Chat Noir Novels & Stories

And three hours to decide whether Detective Casie Blackwood was ready to reclaim her birthright as a Blackwood heir. The elevator reached the parking garage, and as the doors opened, Casie caught a scent that made her blood freeze. Ancient predator. Old magic. And underneath it all, something that smelled like home. Someone from her past was already here, waiting in the shadows of the garage. "Stay behind me," she told Rick, her hand instinctively moving to her weapon even as she knew bullets would be useless against what was coming. “Show yourself?”

We saw three men in black suits entered in the kitchen and the chefs were blocking their way. Nice. The chefs of this hotel were also criminals. No wonder they're also Nicolas's men. "Motherfuckers!" Nicolas hissed and quickly started the bike. As soon as we paced on the highway, two black Ferrari started chasing after us. A few moments later, they started firing as I thought I would die right there. "Nicolas! They're firing!" I screamed. "Come down! Just hold me as tightly as you can so that you won't fall, okay?!" He yelled.

Marco drove into the gates of La Rosa Nera. The club's neon lights cast an eerie shadow over everything they touched. The club's pathway was a spectacle to behold. An archway adorned with beautiful black roses that resonated with the name of the club, La Rosa Nera (The Black Rose). The petals of these gorgeous flowers glittered and danced under the night sky. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of expensive perfume and a fading sensation of danger that lingered.

His eyes shone crimson as he licked his blood strained lips. "This". He held the glass. Leaning back into Stephen’s chest sniffing his neck. It soothed him. Relaxed him. "Good one Callum . It’s a deer. You sure you want this"? Saint reconfirmed. Callum nodded a yes and the next moment they all gasped when Saint took all shots bottom up. "Yumm". They all laughed looking at him enjoying the treat. "Someone taking lessons. Wow. It’s not so you Stephen". Suddenly the door opened to Zol and they all were shocked.

CHAPTER XIV: Terrified “Dark Celestial Realm Augmentation: Graveyard of a Greedy Crab,” I seriously uttered, snapping my fingers to activate and expand my complete realm. Everything was suddenly enveloped by darkness and there were several black holes surrounding us, moving around like they will suck everything in this realm. But that will not happen unless I allow it to happen. Then, big tweezers of a crab with sharp fangs on edges came out from these black holes. They were enveloped with dark glowing light. Deborah’s Celestial Realm was shattered into pieces and vaporized into thin air. It was overpowered.

I said, handing him the paper. He took the crumpled note, skimmed the message then popped the locks. "In the back," he said, motioning with his thumb. We pulled away from the curb and I shuddered. Even with the growing distance between us, I could feel the tattooed man's murderous gaze, signing my death warrant. The streets flew by my window, blurring into one long, pastel streak. Not that I cared. The walled cities always looked the same, with every building a minimum of two stories high, painted in one of four pastel shades and a single coded steel door at its front.

“It’s tacky… like red lipstick on your collar.” “What the hell are you talking about?” “The lady left her signature… chérie,” she dropped in a sweet tone. “Her perfume… It’s all over you.” Christophe’s eyes splintered into hers, alight with disturbing mockery. A slumbrous smile of staggering charisma glued her gaze to him. “What a wonderful private eye you would make... I can see you sheltering from the rain in a doorway, watching out for the evidence of some poor bastard cheating on his wife! Unhappily for you, Lara, I’m not a married man.”

He wasn’t a good man. Didn’t even pretend to be. He was the devil. The kind you called when you needed someone erased. When you wanted to send a message in blood and fire. He knew damn well what he was. So why the hell was his five-year-old coughing blood in a hospital bed while the world kept spinning? His fists shook. The cigarette burned down to the filter. He didn’t feel it. He spun back to Scarface. “I want Chérie Noir’s head,” he said, voice low and final. “Bring it to me. Or don’t come back.”

My name is Elora and I reside at the Blue Mountain Packhouse. I have a slim figure, long curly blonde hair which I usually wear up in a bun so it is out of my face. My eyes are a deep blue which I love. I am not a normal girl though. You see I am a shewolf, my rank at the packhouse is an omega. I don’t know my parents because they passed away when I was just a tiny baby, so I don’t have any memories of them. The only thing I have is a necklace locket from my mother. I have never taken it off because it makes me feel close to her spirit.

Chloé leaned forward without hesitation, lips curving into a smirk. “Velours noir,” she purred, her French accent softening the consonants. The man gave a curt nod, slid a key card from his pocket, and swiped it against a hidden reader by the wall. With a mechanical click, the door opened. A narrow stairwell descended into the darkness below. “Allez,” Chloé whispered, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she tugged Aurelia along.