The Crown of Gilded Bones (Blood and..

She was no servant. If the clothing hadn’t given that
fact away, the crescent-shaped blades she held at her sides
would have—blades the shiny black of shadowstone.
It was also the mask painted—or inked—in a deep
reddish-black. A disguise that obscured most of her features
as it traveled above her eyebrows, reaching her hair, and
then swept below her eyes—eyes that were such an
unbelievably pale shade of silver-blue, they appeared nearly
leached of color—before stretching nearly to her jaw on
either side. Wings. The mask looked like the wings of a bird
of prey across the olive skin of her face.
Was she a…a Handmaiden? I wasn’t sure, but I knew
she was no vampry. She had emotions. I could feel them
behind thick mental walls.
“Hello,” she said rather politely. “We’ve been waiting for
you.”
I reached for the wolven dagger as Delano shot forward,
thrusting out with his bloodstone sword—
The young woman was ungodly quick, a blur of lacy
black and deep crimson as she spun under Delano’s arm,
snapping up to trap his arm between hers and his body as
she twisted, hooking one leg around his waist. She spun
again, forcing his body to turn away from her. Within a
heartbeat, she had one crescent-shaped blade under his
chin and the other pressed against his stomach.
None of us moved.
I think we were all a bit stunned by what we had just
witnessed.
“Let him go,” Casteel spoke in that powerful,
commanding voice, the one that compelled a response.
“Now.”
She looked at him. “I will when I’m good and ready.”
Shock flickered through Casteel and me. This woman
wasn’t susceptible to compulsion. My heart turned over
heavily.