Raven Without Hood Novels & Stories

One of the vampires had to have some, but would they give it to me? Then, I heard a tutting from behind me. “Rule one of plotting murder,” Raven said. “Don’t, especially if you’re doomed to fail. The second is don’t be so obvious about it.” I turned to look at her. She looked like she’d just taken a shower. Her eyes glowed with a soft red light. She was wearing another pair of tight leather pants and a camisole shirt under an embellished black corset. She looked as if she had rested and her eyes had a soft glow to them.

If he could stay close enough to her, eventually he would catch up, and if he was lucky, he could grab ahold of her long enough to say the incantation that would send her to Hell. Rider rematerialized atop a large building and saw Raven in the distance. She’d dropped her cloak, and as she began to run, he chased after her. She still had her scythe in her hand, though she’d collapsed it into the size of a magic wand, and now that she wore a black cat suit, instead of the bulky cloak, she was much more agile. She couldn’t outrun him, though. She had to know that. What was she trying to do?

“That took longer than I expected.” I spun around. Raven stood a few steps away, a gun raised and steady in her hand. Her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, exposing the back of her neck. A tattoo drawn there. A cross. I had ever noticed it before. Her hair was always down and had always covered it. Suddenly, everything clicked. Why Knox had said she was different. Why he had said she smelled like rain mixed with mud. Why she was supposed to be dead—yet here she stood.

The lady was surprised and confused when he suddenly cut her off. "Y-Yes? I think she placed it on her vanity area." He felt like he was being poured with a glass of cold water when his speculation was confirmed. Hyde remembered it when he went to the victim's vanity table. He remembered what it looked like. A bird darker than a crow, and usually eats flesh from dead animals. A bird that means DEATH... A CARRION CROW.

But my head suddenly bumped into something. As I held my forehead, I saw that the man standing in front of me was Raven. He was wearing a different balaclava than before, with a small embroidered silver “R” on it. Raven was dressed more casually, in a black hoodie. “Shall we go together?” He offered calmly.

Chapter 13 DAMIEN’S POV: The safehouse feels smaller every time she walks into the room. The single bulb overhead buzzes like it’s on its last breath, throwing long shadows across the concrete walls. Rain taps the tiny window high up like impatient fingers. Raven stands by the metal table, sorting through the med kit she dragged in earlier. She’s still in the black tactical pants and long-sleeve shirt, but she’s unzipped the vest halfway. I can see the black sports bra underneath, the way it hugs the swell of her breasts, the faint sheen of sweat in the hollow of her throat.

Third Person POV Wearing his old bonnet, Raven is riding his bike, way to the headquarters where the meetings of the Mafia boses are held. The snow is nothing more like a hint of good day to spend time with someone you love, but it not to Raven. Slippery road sign tend to be unnecessary to Raven's speed. Police mobiles are running in a hurry to catch him, but eventually, he is leading them to the location. He really wish they didn't changed their location!

After the argument in the car, Raven was surprised to receive a text message with an address and time for the gig. He debated whether to go as he changed shirts three times in front of his bathroom mirror, finally settling on a plain black t-shirt and jeans. He shrugged on his leather biker’s jacket and ran a comb through his hair. “Shit,” he told himself in the mirror as he fidgeted with his hair and ran his nails through the stubble on his cheeks contemplating the value of shaving. “You are like a nervous virgin dressing for her prom date.”

The Ravens were treated to yet another security station close to the end of the walkway, perhaps 20 meters away from the entrance to the building. And the Royal Guards stationed here were a little bit different from the regular ones. Their uniforms were a deep, dark burgundy. It was so dark that it was almost purplish-black. And there were no other highlights on their uniforms, silver or not. At the station, the Ravens went through yet another round of careful vetting, And they also witnessed another changing of their guard. The Matriarch’s Royal Guard handed over the Ravens to these shadowy Royal Guards, then went back the way they came.

Scene 5: Lunch Break Forecast Raven sat by his desk, the soft hum of the office around him barely making a dent in his focus. His mind raced through the plans for the day, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. His phone buzzed—a weather alert. Clear skies, no rain, it read. “No rain? Not today,” Raven thought, narrowing his eyes at the screen. The city had been eerily still all morning, and the air had a certain heaviness to it that made his skin prickle. He looked out the window, a half-bitter smile tugging at his lips.