The Crow Crew Novels & Stories

“Don’t say a word. Take care of this place yourself. You are dead if the boss is in a bad mood.” Crow then did not look at that bounty hunter any longer. He turned around and followed Foxy to their car. As they got in the car, Crow looked at Tyr and said while smiling, “To answer your question, we are not scared of you exposing his position. That is because if you do not agree to the boss’s requests, you will die...hehehe!” Crow laughed. Meanwhile, Tyr mumbled under his breath, “Really?” Tyr then followed the white Ferrari and disappeared into the night.

Using every ounce of power I’m given, I send an electric current crashing through my whip that is still tightly wrapped around the crow’s neck. Soon, the smell of burning feathers and flesh fills my nose as I find the beast beneath me beginning to spiral towards the ocean below. Pulling my weapons free, I leap, diving into the water just in time to avoid being pulled down along with the now-dead beast. Deciding now was the time to make it to dry land, I began to swim. Around me, other members of our crew were doing the same, leaving the others to finish off the crow beasts before coming to join.

The ground rumbled with a deep roar, setting the stage for Jim as he led his crew of infant spirits into a clash with the Haunts that sliced through the wind. Those infant spirits were fierce, leaving the Haunts no chance to stand their ground. Under Jim's leadership, the enemy was slowly pushed back, inch by inch.

She heard the snick of a blade clearing its scabbard, then: “Katelyn? Are you all right?” Crucian Crowe was in the ruined entranceway behind her, his eyes and his long hair and garbs all black, a length of steel glinting in one hand. He peered into the murky house. The German shepherd lingered beside him. “More callers? Dear me,” said Glee, aroused to fever. “Come in, come in! Don’t leave your guests out there in the cold, child. They can watch.” She smiled atop her nest of bones, her pet still huddled between her hiked-up legs.

"The ones that show the massive 'donations' you’ve been making to certain mercenary guilds in the Southern Border. The same guilds that use the specific type of crossbow bolt found in the Prince’s shoulder today." Vincent’s face went from pale to ghostly white. His mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. "I...I don't know what you're talking about," he finally stammered. "Don't you? Then let’s hope the Crown Prince is less observant than I am," Evelyne said, offering him a sharp, jagged smile. "Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to prepare. I imagine Alaric isn't the type to wait for an invitation when there’s a traitor to interrogate."

I violently hurled my phone against the wall and slumped deep into the leather sofa. After dark,like a masochist,I played the estate's security footage on a loop. Suddenly,a frame caught my eye.Lila sneaking out and throwing a men's leather jacket into the backyard dumpster. I rushed downstairs and dug out that jacket. The moment I grabbed it,the pungent scent of cigars and custom cologne hit my face. It was Marcus's jacket—the son of the boss of the Tomahawk Bratva,our syndicate's biggest rival on the West Coast.

They lunged at each other, shouting, grabbing. At the head of the hall, the Elder—Alexander’s grandfather—finally rose. His hand shook as he clutched his chest. Then he fell. Chaos erupted. Guards. Medics. Council members shouting orders. The great Cole Family—once feared, once revered—was reduced to spectacle. And I stood at the edge of the stage, untouched. Watching the ruin settle. This farce, this collapse— I had only lifted the curtain.

She said as she broke the kiss. Back in Veyra By nightfall, the city of Veyra loomed beneath them, lit with too many torches for peace. Horns sounded across the ridge, signaling late council — a rare, dangerous thing. Someone had forced the council’s hand. They crouched on a rooftop two buildings from the council spire. From this height, they could see guards stationed at every entrance. Inside, silhouettes moved in tight formation — pacing, agitated. Armed. Kaela leaned closely. “We’re out of time.” Her eyes were studying everything below us.

Total, heavy silence. The only sounds were Rosa's muffled sobs and Marco's labored breathing. Dante's expression changed from one of fury to horror, then disbelief. He stared at me like I was some stranger. Three minutes ticked by. The ping from Swisswell Bank cut through the quiet like a knife. [Your account has been credited with 50,000,000 USD.] I signed my name with a flourish, then tossed the contract onto Marco's shocked mug. "A bad girl and her lackey, bound for eternity. May your wedding tomorrow be as cheery as a wake."

She had pinned her chestnut hair simply but neatly, and carried only a small candle to light her way. The corridors of Cresthaven at night were a different world—all shadows and whispers, the gilded frames and marble busts transformed into sentinels watching her passage with empty eyes. Twice she froze at the sound of footsteps, only to find the way mysteriously clear when she gathered the courage to continue. The bearer of this note will ensure the corridors are clear for your passage. The promise from the letter echoed in her mind, both reassuring and unsettling.