Assassin's Apprentice Audiobook Novels & Stories

One of the things that makes him a good assassin is not just that his job is clean but he makes sure that there are no witnesses. Coast clear, he put his ear to the door and listened. The possibility of walking into a trap had occurred to him and he wasn't taking any chances. All he could hear we're loud music. What! he exclaimed in his mind frowning. Is his opponent celebrating his victory? He looked down at his info and realized something he missed. The guy was a novice. He felt a little insulted that they petted him against a newbie. Several thoughts on how to proceed flashed across his mind, but he settled on letting the guy have his moment then he can go in and crash his party.

the moment detective Levi heard that name, he felt his mind spinning around and echoes of the assassin voice in his head speaking, “It is impossible! I know you!!” detective Levi stated.

The smiling faces of three people who were making a picture-perfect family. My eyes caught the attention of the identity card that had her details. Iris Ivanov. "Iris...." My tongue rolled out her name. "Iris Ivanov....." I mumbled her name again with glitter in my eyes. Didn't know why her name felt so unique to me. "Daughter of Yuri Ivanov, the renowned Assassin." Igor completed her identity and I couldn't stop myself from mumbling the next words. "Welcome to my hell, my dear Assassin's Daughter."

I dropped my mug next to the clean ones and turned to face him. Just as I put my hands on my hip, wanting to ask him if everything was okay, he took one last sip of his coffee, slammed the mug on the counter, muttered, "Good day, Kayla." Then he walked out through the back door, leaving me breathless and gobsmacked. "Good day to you too, asshole." I muttered under breath as he slammed the back door. ~~~~~ Restless energy and annoyance caused by Gabriel's attitude yesterday and today pushed me to take a walk alone.

His scream choked off in his throat before he fell face-first into the sand, twitching once, then still. Silence… Only one remained. … The Assassin leader cracked his neck slowly, the sound echoing like breaking timber. He flexed his wrists, hopped lightly on his toes. His boots dragged across the sand as his eyes burned with hatred. The crowd stirred. Anana’s white gaze locked on him. The duel began. The leader struck first. He was fast… faster than the assassins before him. His blades gleamed as they darted and sliced. He struck from the left, from the right, overhead, underhand. His body moved with a predator’s grace, venom dripping from his steel claws.

“You've got news?” He stepped closer. “My men are on the assassin’s trail. We’ve narrowed his movements to the east sector. A safehouse. Nothing official, but the kind of place rats crawl into when the world grows too hot. It won’t be long before we have him pinned.” Satisfaction rolled through me. I nodded once. The simplicity of the plan was poetry. No loose ends, no questions, only fire, ash, and silence. But then a sound drifted upward, faint at first, then clearer. Voices, carried through the grand staircase and marble halls like echoes.

I screamed. I dived for the gold scroll, my fingers brushing the cold metal just as the sphere shattered against the mahogany. Black fire erupted. It didn't produce heat; it produced a soul-searing cold that turned the wood to ash instantly. The flames were a deep, bruised purple, eating through the parchment on the desk with a hungry hiss. Harrison roared, a sound that shook the very foundation of the archives. He grabbed the assassin by the throat, his fingers digging into the charcoal rags. The assassin pulled a jagged bone-knife from his belt and drove it into Harrison’s side.

But if this man-boy, I hated calling him that, but I have yet to have him divulge a name, thinks he will live, he's sorely mistaken. Rule number one of being an assassin is to show no mercy. We learned, as kids, that if you show mercy, you get stabbed in the back. The weak get killed, and in our world, there is no time for weakness. That sounds totally laughable since we're both here pretending to basically be pussies. I hated this fucking shit. If it were up to me, I would've ended this all on the first night we were here. But oh no, Commander Rourke wanted us to play the long game.

Craig Pov I angrily dropped my two fists on the top of my desk. I had already met the assassin but I unintentionally let him go. He was already in front of me but I had no idea that he was the Silent Assassin I had been looking for, for a long time. Maybe he's laughing at me now because of my stupidity. And this idea makes me even angrier.

I said as I gently picked up the knife that had fallen beside me. Before becoming a professional assassin, you must attend several training sessions in order to master all of the techniques that an assassin must know and study, and one of those techniques is that when one area of your body is vulnerable, you must think of another strategy to strike your opponent. "B*tch, don't be too arrogant or you'll end up at Satan's door!" My assailant had laughed at my confidence once more. "Oh please, don't joke about it because you'll regret it, I swear," I said to my assailant, "because you'll be the one to wind up on Satan's doorstep, honey," I said coldly.