For a Bookkeeper,” Liam countered. “A potential nightmare for the league. Do you know what that unbalanced energy does to the demons in this city? Repentant demon or tenebrae, it won’t matter in the face of such beguiling madness.” The teshuva’s mark at his temple flared violet with his heartbeat.
Sid averted his gaze before his own pulse could match the violence. From the time his father had inducted him into the Bookkeeper mysteries, he’d been taught not to follow the talyan in their torquing furies. Each had their place in the battle against evil; to confuse their roles was stupid, pointless, and often fatal—at least for the Bookkeepers.
So he tried to knock the sharp edge off his tone. He might have succeeded if he’d had a hammer bigger than Liam’s. “I don’t see how one woman—and she was tiny—makes things worse.”
Genuine amusement crinkled the
reven
next to Liam’s eye. “Didn’t your father exile you here because of a woman?”
The casual reference sliced through Sid like the multiple points of the deer horn knife, each one sharper than the last.
His father had told someone about that? Told a talya, of all people, even knowing the penalty of indiscretion?
“I would never reveal league confidences.” The words peeled from him as rusty and laced with pain as the soiled bandages back in his room.
Revealing himself had been the only
Though the big exterior rolling door was closed, the October cold leaked through the vaultlike room. Despite the icebox temperature reflected by the cinderblock walls, the league leader was stripped down to his jeans and a black vest, his shaggy black hair caught at his nape with an elastic tie. Of course, he had the glowing forge in the corner to warm him.
Liam Niall was a big man, which was not unusual for a talya. The monstrous hammer choked up in his wide palm only exacerbated the impression. He tapped out a delicate rhythm with the tool, belying its blunt force as he hunched over the anvil.
The hammering did get a bit more forceful as Sid approached. “You’re still alive,” Liam said. “I’m surprised.”
Surprised did not necessarily equal glad. Sid twisted his lips. “No doing of mine, I assure you.”
Liam smoothed the hammer one last time over the metal, then held up his work. The deer horn knife—two edged crescents interlocked so that the points gleamed outward toward the four cardinal directions—shimmered under the severe fluorescent lights with a stark and dangerous beauty.
Sid blinked. Etheric emanations sank into weapons just as the demonic energies brutally and exquisitely honed the bodies of the previously mortal hosts, much like Liam’s hammer worked the metal. Sid had studied printouts of the spectral analyses, but he’d never seen the evidence with his own eyes. Maybe he had never been so aware before, so personally affected by the outcome.
He blinked again, fascinated by the spangles that danced off the blades. How had he never noticed the way a beam of light poured down a finely honed metal edge? Certainly the Bookkeeper side of the equation had nothing so compelling. No dusty, stretched sheepskin, scrawled in ancient warnings, could match that shivery curvature of steel through air.
He blinked a third time and realized Liam was finally watching him, blue eyes steady and impassive.
Sid straightened, and the officious snap of his spine cut off the wayward fascination. “I would have been eaten by that feralis if not for the rogue female talya who came out of nowhere and saved my arse.”
While he quickly recapped the encounter, Liam’s gaze sharpened to rival the knife in his hand, as if Sid had finally shown himself to be interesting. “A rogue. In my city.” The blade glittered as he spun it between his fingers. “And female at that.”
Sid tensed at the threatening movement, and his shoulderprotested, though he kept his voice level. “An invaluable find.”
“For a Bookkeeper,” Liam countered. “A potential nightmare for the league. Do you know what that unbalanced energy does to the demons in this city? Repentant demon or tenebrae, it won’t matter in the face of such beguiling madness.” The teshuva’s mark at his temple flared violet with his heartbeat.
Sid averted his gaze before his own pulse could match the violence. From the time his father had inducted him into the Bookkeeper mysteries, he’d been taught not to follow the talyan in their torquing furies. Each had their place in the battle against evil; to confuse their roles was stupid, pointless, and often fatal—at least for the Bookkeepers.
So he tried to knock the sharp edge off his tone. He might have succeeded if he’d had a hammer bigger than Liam’s. “I don’t see how one woman—and she was tiny—makes things worse.”
Genuine amusement crinkled the
reven
next to Liam’s eye. “Didn’t your father exile you here because of a woman?”
The casual reference sliced through Sid like the multiple points of the deer horn knife, each one sharper than the last.
His father had told someone about that? Told a talya, of all people, even knowing the penalty of indiscretion?
“I would never reveal league confidences.” The words peeled from him as rusty and laced with pain as the soiled bandages back in his room.
Revealing himself had been the only
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