Sepia Blue- Nameless: A Sepia Blue Novel- Book 4 by Orlando Sanchez (small books to read .txt) 📕

She nodded.

“The patient flatlined for five seconds before we started, and then came back before we could start CPR. He flatlined again, this time for three seconds, and then returned again before we could administer epinephrine. By the time we completed the recall procedure, his vitals were stable, but he remained unresponsive. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“I have,” Rafael said, pushing open the door to Gan’s room. “Thank you, Deborah. Do you plan on doing anything with that DNP you hold?”

“Not enough space in my department for someone like me,” Deborah answered. “They tell me I’m overqualified.”

“We need more overqualified nurses, then.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Deborah said with a wave of her hand. “Too many chefs in the kitchen spoil the stew. I’m fine where I am. Besides, if I’m not here, who’s going to keep an eye on the doctors?”

“I have a feeling a few of those chefs will be needed elsewhere,” Rafael said. “When that happens, I’ll be looking for you. Thank you again, Deborah.”

She gave Rafael a short nod and headed down the corridor, leaving him alone with Gan.

Rafael closed the door behind him and approached the bed.

TWENTY-TWO

The old man hobbled over to the nimbus of black energy that coruscated with silver light. He touched the nimbus with his cane and it slowly dissipated, revealing the figure of a wounded man at its center. An angry red scar ran across one jaw.

Velos.

Velos groaned as the nimbus dissipated.

“Who…who are you?” Velos asked, looking around and touching his face. “The Hunter?”

“Gone. Good thing, too.” The old man pointed to Velos’ face with his cane. “Any longer and they may have finished the job. They wounded you.”

“A error in judgment on my part,” Velos said as he slowly stood. “I underestimated their tenacity.”

“Errors in judgment can shorten your life,” the old man said with a few nods. “Yes, sir. Making the wrong assessment at the wrong time…Well, that can get you right killed.”

“Who are you?” Velos asked, regaining some of his composure. “What do you want?”

“I’m the Smith, and you’re late. ” The old man pointed at Velos. “You were told to come straight to me, not go hunting.”

“I will not be chastised by some senior citizen,” Velos said flatly. “I have a Hunter and gunman to dispatch.”

“No,” Smith answered in his gravelly voice. “What you have is a delivery to make, so make it.”

“What, here?” Velos asked. “Now?”

“Two named blades and one Nameless,” Smith replied, leaning on his cane with both hands. “Now would be a good time, yes.”

“The two named blades are yours, but I will hold on to the Nameless.”

Velos extended an arm and two blades materialized on the ground next to him: Liberation and Salvation.

“You planning on bonding with it, then?” Smith asked matter-of-factly as he stretched out an arm and disappeared the two blades. “You’re bonded to a named blade—a dark blade. Can’t work both ways.”

“I’m planning on holding onto it until I see fit,” Velos answered, glaring down at the old man. “I may not be able to bond to it, but it’s too powerful to relinquish.”

“I see,” Smith said. “Did you understand the conditions when you were given the named blade?”

“Of course I understood the conditions,” Velos snapped. “I’m to destroy Sepia and her Hunter comrades patrolling the streets, while procuring the named blades they wield.”

“Sounds about right,” Smith said, rubbing his forehead. “Know what I don’t hear in those conditions?”

“What?”

“You keeping the Nameless for yourself,” Smith answered. “So I’m going to do the polite thing and ask again. You know why? Because it always pays to be nice first. Once you’re not nice, well, then it’s quite difficult to get people to believe you can be nice. Know what I mean?”

Velos formed Retribution.

“Are you senile, old man?” Velos asked as the dark nimbus of energy formed around him. “Are you looking to die tonight?”

“Did you understand the conditions of your employ?” Smith asked again. “I’m just trying to be thorough, here. Wouldn’t want there to be a misunderstanding. You did say you were keeping the Nameless?”

“Yes, I understood,” Velos said, losing his patience. “Yes, I’m keeping the Nameless. I also understand that you have asked your last question.”

Velos slashed horizontally, aiming to cut down the old man. Smith raised his cane and stopped Retribution without effort.

“Now, normally, when a young man such as yourself, full of vigor and bravado, issues a challenge like this—well, I feel it’s an obligation to respond,” Smith said. “However, like yourself, I have a sword to acquire, so I’m going to ask one more time. Will you hand over the Nameless, please and thank you?”

“Not tonight, old man,” Velos said, unleashing the nimbus of energy. “Tonight you die.”

The black cloud enveloped Smith, obscuring him from sight. Velos allowed the cloud to completely surround Smith for a span of ten seconds before removing it. When he did, Smith stood in the center of the black energy, untouched.

“You know what I was thinking,” Smith said, raising his cane and tapping his temple. “I’ve been remiss in my manners. I haven’t properly introduced myself; allow me to do so now.”

“Who are you?” Velos said, his voice holding a tinge of fear and uncertainty. “What are you?”

“I get special mention in all of the good books,” Smith answered with a slight bow. “This one is one of my favorites: Behold, I have created the smith who blows the fire of coals and produces a weapon for its purpose. I have also created the ravager to destroy. I am the Smith and I am the Ravager. Now hand me my sword or I will be obliged to take it from your corpse.”

Velos handed the scabbard holding Nameless to Smith.

“You’re him, aren’t you?”

“What gave it away?” Smith asked. “I bet it was surviving your little cloud of death.”

“That was a large hint, yes,” Velos answered. “That and your glowing eyes.”

“Ah,” Smith said. “Sometimes I forget myself; or, rather, I reveal my true self. These things