Shadow Blade Read Online Free PDF Page B

use the front door—or any door, for that matter. Kira normally used a private entrance herself, but not tonight. Tonight she had a point to make.
    One of the bouncers, a thick, tan-skinned man with nickel-sized holes in his ears, sniffed the air as she walked up. “You’ve got blood on you, Chaser,” he informed her, saying her title the way some women called another “bitch” before they started pulling each other’s hair.
    Kira curled the fingers of her left hand around the bloodied sleeve in her cargo pocket. It had been hard enough to leave Bernie’s scattered remains in the alley; she couldn’t throw away his blood like trash.
    She gave the bouncer a level stare, resisting the urge to wonder out loud if he had a dick. “So?”
    “Fine.” He shrugged and waved her in. As she walked past him, Kira wondered how his T-shirt stayed intact with so much muscle stretching the seams. “Check your weapons and stay out of the pit.”
    Right. Like she was that brand of stupid. Or suicidal. The DMZ’s mosh pit tended toward the vicious, populated as it was by beings who enjoyed snacking on humans as well as throwing them around. No one, human or hybrid, entered the pit unless they signed a waiver releasing the DMZ from all claims.
    She slipped past the bouncer, past the cashier who gave her a nod, and into the lobby of the DMZ. Restrooms flanked the double doors of the main-floor entrance. Scarred leather sofas crouched on a concrete floor near a smallish bar and the coat-check room, all presented in shades of gunmetal gray lit by black light. The only thing seemingly out of place was a large fish tank roughly six feet wide mounted in a side wall.
    At least that was the Normal view.
    Drawing on her extrasense, Kira watched the yellow-white glow of the DMZ’s protective aura shimmer into view. It ran in wide bars over every wall, corner, and door, far more reliable than any metal detector. She took another step into the lobby and the aura flashed an orange warning in response.
    The coat-check girl pasted a wide smile on her pale, almost gray face. “Please check your weapons with me.”
    The perky voice grated on Kira’s nerves, but she locked down her emotions. Demoz would have a field day if he knew how she felt and she had no intention of letting him feed off her. “No one touches my weapons.”
    The girl, half human, half something else, showed teeth this time. “You have a primed assault spell on you. That’s not allowed on the floor. The larger gun is okay, but the small one and the Lightblade are against regulations. You know the rule: You fire, you expire. Even Chasers need to check their weapons.”
    “Really?” Kira checked the protective shielding, then took another step forward. “Have you just come out of incubation? You and those T-shirts are new.”
    Perkiness dimmed as the girl glanced down at the neat stack of black shirts, with “I Survived the Pit” emblazoned on them in putrid green. “I don’t see what that has to do with—”
    The phone beside her rang. The girl picked up the phone, listened, then gulped, her head bobbing rapidly. “Yes, sir. Of course, sir.”
    She replaced the receiver. “Apologies, Chaser Solomon,” she said then, her voice almost humanly humble. “I didn’t realize you would use the main entrance. Mr. D welcomes you to the DMZ and asks that you please remove the assault spell.”
    “Yeah.” It was as close to charitable as Kira planned to get. Atlanta was her city—she was the only Shadowchaser in the Southeast U.S. If the girl could tell she was a Chaser, she had to know Kira was also the Chaser. She seriously doubted that any other Chasers who passed through town were five-foot-nine-inch black females with their hair in black and blue braids. It also made her wonder why Chasers were coming through her city long enough to use the DMZ without giving her at least a courtesy call. She’d have to look into that later.
    Kira unstrapped her watch, removing the