Spikes on gloves

I had spikes on my glove, that started at rings on the fingers and extended back toward my wrist, almost flat against my hand. The points now rested against the most vulnerable part of her throat.

I saw her expression change. Ten emotions in a matter of two or three seconds.

"Don't even think about it," I told her.

"More will come," she said. "He has an army."

"And we have you," I said. I reached up to my shoulder, my finger tracing the spikes there. Nothing. I checked my breastplate, where tines radiated up from the icon just above my sternum. I found a loose one and snapped it off.

The point still pressed against her throat, I led her to a standing position. Then we walked, me holding the long spire of gold-layered steel against her jugular.

- Gleaming 9.11