The Werewolf Dates The Deputy - Kristen Painter Page 0,36
light as you move.”
“It is. Because it’s not ink.” She glanced over her shoulder at him, loving the curiosity in his eyes. “It’s…hard to explain. Better I just show you, I guess.”
Just talking about the weapon made it vibrate with anticipation, its bladesong dancing through Jenna with a happy trill.
“How old were you when you got it?”
“I was born with it. We all are.”
He pondered that a moment. “Then you didn’t have a choice in being a valkyrie. Just like I didn’t have a choice in being a werewolf.”
She nodded. “In that, we are alike.”
“We’re alike in a lot of ways.”
So she’d been told. She just smiled. “Do you want to see it, then?”
He nodded. “I do.”
She reached back and felt the hilt solidify in her hand. An electric current zipped over her skin. The sensation wasn’t something she’d felt in a while. It was Helgrind’s anticipation at being unsheathed.
On the job, her service weapon was the only thing she used. Wasn’t like she could go around brandishing a sword, despite her proficiency with the blade. Sad, really, that Helgrind didn’t get to come out for more than practice.
Jenna liked that Titus seemed so interested. “Step back a little.”
He did as she asked, still looking very eager.
She tightened her grip on the hilt. Then pulled the sword free.
Titus had never known the hiss of metal could have such a sweet, melodious sound to it, but that’s exactly what he heard as Jenna unsheathed her sword.
It was bigger than he’d expected, gleaming bright with an almost blue-white light that made it seem like a living thing. Set in the pommel was a blue-green stone that seemed to have a beam of light deep within its smooth-polished heart. Other than that, the sword was unadorned. But it didn’t need anything more.
“Wow,” he breathed again. “It’s a work of art. What’s the stone in the handle?”
“Just glass,” she said.
“It’s beautiful all the same. But I guess that makes sense, considering who owns it.”
A look of disbelief filled Jenna’s eyes for a moment. “You think my sword is beautiful because…”
“You’re beautiful. Yes. I do.” He was done resisting the spell, done pretending he didn’t like her. That he wasn’t attracted to her. Done with anything close to lying. Especially after learning that she’d been hurt by someone she’d cared for. It wasn’t his job to heal that wound for her, but he certainly wasn’t going to add to it.
And if he could give her some happiness by being kinder, by being truthful, then that was an easy thing for him to do.
Plus, she was standing in front of him, holding a deadly weapon. Now was the perfect time to start being complimentary, if ever there was one.
“Oh,” she said softly. “We, um, that is, valkyries generally are naturally attractive, so that’s really just genes—”
“Can I hold it?” He’d rather change the subject than hear her discount his compliment.
She smiled. “No. I mean, you can try, but the sword won’t let you.”
His brow wrinkled. “The sword won’t let me.”
“Nope. Helgrind is pretty picky about who lays hands on her. Basically just me.”
“Helgrind?”
Jenna nodded. “Means hell gate.”
His eyes widened just a little. “That seems appropriately intimidating. But how do you know Helgrind won’t like me? Maybe she wants me to hold her.”
She laughed and held the sword out, freeing her hand from the hilt so that she was only holding it between her thumb and forefinger. “Be my guest.”
“Really?”
“Sure.”
He wrapped his hand around the hilt. The metal thrummed with its own energy. “I can feel the magic in it.”
She nodded, looking very pleased. “It’s really something, isn’t it?”
“It is.”
“Got it? I’m going to let go.”
He tightened his grip. “I have it.”
She was almost laughing now. “You sure?”
He got the sense she was playing with him. “Yes.”
“Okay.” She took her hand away.
The sword vanished.
“Hey.” He looked around. “Where is it? What kind of trick is that?”
She turned to show him her back. The sword once again ran from the edge of her hairline down her spine, disappearing beneath the waistband of her gym shorts. When she twisted to face him, her eyes were alive with amusement. “Told you.”
“So the sword only exists if your hand is on it?”
“No.” She reached back and brought the blade out again, then walked over to his workbench and laid it down. “It can exist without me. It’s absolutely real on its own.”
“I see that.”
She stepped away. “Go ahead, pick it up.”
“Pretty sure I know how this turns out.” The moment his