Novel & Cerita Assassin Books

“Then I guess we better give him what he wants. Rogue, take out the needles.” Rogue gives me a knowing smile before he opens up a satchel and removes several six-inch needles. The needles look like knitting needles, but instead of hooks at the end, they’re sharp and extremely painful. Rogue was the first Assassin that I brought on when I became the South American Board Director. The first thing I taught Rogue was how to use the needles for the purpose of torture. I use the needles to dig them into vital organs, which causes slow, excruciating pain to run through my victim’s nervous systems. It’s a very painful way to die. Rogue prefers to use a gun, but I enjoy my needles.

The Quicksilver assassin stood slowly but continued to stare down at Casper’s bloody lump of a body. The commotion was noticed by Azreal and as the Alpha began making his way toward Jay, he caught sight of the carnage beneath his assassin and began to pick up speed. As Jay and Azreal reached Mj the assassin calmly stepped away from her victim and looked at her brother, “you are wrong about me Jay,” she stated in an eerily calm voice and slowly strolled toward the car.

“Jesus! That kid never runs out of energy, does he?” A chuckle escapes my lips at his amazement. “Connor is definitely in a league of his own.” Declan looks down at his feet then back at me. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he looks nervous. Licking my lips, I lift my knees to my chest, wrap my arms around them and take a deep breath. “What are you?” I ask the question that has been niggling in the back of my mind since she showed up at the mansion. His brow quirks, but he maintains an even expression. “What do you mean?” Puffing out a breath, I throw back the covers and rise from the bed. “Wow,” I mutter out in disbelief. “Are we really going to play this game, Declan? Well, let me brea

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!"

I could not help but ask. Assassins are also called death squads because of their fierce loyalty. In their books, it is either them or their target would die. There was never a time when an assassin was bought by the other party. Upon hearing my question, Lewis’ eyes twinkled even more like a young boy who was eager to show off, before saying, “Don’t worry. I already caught and tampered their souls.”

Gabriel said, “I didn’t much want to be alive. Ten years of waiting, not knowing if the pull would ever lead anywhere. So I found the most dangerous work I could.” She waited. “I was an assassin, Honor. A professional killer. I took contracts — targets — and I eliminated them. That was my life for the better part of a decade.” She stopped walking. He stopped too, hands in his pockets, and let her look at him. Let her take the time she needed to put it together, to decide what she thought of it. He’d learned enough about her to know that rushing her to a reaction she hadn’t fully formed would only make it worse.

But I didn't, not when all I was focused on as she started to circle the edge of my desk, was bending her ass over my desk and screwing my self into her body and soul, leaving her wrecked only to fix her back together. Kayla walked between me and the desk, the smell of orange blossom and vanilla filling my nose as she lifted her ass onto my desk, legs dangling just in front of my knees. "If this is what it'll take to stop you from breathing down my neck, then sure." she said softly. Locking her eyes with mine, she slipped her sandals off her feet, her tits spilled over her dress in the process, giving me more than an eye-full of her pale, milky tits.

My fingers gripped his neck, piercing his skin. "Let me die," he muttered. "Like death will give you relief," I spat. "And I already know they are alive! What are the names of the nobles?" Broderick opened his mouth, but instead of telling me the name I needed to hear, his breath fell from his lungs and into my face. His heart stopped, and his eyes rolled into the back of his head. "Oh, a record," the Assassin said passively as he tapped his watch. "FUCK!" I threw Broderick's body to the ground. My foot kicked into his side until sweat beaded on my brow. Taking one of the Assassin's knives, I stabbed Broderick's heart repeatedly until I was pulled away. "Fucking hell! Let me go!"

I have so many unanswered questions about this mysterious assassin. I spent the next week preparing for the formal event while also gathering what I could about assassins that were known. None of the information told me anything. I got a few well-known female assassin names. The number one was Phantom Reaper, second was Blade of Bracken (named after this city, Bracken’s Rock), and third was simply Death. Not very original, that one. By evening, it’s time for me to attend this despicable gala to network and attempt to secure funding for my next research project. I dress sharply in a black tuxedo, my white dress shirt is crisp, and I wear a neatly knotted black tie. My hair is usually always a

Chapter 49 Cass The assassin comes back for me, and it’s obvious I’m his target. I don’t have time to worry about anyone else; fighting erupts around Warrick, and chaos breaks out near Colt’s side of the table. He lunges again, and I catch another one trying to reach me too, but Victor and Serge cut him off before he gets close. I dodge the first assassin’s strike, deflect his knife, and land a punch across his jaw. He stumbles but recovers fast. I back up, hit a table, and my hand closes around a vase. Instinct takes over. I smash it over his head. He reels, and I drive a kick into his stomach. The man doubles over, and I bring my knee up hard into his face. He drops, clutching his nose, ju