Seer's Blade

by Bowen Greenwood

Genres: Urban Fantasy; Sword & Sorcery

Synopsis

Demons are real. To fight them you need a Sword of the Spirit. But a blade answers only to one who knows the Word, and Ewan Baxter doesn't.

Not yet.

Ewan spends his workdays on Capitol Hill, and his evenings on the Washington D.C. cocktail circuit. Then he sees a woman become a horrifying apparition right before his eyes. Before he can even wonder what happened, Naomi Overstreet arrives on the scene to do battle with the thing, wielding a gleaming katana.

A sword. In the twenty-first century.

Seer's Blade transports you into a world of seers and demons, heaven and hell, and an eternal war between the two for the souls of people everywhere.

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Release date: December 4, 2025

Print pages: 225

Sample

Chapter 1

 

Designer labels peppered the room, bespoke suits and braided updos. The booze flowed like a river and so did the money, which was more important. My boss was running for the U.S. Senate, and that night we were raising funds for her campaign. Congresswoman Tori Kane had just given her speech—vote for me, please donate, etc.—which meant the crowd could go back to the most popular pastime in all of Washington, D.C.: gossip. In the neck and neck primary back home, every rumor about Tori or her opponent got picked over and savored like the finest of wines. I confess, I did my share of the savoring. I’m Ewan Baxter, and my official title is Legislative Director in the office of Representative Tori Kane, Member of Congress. But in the community of people who work on Capitol Hill, we just call ourselves staffers. It was Representative Kane’s home we were in for the fundraiser. Her elegant Georgetown townhouse stretched up three stories, with a polished mahogany banister lining a spiral staircase. A grand piano rested in one corner. Party guests packed the first floor from wall to tastefully decorated wall. I checked my reflection in a window, tucking a dark brown hair back into place. Freshly trimmed whiskers decorated my jaw. My jacket hung right. At a party like this, you never could tell when you might meet someone interesting, and I wanted to be prepared. My job was on the line just as much as Tori’s. Since she was on the ballot for Senate, she couldn’t be on the ballot for House. If she didn’t win, not only would her spot in the hierarchy of politics go away, but as her employee, so would mine. And if so . . . I didn’t really know. Politician wasn’t what I wanted to be when I grew up. But here I was, and it wasn’t a bad life. I called the congresswoman my boss earlier, but she was technically my boss’s boss. Between her and me was the Chief of Staff, and Penn Cooper looked like he’d be perfectly at home in a smoke-filled back room. Hairline easing back while his waistline inched forward, he could at least afford the clothes to make it look good. We’d been friends in high school. Since then, he’d gained a little weight and a lot of influence. “I can’t believe we might actually win this thing,” Penn said, walking up and putting another drink in my hand. Penn loved to win. I’d learned it the hard way back in high school when we used to compete in martial arts together. “Honestly, I thought the boss wasn’t hard-nosed enough to pull this off,” he went on. “Take the Cogswell business. She’s voting no when the polls say yes. Creed’s voting yes.” I nodded between sips of my drink. “The boss has reasons,” I replied, downing the rest of my scotch. The congresswoman thought Cogswell was just a bad bill, polls or no. I wasn’t going to tell Penn, but I agreed with her. “Don’t give your opponent a weakness to hit,” he quoted. “You remember what Sifu used to say back in the old Kaju days.” “I’ll never forget it, man. Those were good times.” I gave him a wry grin. Penn had beaten me the last time we’d sparred, years ago. He nodded at my empty glass. “Want another?” “OK with you if I head out instead?” I replied. “I’ve had more than my share already, and I’m starting to feel it.” Penn chuckled. “Got to learn to hold your liquor in this business, Ewan. No worries. See you tomorrow.” I lived in the poorer half of the same neighborhood and could walk home. I eased through the ornate front door and into the night. Dark clouds buried the moon, and a chill wind curled through the narrow gaps between row houses. Tie askew in my collar, I lurched unsteadily, one too many complimentary whiskies coursing through my veins. Long past midnight, streetlights created islands of warmth in a world where darkness reigned. The streetlights were warm. The girl was warmer. putrid snow. At its eyes, its mouth, its nose . . . flames. Dark flames. The flames of hell. I yelled and cursed in surprise. I backed up a step. In response, the thing grabbed at me. I dodged, misplaced my foot over the curb, and toppled, flopping down onto Q Street. The creature of smoke and flame flowed toward me, and the cold flowed with it. Still, it chanted its poisonous lullaby, “Take me home, protect me,” but its voice now screeched like a carrion bird. I bounded back to my feet, just like Sifu used to teach me. I backed away from its claws, curled my fists and put them up to cover my face. What was this thing? What had it done with the girl? What was going on? ...