Black Mercy Novels & Stories

(The world pauses entirely around her for a moment as she seems to be gathering energy and attempting to focus on her powers despite screaming frantically. Narrator: "So I can only imagine you're wondering how we got to this point, because this seems like a pretty tumultuous situation. So let's back it up a bit and explain a few things. First off: Hi! I'm your narrator, Kimora Sylvaburn." (The screen does a close up on her falling screaming face.) "Yeah that's totally me there... messed up situation huh? The last time we did this you guys kind of got a bit of a rushed story about us. That's my fault. The snack was tasty so I ate the whole thing without leaving a second thought. This time aro

I said, but not before pressing a kiss to her forehead. The others were gathered near the bikes when a sharp burst of static cut through the silence. Someone had left a club frequency scanner running. Victor’s voice boomed out, charismatic and ruthless as ever, the broadcast wide across every channel the Serpents and fringes monitored. “Brothers and sisters of the Iron Serpents,” Vex snarled, his tone dripping with false sorrow. “My own blood has betrayed us. Raine ‘Blackjack’ Mercer and her lapdog, that ex-military scum Cole Maddox, are traitors. They murdered Lieutenant Marcus in cold blood to cover their tracks. Anyone with information on their whereabouts gets ten grand and my personal f

But to reap their karma. To show them what all evil they did in their lives and make them pay for it. No one was a saint. Everyone there knew have done some evil for once in their lives. And today, they all will pay for it. " Mer-cy! Mer-..." That's it. Elora's cry stops in between. As her eyes start turning bitch black. Her body entering into tremors, like it was in a state of shock. And then. Nothing. Her thrashing seizes. Body drops limb and eyes as black as night go still .

If I was a monster, then sacrificing me for Chloe was an act of justice, not a cold-blooded murder of my soul. "Look at me," Lucian commanded, his voice trembling with a dark, dangerous tension. I didn't blink. I looked straight into the black depths of his eyes, letting him see the total, absolute emptiness left inside me. There was no love there anymore. No fear. Just a vast, frozen wasteland.

I look at Beggar as her other leg moves, her hair fanned out behind her, her dirt covered face is scrunched in a slight frown. Her eyes open and they look right at me, and it takes Mercy pulling me away to drop my gaze to the floor. “She's up and safe, she's not your families problem any longer, as agreed Amariya DeMarco is dead, and Beggar is property of The Satan Sniper's, I owe you and your family nothing,” Rib says to whoever he is talking to on the phone. “Take your cut out, I'm going to have to cut open your sleeve, it's sticking to the wound,” Mercy says, producing a black handle hunters knife from her cargo pants.

Abel calmly elaborated. "Says a guy who single-handedly took out a whole army of rebels in Congolese 10 years ago", Jenny replied with a little chuckle. "Abel Mordecai Oliz, 35 years of Age. Ex-Mercenary going with the disguise name The Merc and later joined the CIA. But resigned 5 years ago. Favorite color is blue. Lost both wife and daughter right before his eyes in the bus taking them to the airport for a planned vacation at Hawaii. Still haven't had his revenge, because he is yet to figure out who is behind the Assassination." Jenny elaborated with a stern gaze.

But this time, the terrifying, absolute image was completely different. A massive, heavily armed mercenary aggressively dressed entirely in absolute black tactical gear stood completely directly over his mother's deeply unconscious, fragile body. The brutal mercenary casually held a massive, heavily rusted pair of industrial bolt cutters completely directly over the thick, heavy plastic ventilator tube actively forcing artificial air into her severely failing lungs. Aryan’s wildly erratically beating heart violently dropped entirely into his heavily starved stomach. A raw, pathetic whimper of pure, absolute, unadulterated terror violently escaped his actively bleeding, heavily blistered lips

Daniel frowned. “What are they talking about?” Mercer answered quietly. “Black Hollow had another purpose.” “It wasn’t only trafficking children.” “It was keeping the ones they couldn’t sell.” Elena stared in horror. “They kept them underground…” “For years.” Mercer lowered his head. “They called it the Nursery.” The word made everyone sick. A little boy, no older than six, stumbled toward Grace. He looked at the crescent-shaped birthmark on her wrist. Then rolled up his own sleeve.

Mallory Callahan stays slumped on the cold tile, her thin frame shivering, sobbing out loud for every member of the Mercer Security Detail and the Calloway Bloodline to see. "Look at you," Lorraine Mercer snaps, stepping out from behind her son with her chin held high, her eyes full of disgust. "She is groveling at your feet, Harper! She is trying to fix this pack, and you stand there acting like a feral brute! You have no heart!" Grayson Mercer’s jaw clenches tight, his golden wolf-light flashing hot beneath his skin. He lunges forward, scooping Mallory’s fragile body into his arms and pulling her flush against his chest. His eyes burn with pure, lethal anger as he locks his sight onto mine

The Earl shrieked in wonder, "You call her a maiden! She is no maiden. She's a thief! A mercenary, unbelievable thief!" He continued barking while he walked backwards away from them, "She handed her drink to the Earl of Vetcom, said things too daring for any normal Scottish woman and stole food. You would not call such person a mai…" He found himself staggering suddenly, noticing he was just at the edge of a ditch, one he didn't notice because he was too busy shouting. While he found himself falling into it, a hand quickly gripped around his hard and tight. Gently, that same hand pulled him up, straight back to his balance. And it was the devil herself.