The Dragon's Mark (Rogue Angel, Book 26)
Alex Archer, Joseph Nassise
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Archaeologist Annja Creed and her sword have never been outmatched--until now. An assassin known as the Dragon wields a bloodthirsty sword that should be feared. Eventually the two swords must meet, and only one shall triumph.
good job of keeping it out of sight. People had seen her with it—there was no doubt about that—but she’d been confident that no one had ever seen her draw the sword out of the otherwhere. Or, at least, no one had seen her draw it and lived to tell the tale. So how had the Dragon known to come looking for her? Did his sword act like her own, providing the occasional flash of intuition or gentle nudge in the right direction? Had the Dragon come to Roux’s estate for some other reason, only to turn
carried it—could she have seen it then? In a museum or an art book? Maybe a research site on the Internet? There was really no way to know. The other solution—that it wasn’t something she had seen, but a memory from another time and another place—freaked her out more than she expected. She had always known that there was a reason the sword had chosen her, but having it do so because she was…what? A descendant? A distant blood relative? Or even crazier yet, the reincarnation of Joan herself?
it even gleamed with hunger whenever it drew close to its enemies.” Annja turned her eye inward until she could see Joan’s sword, her sword, hanging there in the otherwhere, waiting for her to need it again. The blade glowed with a faint luminescence. Did the Dragon’s blade do that? she wondered. “Unlike other swordsmiths, Muramasa never etched designs into the blades of his katana. He felt that it was doing the weapon a disservice to deface it in such a manner. But he made an exception with
The katana was old; she could tell just by looking at it. The blade was too sharp, the etching too exquisite, for it to have been made in the modern era. Toshiro had taught her to recognize the old blades, those actually fashioned during the samurai period itself, and she had no doubt that this one originated from that time frame. Just beneath the hilt, a dragon had been etched lovingly into the blade’s surface. It was lunging forward, its front claws reaching toward the pointed end of the
coming out of the corner of her eye, Annja shifted her hold on her weapon and struck out at the hilt of her enemy’s. Their swords slammed together and the Muramasa blade rang like a crystal bell in the second before it flew out of Shizu’s grasp, tumbling through the air. Annja hadn’t expected the maneuver to work. The Dragon was shocked. She turned her head to watch the blade go flying from her. Afraid that Shizu would simply call her weapon back again, just as Annja regularly did with her own