Chat Noir Novels & Stories

The dimly lit bar was a sanctuary for the weary and the wicked alike. The air was thick with the scent of aged whiskey and the low hum of conversation, punctuated by the occasional clink of glasses. Chase Almonte leaned against the polished mahogany counter, swirling the amber liquid in his glass, his mind racing with thoughts of revenge. He had always been a man of ambition, but lately, that ambition had twisted into something darker, fueled by a burning hatred for his niece, Desire.

Viktor arrived at the apartment building as the temple bells struck ten o'clock. In the dark, one of his feet brushed against something hairy and wet. Viktor stopped and took a step back. The unearthly luminescence of the moon illuminated even the darkness of the street, where the light devoid of shades stripped the object of all its color, but in spite of that it was unmistakable. Erich's cat lay dead in the street. His skinny body was unnaturally stretched out. Hideously black blood stained his spiky ginger hair where the wagon wheel had passed over him.

She glanced at Cody and corrected saying “our barn.” Damon said, “Cody was telling me about heartbreaker.” Angel smiled so brightly at the mention of the horse she said “He is a randy fella for sure. But, beautiful, I’ve never seen a more beautiful animal.” Damon looked at Cody and said, “You know Gambler and Heartbreaker have the same Sire.” She heard Cody sigh, but he said “Yes, I knew. It’s the culmination of a man’s life’s dream to own a horse like that.”

Any chocolate? “There was a black sedan that just left. Dark windows. No plates.” “A car?” One eyebrow arched. “Probably a neighbor.” “Triple-layered tint. Parked exactly three minutes in the blind spot of the corner camera.” Aria held his gaze for one beat. Then looked back at her screens. “If I installed the corner camera, I also know its blind spots best.” A pause. “Did you get the chocolate or not?” Marcus dropped both bars beside the mousepad.

It was defiant. "You’re a liar and a coward!" Chayton screamed. The anger in Chayton’s voice triggered something deep and dormant. The anger throwing restraint to the back of his mind. A thick, dangerous aura of black and grey zhil vae began to bleed from Chayton’s skin. It didn't shimmer like Kael’s; it looked like heavy smoke, curling around his limbs and turning his eyes into pits of shadow. The air in the warehouse grew freezing, the temperature dropping so sharply that Noah could see his own breath.

The bar was a festering wound in the city’s underbelly, its flickering neon sign spelling “Haven” with a burnt-out “H.” Inside, the air was a chokehold of cigarette smoke, spilled whiskey, and desperation, the kind of place where secrets were currency and lives were cheap. Kai Castellano sat in a shadowed booth, his black leather jacket blending with the gloom, his icy blue eyes fixed on the door. His gloved fingers tapped the scarred wooden table, a rhythm of barely contained fury. Marco Santoro, the slippery fixer dubbed “The Broker,” was late. Kai didn’t like waiting, especially not for a man who’d dodged him twice—first at the gala, then at the warehouse explosion.

It was unlike anything I'd ever seen. And I knew exactly who it was, standing over the poor man. Noir. His back was to me, broad shoulders tense as he looked down at the shivering man whose whimpers and screams seemed to have choked him up. Noir was wearing a sky blue T-shirt with the symbol of a scorpion on it. His back rose and fell steadily, according to his breaths. His hair was let down; black strands fell carelessly just above his shoulders. Calm. Too calm.

“If you ever hurt Evie like you did again, I’m not holding back.” I laughed, “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.” I blurred off, the smell of the blood already pulling me to the site. For the most part, it looked like they had already cleaned up the area. The body was gone, and so was most of the blood, and whatever else that had been around. It’s curious how Calous decided to move the body… Hunters don’t generally expose their kills like that. Maybe I should check out the nearby village. There could be someone bragging there, and maybe I could pick up on the blood. Her scent was everywhere… I pulled my cloak up, stepping into the local tavern, scanning the area, it was busy tonight.

He commented. “Oh, Mr. Battenkurt, you are being awfully generous” Heath smiled politely. “Thank you so much, sir.” Chaos smiled back. “Shall we start?” Heath asked politely. Chaos nodded. Heath, with a practiced hand, unfurled the dental bib. He held it open, ensuring it was positioned correctly, and gently draped it over Chaos’ neck as Heath smelled Chaos’ expensive perfume while he took a note of the scent knowing that it was Royal Oud by Creed. Heath mentally noted to himself that he needed to buy that same perfume since it was this billionaire’s perfume.

it boomed, reverberating off the walls. Cassia exchanged a startled glance with her companions, their expressions reflecting her confusion and apprehension. "Who's there?" she called out, her voice echoing into the darkness. The voice chuckled, its tone both amused and menacing. "You seek answers, do you not?" it replied cryptically. "Answers to questions you have not yet dared to ask." Tharin stepped forward, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "Whoever you are, show yourself," he demanded, his voice firm and unwavering.