Page 67 of Coerced

When I asked him where his primary weapon was, he manifested a Japanese-style sword.

“You don’t carry arealone?”

“Nah. ’S easier to make one. No one gets curious about a big stick poking up over your shoulder.”

That was why I carried a pair of short swords on my back. Under a coat or jacket, they were all but invisible to human eyes.

“But doesn’t it drain you to maintain it while you’re fighting?” I raised my eyebrows when he only gave me a blank look. “Youdoget drained, right?”

“Can’t say I’ve hit the bottom of the tank yet. Seen other people drained, though. Don’t think Iwannaknow how that feels.”

I blinked. Clem had said this kid was a beast unlike any he’d ever known. I have to admit that I was intrigued, but also skeptical. Until I found out what Kerry Harker was like for myself, I’d reserve judgment.

“What if you’re in combat with a creature that can shut your power down?” I asked. “You don’t have a back-up?”

For answer, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a pocket knife.

“Got this.” He passed it over to me. “Be careful opening it.”

It was no kid’s pocket knife for carving sticks and prying open lids. The partially serrated blade was about four inches long and as black as the handle except for the silver edge. I had no doubt it was razor sharp. I liked the weight of it in my hand and the balance was exceptional.

“Very nice.” I closed it and gave it back. “I may need to pick one of those up.”

“If you ever go to New York City, I can give you the name of a neph who can build you anything you want.”

“How much do knives like that sell for?” Gemma asked.

“Five hundred for the knife and a grand to add concealment. It’s not the right weapon for you, angel, so don’t worry about it.”

She opened her mouth to retort, but John spoke first.

“Question. Why do most warriors use knives and swords? Why not guns?”

“Guns don’t always work,” Kerry and I said at the same time, then looked at each other.

I waved one hand to let him know he could explain it, but he shook his head.

“A gun can’t kill everything Diabolical,” I explained. “To even do damage, you have to hit it under its armor, usually in the stomach area. Plus, guns are hard to get past police, and they’re noisy. Humans can sometimes hear them firing, even ones made from pure power.”

When I said that, Kerry manifested a nine millimeter in one hand and bullets in the other. He loaded the gun with an efficiency that told me he had a lot of experience doing so.

“Also, if you run out of ammo,” I continued with one eye on the gun, “you need to manifest bullets, which takes power, too. After a while, you’ve sunk more power into keeping the gun and making bullets that may or may not kill what you’re fighting than if you would have simply drawn your sword and cut off its head.”

“I don’t like guns.” Gemma stared at the one in Kerry’s hand with wide eyes.

“So that’s the real reason.” John’s face stayed as deadpan as his voice. “Warriors around the world avoid guns because Gemma Shepherd doesn’t like them.”

She whacked him on the shoulder, and he cut his eyes down at her with a small smile. Kerry watched them as he dissolved the weapon and ammo, but didn’t contribute to their humor. He didn’t strike me as the kind to joke around, and I got the feeling he didn’t play.

He was, to my surprise, receptive to learn anything I cared to teach him. I’d thought he would be arrogant and have an ‘I’ve seen it all and done it all’ attitude, but he always thanked me and asked if I could teach him more. Most of the time, I had to work hard to hide my surprise.

“You know, Rome,” Chance said as we sat around the campfire the second night, “he’s not a bad guy. As long as Spin doesn’t get too close to Gemma. And as long as no one gets too close to him. The first issue is entirely Spin’s fault. The second makes sense, I guess, for someone who wasn’t in control of his own body for a decade.”

I nodded, but didn’t say anything. In his introduction, Jax had explained no one was to touch Kerry. Not anywhere and not for any reason. Spin had started to joke around, asking if he should let Kerry die rather than touch him if that was the situation, and Jax had looked him dead in the eye and said yes.

“Kerry’s my best friend, and he still nearly fried me when I slipped up.” Jax wore a sheepish grin.

“If John wasn’t such a fast thinker, you’d be dead.” Gigi’s narrowed eyes made it plain she still hadn’t forgiven him for the incident. Then she looked at me. “It’s a conditioned response he’s working hard to correct. He hasn’t made too much progress yet, but he’s only been free … what? Six months? It’s a drive that’s going to take a long time to reverse.”

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