Dark Mysterious Guy Names Novels & Stories

“But I know of someone who may know where the Feral Assassin is…” “Really? Who is that?” “A dark mage named Gregory. Heard of him?” “Well, the name doesn’t ring a bell with me. But it doesn’t mean that he is a nobody. The witches are a secretive bunch.” As if we werewolves aren’t… “Well, that aside, why do you think he knows about the Feral Assassin?”

He knew exactly what he looked like, and how that was affecting me. Attraction aside, I would never forget the type of man he was. He wasn't in league with actual Darkness like Nadia, but that did not make him pure and good as a whole. Washed in shades of grey, as the voices in the cavern had once told me. Dain Viotto, or the Game Master as he had become over the course of one hundred and seventy years, was the most dangerous person in this world.

Letting one's secrets known is equal to handing one's weakness to others. Though Reagan is her teammate and best friend, she still hesitates to reveal her secrets. It's ingrained in her mind to never reveal. Never display your powers to an outsider, her parents' last words before they died. The Guild is a supernatural organization that includes all types of supernaturals. Their major goal is to kill the rogues. Any supernatural can turn a rogue but it has a different meaning for each one. For beasts or werewolves, rogue means giving in to their inner beast's urges, turning them into savages, feasting on others.

His pale, almost grey skin, has the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. “Who’s she?” The man snarls my way. “Who are you?” Bram asks him with as much venom laced in his words. The man’s eyes shift to Bram, “You can call me Twenty-Nine. Shadow sends his regards.” He glances at me again, his lip curling up with distaste. “Again, who is she?” “The person that’s going to get Shadow what he wants,” Bram replies with a matter of fact. Twenty-Nine - such a strange name. Even for a street name. Everything about this man is strange and wrong. He has no scent, skin the color of ash with eyes that seem to peer into your very soul with an air of evil intent.

A flicker of rage sparks in his gaze, clearly remembering his earlier anger at Ryan as his head had emerged from beneath the table. “That’s enough, NIck,” Marcus’s voice rumbles out, chastising his friend and cutting off ryan's’s response. The name echoes in my mind as I attempt to place where I’ve heard it before. “NIck?” I ask, stumbling a step back as apprehension sparks in my mind. “Nick Gustan.” Ryan jerks back in surprise, clearly recognizing the name too. The name is a statement, not a question anymore because I know the man standing in front of me. Any person with underground connections would know that name. But hell, I hadn’t even known he was a wolf, let alone that he was allied w

Instead, his grip on my arm tightened until I felt the bone groan. "Please," I whimpered. "I was just sent to clean the room. I don't even know who you are." He leaned in, his face inches from mine. He smelled of expensive cologne and the bitter tang of drugs. How much are they paying you? Tell me, “I’ll pay you double to tell them you saw nothing.” I stared at him, Confused. “what is he talking about"? who are they? Before I could ask, his eyes glazed over.

He really sounded pissed now. " Because you offered us a very generous amount of money. And we are always open to negotiations." The man said, his voice smooth. " 'Us'?" Damon asked. " Let's just say I am Shadow's associate. I handle the... physical aspect of our business." The man explained. I didn't like the sound of that. " What's your name?" Damon asked. " Ghost." The man replied. " That's not a real name." Damon countered. The man chuckled, like Damon just said something hilarious.

“I don’t know anyone named Lukas.” The man gave a slow, knowing smile that didn’t reach his cold eyes. “Don’t you? Your lover. The generous philanthropist. The owner of The Sixteenth Hour Foundation.” He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “The Swedes have another name for him, you know. In certain circles. Den Tysta Lönnmördaren” He paused, letting the foreign words hang in the air. “The Silent Killer.” Ian’s blood froze. His heart hammered against his ribs. The Ghost? Is this him? Is this The Ghost?

Chicago wasn't sure if he were inside someone's realm, awake in the real world, or if he was just dreaming the image in front of him. A single man ahead of him balanced well with the shadows. The black silhouette removed his cap, he said. "Chicago, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Dark, and I'm the spirit living inside your uncle's vessel." Chicago couldn't reply before falling as if the ground beneath him caved in, descending into a darkness of shadows that reached out towards him with black arms.

“If you thought this was worth bringing to me, it means you know more.” Dylan leaned forward, his voice dropping. “I have a name—just not the real one. They call him ‘The Broker.’ He facilitates high-level, illegal deals. But no one has ever seen his face. His identity is a complete mystery. Ever heard of Rupert Langley in Finnland?”