Novels About Assassins Novels & Stories

I say in annoyance as I smooth down my hair. He chuckles, “My apologies, now what can I do for what?” “Recently myself and another found ourselves being the targets of someone who seems to be manipulating people in our profession to end each other. I’ve found several cases of double homicides that are just chalked up to nasty cases of self-defence gone bad, but the causes of death in those cases all link up to assassins who all vanished without a trace. Of course, I now know what happened to them. I want to find the son of a bitch who put a target on my back and make him regret it. I figured if anyone would have answers regarding the disappearances of assassins, it would be you… Master,” I s

His hand rubbed his face furiously, and then he asked, "You said you had a sister. What happened to her?" "I-I don’t know. I ran away when my mom started bleeding and wouldn’t move. I don’t know if she’s alive or not. Neither do I know what happened to my sister," I said with so much shame, but he remained silent. I reached out for his hand, but he took a step away from me again. We were almost three feet apart, and I have never felt so far from anything in my life. I felt inclined to continue when I said, "I had to move here to get the cops off my trail. I survived on the streets for weeks until the day some guys tried to have their way with me. One thing led to another, and before I knew i

I have so many unanswered questions about this mysterious assassin. I spent the next week preparing for the formal event while also gathering what I could about assassins that were known. None of the information told me anything. I got a few well-known female assassin names. The number one was Phantom Reaper, second was Blade of Bracken (named after this city, Bracken’s Rock), and third was simply Death. Not very original, that one. By evening, it’s time for me to attend this despicable gala to network and attempt to secure funding for my next research project. I dress sharply in a black tuxedo, my white dress shirt is crisp, and I wear a neatly knotted black tie. My hair is usually always a

ZAREK Tania’s breath hitched, her eyes searching mine for any hint of a joke. But this was no time for jokes, no room for lies. “Assassins?” she whispered, her voice trembling with disbelief. “Yes,” I confirmed, leaning in closer, my tone even. “We’re trained, skilled, and we do whatever it takes—robbing, stealing, destroying.” “The man Lizzy killed was sent to take us out. He murdered Ramirez and Bruce, and he wouldn’t have stopped until he succeeded.”

Alice asked offended by her brother’s statement. “No one is saying at Alice, but it is just so hard to believe.” Luca said. “Unless….” Giovanni dragged and dropped down to get a closer look at their corpse. “Unless what? Boss.” Luca asked again. “Unless she is a female assassin.” Giovanni said and rose to his feet. “Impossible, they were killed and forbidden from ever going down that road.” Luca answered. “Why did they do that to them and why?” Ashely asked shyly. “The Alpha Guards had finished them off because they were the deadliest assassins. They were able to go and enter places male assassins could never.” Giovanni answered and Ashely felt her cheeks turn red.

None survived from the hands of assassins that were sent to finish the story of Williams and Millers. The security was tight. The businessmen made sure of it. Still, the band of these four assassins slipped into the tightly packed venue feigning servers, waiters, and waste management professionals. They chose the kitchen as their spot to process the plan. The clients have loaded their pockets heavily to get this job done. Of course, they understood how important it was for them. One mistake could cost them dozens of bullets. The bodyguards were heavily armed and from their eagle eyes, accessed every walking being.

The scent of fresh blood immediately stained the clean, ancient air of the sanctuary. ​But these weren't ordinary pack warriors; these were professional killers who specialized in taking down high-ranking werewolves. Three of the assassins threw small, iron canisters onto the floor, releasing a thick, choking cloud of crushed moon-fern and silver dust that began to fill the chamber, trying to blind Lysander’s heightened senses.

So many ways to make it look like tragedy rather than murder. The assassin had been hired by High Lord Cassian Thornwood to eliminate his niece. Make it look like an accident. Leave no trace that led back to the Fae Court. And the Northern Pack Summit...scheduled in just six days...provided the perfect opportunity. Chaos. Politics. Hundreds of wolves gathered in one place. Security stretched thin trying to monitor everyone. The perfect cover for an assassination. The assassin pulled out a small notebook and added today's observations to the growing list:

I would suit its back but time is not on my side. His glass door reveals he is neither in his ambiently lit kitchen nor his living room, but the security men from earlier at least denotes he is home and that is all that matters. Tucking my gun in its holster, I proceed to unlock the door with a central key. To become an assassin, you have to learn to pay more attention to details than even a forensic analyst. His door made not even a creak the last time I was here and now it is like I did not touch the door.

Another grazed the thigh of a guard who didn’t even flinch. “Where are they?” one shouted. But the answer came not in words, but figures. Clad in shadowed leather, with veils pulled over their faces, the assassins emerged. Swift, agile, relentless. They descended from rafters, slipped from corridors, came through vents and shadows like spirits born of blood. The clash began. Steel to steel. Screams of pain. Roars of defiance. The air turned sharp with the scent of sweat, blood, and burning oil.