By Steve Perry
She is a sensei and he's a Matador, priceless of her four-hundred-year-old blade. Their in simple terms wish for survival and vengeance opposed to their hidden, well-protected enemy lies within the power of black steel...
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Extra resources for Black Steel (Matador, Book 7)
He blinked uncomprehendingly at the grey sky. It seemed much more difficult to get things done now that he was dead. Cabal pulled a little black book from his pocket, drew a pencil from its spine, and made a note. Batch 247 seemed to act quickly, but it certainly didn’t help co-ordination in any practical sense. With hindsight, perhaps he should have made some effort to take their souls on a more formal basis as the first donors of the hundred. That he hadn’t was partially down to not being quite sure how one actually sets about taking souls on a more formal basis, but mainly because they had peeved him.
He knew he’d regret it in the morning, but he just wanted to get this whole situation over and done with as quickly as possible. Dennis was shaking his head slowly as he ran through the contingency plans. They’d never made any, so it didn’t take very long. They had considered making some, but, then, they’d also considered getting drunk at the same time. If they had ever actually come up with a contingency plan—and there is no evidence that they did—they had forgotten it again somewhere around the tenth pint.
Said Satan with total innocence. “… I have no grasp of what is involved in this ‘carnival’ business, and I am hardly gregarious. ” There was silence for a long moment. Satan’s periods of good nature—in common with many managerial types—lasted precisely up until the moment he was challenged. He scowled monstrously, the smile falling from his face like a greased pig off a church roof. Quickly, over a period of seconds, the lava lake cooled. The glowing red rock turned dirty grey and then black.
Black Steel (Matador, Book 7) by Steve Perry