The Deadly Assassin Robin Novels & Stories

Robert began walking, “Let’s go. We've gotta get back here before noon to cook for the team!" Arth sighed, shaking his head before following him. The snow crunched under their boots, with thick fog lingering in the air around them. "So your mission yesterday was-" "An assassination," Robert answered, his voice rougher than usual. "Our target was an executive who owns a drug establishment in Casterfall City, drugging his victims and torturing them to death." “That’s brutal.” Robert paused, then turned his head to Arth with a serious look. “Believe me, bro. You haven’t seen anything worse than this yet.”

He pesters me as I struggle with myself to at least be able to wiggle my fingers. I hate him. I hate him so much. No particular reason as to why they want him dead? His words right now are enough reasons. What part made me this unconscious? Was it the hit? Or was it the fact that I cut myself? Was it my blood? I have bled one too many times. Aunt Kitra made sure I never had my trainings easy. “What is an assassin if you cannot fight the same death you have made your job?” He continues to pester me as he increases his pressure on my foot.

It’s so juvenile. “I can honestly say I’ve heard nothing about Blacktop,” I say unemotionally. Blacktop is, of course, another assassin, known for killing his victims by running them down. He either makes it look like a simple hit-and-run or sets up a patsy to take the fall. Not the most creative way to kill someone, but it does get the job done. “Well, he won’t be competing this year because he went and got himself killed,” she says in amusement.

The grim reaper stood on top of the tallest building in their target area easily blending with the night in her black attire, she knew that she needed to stay alert because someone was always bound to make a mistake when on a mission. Raised in the Elite Assassin Academy, she knew how to execute well and had little to no room for sympathy when she had to take someone’s life. The Elite Assassin Academy was known for it is undying record of cleaning the streets of bad guys, so why would the grim reaper feel any pain while performing her duty.

These rich people could put cameras anywhere. When I didn’t find anyone, I pulled out my burner phone and saw a text from Silas “Change of plans. Take out Raina’s father, Robert Cole. Soon. Gather the information we need from Raina, then take her out next." Raina’s father? Family kills were always messy and too much to clean up. It was sudden, but orders were orders and I didn’t get paid to ask questions. Slip something in his drink, it would appear as a heart attack and, for someone his age, it would be believable.

The man was smoking a thick stick of cigarette, and he let out a puff of smoke, his voice muffled by the mask. "So you are saying that Ophelia Storm isn't faking her amnesia?" The female nodded, clearing her throat. "Yes, Warrior. I had never seen her that afraid, and her husband believes that her attack was because of him." The man stared into the moonlight for a while, and then turned around, taking slow steps towards the female assassin who held her breath. Gently, he lifted the burning cigarette and pushed the butt into her skin, rolling it around slowly. "If you've made a mistake, and the order is exposed because of you, I will kill you, after I take out your weakness in front of you. W

Before I could even call out for Lucien, Gabriel, or Jacob, a figure jumped out from the dark. It was an elite assassin. He wore a black leather mask and dark clothes that made absolutely no sound. In his right hand, he held a long, thin dagger. The silver metal of the blade was painted with a thick, green liquid. I knew that smell instantly. It was the poison of the Death Flower. Just one small scratch from that blade would stop a werewolf's heart in seconds. "Die, traitor," the assassin whispered, his voice cold and sharp. He lunged forward, aiming the poisoned blade straight at my chest.

"They made the cure for you, too. These are the assassins trained to hunt the unwritten. Their blood is made of lead and virus. One scratch from those needles, and your fire will turn into ash. Your story will be deleted forever." The twelve assassins leaped from the roofs, landing in a perfect circle around Rowan and me. They didn't snarl. They didn't breathe. They just raised their green needles, and the red lines on their masks began to pulse in sync with my heartbeat. Damon leaned back against the door, his silent smile widening as he watched his secret weapon close in. He hadn't just brought a knife to a gunfight; he had brought an eraser to a drawing. I raised my spear of light, but th

Roy was killed before he could react meaning either the assassin was way more powerful than him or he had attacked from his blind spot. But Roy wasn't a human either, he was a werewolf with heightened senses. There was no way an assassin would have followed him without him knowing. It was either he was careless and didn't care about anything else or that he didn't know which was impossible. Also when the assassin had struck, there was no way Roy wouldn't be able to react even if it was in his blind spot. He should have been able to react just before the knife struck him but he didn't. It was just like a suicide, even he wouldn't have been able to tell it was an assassin if he hadn't observed

“Every man bleeds. Every man dies. Including this Knight.” Barbie’s nails dug crescents into her palms beneath the table. The pain kept her rooted in the moment, “So why?” she pressed. “Why go after him if you don’t even know who he is?” Her uncle leaned forward, steepling his fingers, his grin spreading wide. His teeth were sharp, his eyes hungrier than any wolf. “Because if the rumors are even a little bit true, then assassinating him will be your most challenging task yet.” Barbara couldn’t believe her ears.