Assassins Books Novels & Stories

While my father flops like a fish on the floor, I take his weapon, kick him in the head and reach for Taryn. Ava slumps against her wall, her eyes wide with shock. However, she looks unhurt, so I leave her and check on Taryn, Blood flows around both women like a pool. As an Assassin, I’ve seen a lot of death and have even caused some of them, but I have never felt fear as I do at this moment. Squatting down, I pull Tamsyn off Taryn.

I thought I could handle this on my own, thought I could bring Zephyr back without assistance because I’m her mate, but it's not enough. “Did you see the person? Did you see the assassin?” Avani snarls. I look at him, knowing this will hurt him nearly as much as it hurts me. “It’s Zephyr, Avani. She’s the assassin.” He falls back on his butt. “What? Are you sure?” he asks. I raise an eyebrow at him. “Why would she do this? Why would she kill these shifters?” Cedric asks. “They got to her,” Avani says as realization dawns on him and he looks at me. He and I have worked together long enough. We understand each other without words.

Over the roaring flames, the sounds of sirens and panicked voices mixed in a deafening symphony. Across the city, inside the vast, opulent mansion of the chairman of the assassin organization, AS01 paced furiously. His knuckles were white as he clenched his fists, resisting the urge to lash out at anything within reach. His eyes darted to AS02, who delivered the grim news.

Before they could pull their triggers, Asher vaulted off his saddle mid-stride. His body shifted instantly—his clothes tearing as a massive, silver-furred wolf burst into the moonlight. Asher slammed into two of the assassins at once, his heavy jaws snapping clean through iron armor and bone in a spray of blood. I launched myself off my horse, sliding low under the third assassin's swinging blade. I kicked out his back knee, driving my shortsword up into the gap of his leather tunic. He collapsed into the dirt with a ragged groan.

“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.

I could feel it clearly—life draining out of my ravaged body. When she'd had her fill, she climbed off me, satisfied. Her well-manicured fingers picked up a piece of silver from the table, then dropped it onto my face with disgust. "Useless thing," she sneered. "Bones so brittle. Can't even take a little roughhousing." The door creaked open. Vince Benedict, the brothel's manager, waddled in with his massive gut leading the way. He pinched the silver coin between his thick fingers and blew on it. Then he gave my limp leg a hard kick with his black cloth boot.

Let’s just say that it’s no coincidence the word starts with two asses, because one ass is not enough for those douche bags. So no, I’m not an assassin. I’m a professional serial killer, also known as a PSK. Assassins are lazy. Kill one terrorist with a sniper rifle from a hundred yards away and then disappear into the night without a trace. Boring. PSK’s make Murder for Hire an art form. Any Catholic schoolgirl can shoot a man or put poison in his scotch, but it takes real finesse to make Murder for Hire look like the workings of a deranged sociopath. Granted, it does help that most PSK’s are deranged sociopaths, but that is completely beside the point.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Note To The Readers: Samantha’s chemistry lab debacle and suspension incident has been written in detail in ‘Chapter 1: The Suspension’ in the book titled, “My Assassin Mate.” You can read it if you are interested to know more for curiosity sake. However, not reading it will not disturb the flow of this story. So keep reading and enjoy ! **

He took out the medicine kit he carried with him, then applied medicine and bandaged it to stop the bleeding. Jay bypassed the guards in the library and sneaked inside. After entering the 48 Stronghold compartment, Jay began searching for the register on the shelf. Suddenly, a tinge of crimson on a page of a book caught Jay's attention. He touched the crimson spot on the page with his finger and could feel the moisture on it. Jay was on his guard immediately. A wounded assassin was hiding up above. This was his speculation. In an instant, a ball of lightning flashed in Jay's mind. He exerted strength and smacked his hand on the bookshelf suddenly. An overwhelming murderous aura started beari

I took the blade from him and buried the silver blade in his stomach, but then I felt the other assassins surrounding me. I knew what came next; I had played this game before, but this time I was the prey, not the predator, and I knew how the story usually ends for the prey, even if one is as dangerous as I am. Another tried to grab me. I quickly ripped one of his hands off me and swiftly somersaulted to the far end, another charged at me and then ripped off the head of the next assassin who charged at me, watching his lifeless body fall to the ground. I was surrounded, but I was not going to beg like a rat; instead, I would die like a soldier, taking as many as I can to the after life.