Life Of A Mercenary Novels & Stories

That night, a black Audi rolled to a stop below our apartment, and Andrea's husband, Kirk Herrera, who'd always been the materialistic type, kicked her out and left her at the door with a dark, displeased look on his face. "Her treatment is a bottomless pit. I can't live like this anymore. I'm divorcing her." Then, Kirk floored the gas and left, just like that, while Andrea leaned against the walls in the hallway and cried her heart out. Mom felt incredibly sorry for her and hurriedly helped her into the apartment, calling Leroy immediately. Leroy Sutton was a shady labor broker. He specialized in sending the most desperate people to the most dangerous factories in the country. Early the nex

"Come on. We need to find Elias and break the curse on us." Mirabelle dug in her heels. "No, not unless you acknowledge this child!" "What child? Don't you dare ruin my son!" The two of them started fighting. All of a sudden, Marcus thought of something, ran to the side, and threw up. My assistant reminded me that I still had a business gathering to attend that evening. I'd had enough of this farce, so I ordered my bodyguards to kick them all out. … Later on, my best friend told me how Clara aged at lightning speed and ultimately had to rely on expensive medical equipment to stay alive.

Liam. The van's tires squeal as we pull into the bunker— all three of the Vans. We left on this mission with one van but we're back with three loaded with money, men and weapons. As soon as I step off the van, our men start to cheer boisterously, hollering my new name— Merciless. A smirk pulls up on my lips, feeling the high that comes from being revered, from being looked upon as a savior. It's just been weeks, but my life has changed in the twinkle of an eye.

"Outsiders. As in–" "Mercenary packs." He says grimly. "The ones that sell their loyalty to the highest bidder." Bingo! One mystery solved. Everything was beginning to make a bit more sense now. The thought still makes my blood run chill. Rogues we could deal with. But mercenaries? That's organized warfare. "Who would want to go this far just to get me?" I mutter. Lucien shoots me a side eye. "You're a pretty big deal. Lots of enemies, not enough fans."

Then I watch in horror as he engages the deadbolt. “Don’t think I am frail or weak and imagine doing stupid things to me. It will end in tears.” He says. “I am very dangerous, I am a mercenary, a professional. I have done this work for years, around twenty years. My services are on demand everywhere and I have been hired by the high and mighty to do their dirty work.” “What do you want?” I finally ask after gathering enough courage. If he does this for money then we can come to an agreement. “If it’s money you are after, I will pay you double what they are paying you for this. So please don’t kill me.” I plead.

One of them reached for a gun, thinking on shooting me, but the other grabbed his arm. “Let's shoot him." He shouted. "No!” He barked. "We need him alive if not we won't get paid!" ‘Mercenaries.’ I thought. So someone had hired them. I took advantage of the distraction and used my claws to slash across his throat. The last one tried to run but I caught him by the neck. He thrashed his body, his legs kicking as he struggled in my grip and his hands clawing at my wrist. “Start talking,” I growled. “If you want to leave here alive.”

“Rich family. Paralyzed son. Paying twenty grand a month for a live-in caregiver and they can’t keep anyone longer than a week. His mother’s been through, what, eight caregivers in the last six months? Nine?” My hand tightens around my coffee cup. Twenty thousand. “Why not?” Renee asks. “Because he’s impossible.” Shauna dumps her coffee in the sink. “Won’t talk. Won’t let anyone touch him. Apparently he just sits in that mansion and makes everyone miserable.” Beth winces. “That’s sad.” Shauna grabs her bag. “They’re desperate though. Six month contract. One-twenty total if you can stick it out but I bet anyone can make it that far.”

If this kept up, they'd discover my safe house. After weighing my options, I decided to corner them in a narrow alley and force them to stop. "You guys?" I frowned at the group in front of me. "We settled our account, didn't we?" They were the thugs I'd hired earlier to help with the staged rescue. Were they back for more food? But they shouldn't have finished what I gave them yet. The leader was muscular with a solid build. A blush crept across his tanned face when I spoke. "Miss, the thing is, we're actually mercenaries. Our employer's dead. Our buyer's gone too. If you hadn't given us food the other day, we would've starved by now."

"Yes, my name is Dylan, I'm twenty-three years old, I've been with General Henri for thirteen years." Eric nodded, pushing over a plate of fresh grapes from space, offering Dylan to eat. "Do you have any parents in the house?" "I'm an orphan who's been trained by General Henry to be a squire." The two tiger cubs were lying on the ground as if they understood what they meant, they came and squealed with their tiger claws on Dylan's lap. Eric laughs at the cub's actions but also feels sorry for Dylan. “You don't need to feel so sorry, any squire would be like that. nothing new can let go of no weakness at all.”

In a natural limestone bowl sheltered from the worst of the wind, the council's hired mercenary camp buzzed with cold, calculating efficiency. Roughly twenty mercenaries—hardened veterans of the southern border wars, clad in mismatched tactical gear and heavy leather dusters—sat around a series of low-burning campfires. They weren't high council enforcers bound by protocol or uniform; they were apex predators-for-hire, answerable only to whoever paid the highest bounty in silver and gold.