Ghost Tracer Novels & Stories

And then, a final image — the Grayson Veronin symbol painted across the wall in blood-red pixels. The same mark that had burned itself into the warehouse hours ago. The Ghost hadn’t just resurrected my father’s systems. He’d resurrected his enemies. For a moment, none of us spoke. The air inside the vault felt heavier than oxygen, like the walls themselves were breathing with us. Roman D’Angelo.

The tombstone glowed faintly in the dark soil. Vincent staggered back, his claws scraping against the stone. His name was etched into the granite—Vincent Fox. A growl tore from his throat. "No..." he gasped for breath. "No!" The ground beneath him rumbled as if something buried deep wanted to break free. From the shadows, the ghost’s whisper slid through the air: “She buried you with her. The grave doesn’t belong to her anymore; It belongs to you.”

I began to chant as I felt the blood of Ares mixing with my own until I could feel his power coursing through my veins. I lift my hand and outstretched it until my long black fingernail was technically touching the barrier around the clearing. I watch as the tip of my nails began to bend until it melt. I smirked before retracting my hand. "Ester darling, I see you are not happy that I am visiting you today." I spoke and summoned one of my crows. This one name was Ghost, he had a liking for lost souls that lingered on earth.He could spot them quickly, something I have used him for occasionally when I want to suck some of the souls power. There is nothing more delicious than a wandering soul.

"You'll be fine. You're too mean to die." Lucky shook his head once, grimacing in pain at the movement. "Get…this…son of…a bitch," he ground out. "Kill him." Grey knew exactly who he meant. Fantasma. Ghost. Everyone in the intelligence community knew of him, but identifying him was another thing. Probably the main reason they called him Ghost. He was invisible, leaving no trace and evaporating into the night. But JSOC had gotten a lead on who it might be, information they shared with no one except Grey's SOG team. The more the information was shared, the greater the chance for disaster.

“Severe ones. For your future. Your parents… they won’t take this lightly.” “I know,” I said. He dismissed me. I walked back into the hallway. The news had spread quickly like wildfire. Kids were staring at me, whispering in groups as I passed. “Zero…” “I heard she cheated and got caught.” “No, she went crazy and just filled in randomly…” “Lizzie said the engagement is totally off now…” I ignored them all and walked straight to the parking lot. My phone buzzed. A message from Tamara. Fixer’s name is Marcus Vale also known as “The Ghost”. Investigates and Handles discreet problems for the Crowns. Dave specifically. Current location is attached.

It will only take half a second for whoever is out there to get a good shot and take another member of this Pack out for good. “Fuck.” Low growls when a shot comes from somewhere in the darkness, it hits the ground right next to Ghost’s foot and makes him fall back onto his ass. I glance at him and realise my mistake. Ghost is no ordinary man; he practically glows in the dark like a damn homing beacon for anyone hunting at night.

“Did your tech wolves find a signature?” Silas opened the red folder, revealing pages of complex code, bright red tracking maps, and encrypted network pings. “Our tech wolves traced the ghost routing servers through three different continents,” Silas explained, turning a page. “It was an absolute masterpiece of black market engineering. Whoever did this is a genius. They are a filthy, twisted monster with unlimited resources and a sick obsession with our bloodline. But they made one critical mistake last night. They pinged a local cell tower near your old penthouse apartment right after you left it.”

The screen was cracked, but it still worked. She didn't call the police. She knew the police worked for Voss. She scrolled through her contacts until she found a number she hadn't called in years. It was a contact for a group of underground hackers who specialized in "corporate ghosting." "I need a trace," June whispered into the phone when someone picked up. "Find a black sedan leaving the Lower District. And find me a way into the Voss Estate." She looked at her bruised wrist. She thought about Silas’s inhuman speed. She thought about Lydia’s missing texts.

Her body would simply fail, and she would fall. But not today. Today wasn't the right day. The light was wrong. The angle was wrong. The wind was unpredictable. Ghost had learned patience the hard way by staying alive when he should have been dead. He watched her disappear into the building. Then he waited. Ghost ate protein bars and drank water from a bottle he'd prepared the night before. The apartment was empty except for him and his equipment. He'd rented it under a false name, paid in cash, told the landlord he was a photographer working on a project about the Manhattan skyline.

Subtle, but I notice everything. Klaus de Luca. He didn’t see me as he entered a room alone. I didn’t hesitate. Silently, smoothly, I followed. The door was just starting to close when— CRASH! A vase flew at my head. I ducked instinctively, the ceramic shattering against the wall behind me. I straightened slowly, blade already drawn. Then I heard his voice. Low. Calculated. “So... you’re the Ghost Knife. The woman with no past. No future. Who sent you ? .”