Assassin Book Series Novels & Stories

I don't want anything from anyone. My sister was dead. The thought kept circling in my head, over and over, like a song I couldn't stop playing. Dead. Zylara was dead. Gone. Never coming back. Even when I'd been working as an assassin all these years, there was never any threat on my sister or me. It was always a clean job - get in, do what needed to be done, get out. Nobody ever came after me. Nobody ever knew who I was. So why is Cassius's situation different? Why do I have to suffer for his bad work? For his mistakes?

“Guess you can see that for yourself.” I remained silent, my expression unreadable. I started toward the door, but Casey shifted, blocking my path. “You know,” he said, voice casual, “I’m actually glad he’s gone.” That made me pause. My eyes narrowed slightly, a silent demand for him to continue. Casey’s lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “I knew what you were from the beginning. Assassin. A famous one, at that.” He tilted his head, watching me carefully. “I always wanted to warn Gerald, tell him exactly what kind of woman he was dealing with. But I didn’t, because I was afraid.”

The name Condor wasn’t among them, and yet The House of Assassins accepted him as one of their own from day one. Should’ve stopped there. Maybe they just made an exception for him, but curiosity got the better of him. So he looked and looked until he found the register of the founding families of The House of Assassins. And now it was all he could see when he closed his eyes. Him opening that stupid book. Aaron raising his voice brought James to him. “Dude, calm down, you’re losing your shit. What is going on with you? What happened here? What happened in Venatores?” James implored, gripping Aaron by the arms as he watched his brother’s crazed eyes burn with rage.

“But we are what was left behind.” One of the others a tall, eyeless man whose skin shimmered like broken glass spoke in a voice that echoed with dozens of tones. “You killed the Quill.” “I did.” “You shattered the pen,” said a girl with birds instead of hair. “I had to.” “And now,” whispered the assassin twins in perfect harmony, “the stories must write themselves.” Ashen stepped closer, page extended. “Give me a name.” “What?” “A real one,” she said. “Not Ashen. That was your placeholder. Give me something meant to last.”

The assassin pulled a jagged bone-knife from his belt and drove it into Harrison’s side. I saw the flash of red on Harrison’s shirt. The scent of woodsmoke and heated copper filled the room. "Harrison!" "Get the scroll out!" Harrison yelled. He slammed the assassin against a bookshelf, the wood splintering. Books tumbled down like a landslide of history. "Go!"

“We are the proof they want to erase.” My stomach twists. I think of the arrows that came from nowhere. “That attack on you… Was that the purist faction?” “We haven’t been able to find anything out about that.” Frustration bleeds into his words. “Whoever sent those assassins covered their tracks well.” I reach for another book, this one smaller, leather-bound. The title catches my eye: A Compendium of Magical Bloodlines. I flip it open and skim the pages until two words jump out at me.

So far, you have met or 'heard of' (ahem) the major leads, and now book two will be centred on: Daisy, Erden, Kassian, Bryant, the demon, a bit of travelling to different continents with Isaac and more of fierce Vivanna, lol, unfortunately, the bumbling and uncertain Vivanna dies in book one and comes back far more villainous in book two. I’d also like to thank you so much for reading. Undercover_Ostritch

It was just like opening a window into a life she no longer belonged to. “I get it.” Her voice cracked. “This whole thing is insane. And it’s not over yet, is it?” “No,” he said quietly. “It’s not.” She looked up at him, tears brimming in her eyes. “Why me, Nicholas? Why did this happen to me?” He didn't know what to say. He was fascinated by the coincidence of the striking resemblance of Amelia and Allison and the fact she was the one who witnessed the assassination. Something was telling him it was Adrian's handwork though he didn't have any proof.

“We live happily ever after.” “An ex-assassin and a vengeful killer?” I asked. “I couldn’t think of anyone more deserving,” he responded.

“Ah, dear niece, so this is what an average day in the life looks like… waltzing with your kill and staring right into their eyes right before you snuff the light out of it… brilliant!” It was obvious he wanted a reaction out of her, and on a very good day, he would have gotten nothing, but today wasn’t exactly going as planned for the plus-sized assassin. Barbara moved with a speed that would have stunned the girl she used to be. In one fluid motion, she was behind him. She didn't bother shedding the server's jacket; she simply reached beneath it. The cold steel of a ceramic knife was pressed firmly against the pulse point of his neck before he could say another word.