Trickster Supernatural Novels & Stories

he whispered, his voice trembling. He thought of Cathryn and Rosalind, their faces etched in his mind like a haunting memory. They were like him, creatures of the night, monsters. He felt a shiver run down his spine as he remembered the transformation, the agony and ecstasy of his body contorting into a wolf's. "I'm a monster," he spat, his voice laced with venom. "A beast, a creature without control or reason." Tristan's hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms like claws. He felt the primal urge to run, to hunt, to surrender to the wolf's instincts. But he fought it, his mind rebelling against the loss of humanity.

They usually make jokes, and when people laugh, they absorb their energy. Haunters— An alchemist feeding on other people's fear and using it to scare enemies. Sometimes, they can use it to cast spooky illusions. Provokers— An alchemist that absorbs anger— either from a person, or an animal— and uses it to steal other people's strength, or temporarily copy their powers. Scourger— An alchemist that absorbs others' pain and uses it to heal and strengthen themselves.

I smiled gently. “You have a warrior’s body.” I ran my fingers down a particularly ropey scar down her side. “What was this one from?” “Bobby Brown,” she said. “A werewolf that liked to hunt human children. He had a thing for their hearts. He’d barbecue them.” She shuddered with the memory. “He had killed my client’s nephew. Took me a week but I got him. Brought his heart to my client as proof.” She spoke matter of factly, no pride in her voice. She might not be proud of herself, but I was impressed. I had heard of Bobby Brown and had heard of the hunter that got him. I didn’t realize it was her.

She could legitimately talk the money out of your pocket and when you're done you'll be a lot happier, and a lot lighter. Before long, her and Aileen are laughing and joking about all sorts of shit. Suddenly, Aileen opens up about what happened to her the night before. "Like, is that a werewolf thing? How is that possible?" Aileen asked. Trisha shook her head. "Remember, Zakai is a tribrid. He's part vampire too. He probably used compulsion on you." Aileen snorted, "It had never worked on me" Compulsion had never worked on her. The werewolves at the UT Agency said she was too stubborn.

Tristan looked at the man and the people behind him. It was certain that they were up to no good but Tristan applied patience in handling these mortals. He was a certified Supreme Existence after all. The heir of the Primal Author himself, complete with all the powers and memories that came with it. Tristan was definitely not someone that was easy to anger. But it was unfortunate that a few people were just born greedy and stupid in the first place. “Are you really dumb, boy?! Who else would I call in here but you? Of course I was referring to you and no other! You little shit!”

It was a desperate gamble, a last-ditch effort born of sheer desperation. Tendrils of shimmering energy erupted from Wilson's outstretched hand, wrapping around Alex. The Supreme God Destroyers watched in stunned silence as Alex's body convulsed, a blinding light erupting from within. A scream, both human and otherworldly, ripped through the air before a shimmering figure materialized beside Alex. It was the spirit of the Supreme God, a majestic eight-tailed wolf radiating immense power. The Supreme God Destroyers snarled, their eyes burning with thwarted ambition. Alex, freed from the bindings and the draining ritual, collapsed onto the ground, utterly drained.

I am not harmless anymore. The thought didn’t swell me with pride. It chilled me. The Mirror’s hiss in my dreams—run, little Luna—suddenly wore a face I remembered. Sleek. Careful. Paranoid. A survivor who would salt the fields of his neighbors rather than plant his own garden. “Draven,” Tristan said, like a curse he’d been saving. “It fits.” Osiris’s lips peeled off his teeth in something that was not a smile. “Coward would use a witch and a toy instead of his own claws.”

"Cameron Stuart! Just how much more trouble are you trying to cause me!" Natalie Parker's shrill voice rang in my ears, jolting me awake. The moment I opened my eyes, I saw her raising a bottle of sulfuric acid to splash it on me. Recalling the unbearable agony that overwhelmed me in my previous life, I instinctively reached out to grab the bottle. Still, some of the liquid splashed out anyway, dripping onto my body. I gasped in pain. After exhaling deeply, I clenched my jaw and caught Natalie by the wrist. "Are you mad? You can kill someone if you throw an entire bottle of sulfuric acid at them! Don't you know that?"

"Fine! Yes! I used them to try and force you back. I lied to all of them—the sickness is a lie, the meds are a lie, the vomiting blood and fainting? All a stunt! All of it is fake!" Trista caught sight of several silhouettes approaching behind him. Her expression turned to stone as she addressed the people who had just frozen in their tracks. "Did you all hear that? He said it himself. He's a fraud. There's nothing wrong with him!" With that, Trista pulled her pheromones inward, creating a void of dead silence around her. She didn't spare him another glance, her boots clicking sharply against the cold tile as she vanished into the night like a dissipating mist.

"Just hold your horses. Do we know anything about the Crawfords? They've always kept to themselves, but they're suddenly each proving themselves to be more than what they seem! Talk about cunning!" Hearing his brother, Tobik had to stop and think too. Even being young as he was, Caleb's attitude and behavior was so audacious that he literally intimidated Danmarch, Nistral, and Foehn—and even the Alliance—into submission. One might easily be convinced that he was a Sancturian, but even Sancturians knew better than to disrespect an executor! However, there was one denomination that didn't respect executors, and that was… The Imperials.