Strength of an Assassin [Assassins Inc. 3] (The Stormy Glenn ManLove Collection) Read online

  Assassins Inc. 3

  Strength of an Assassin

  Samson

  I was an assassin, one of the strongest. My strength was my asset when completing my missions. When I was captured and forced to fight in cage matches, that strength was used against me as I was used as a feral monster for the entertainment of others. My salvation came in the form of the man I was forced to fight...my mate.

  Henry

  I was an omega shifter forced to be a fighter. It wasn’t a job I wanted, and going against my nature was harder than I thought it would be. By the time I was tossed into the pit and made to fight for my life, I was ready to give up. My salvation came in the form of the man I was forced to fight...my mate.

  Genre: Alternative (M/M, Gay), Paranormal, Shape-shifter

  Length: 33,422 words

  STRENGTH OF AN ASSASSIN

  Assassins Inc. 3

  Stormy Glenn

  

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  STRENGTH OF AN ASSASSIN

  Copyright © 2017 by Stormy Glenn

  ISBN: 978-1-64010-693-2

  First Publication: September 2017

  Cover design by Jess Buffett

  All art and logo copyright © 2017 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  If you find a Siren-BookStrand e-book or print book being sold or shared illegally, please let us know at

  [email protected]

  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Stormy believes the only thing sexier than a man in cowboy boots is two or three men in cowboy boots. She also believes in love at first sight, soul mates, true love, and happy endings.

  You can usually find her cuddled in bed with a book in her hand and a puppy in her lap, or on her laptop, creating the next sexy man for one of her stories. Stormy welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website at www.stormyglenn.com.

  For all titles by Stormy Glenn, please visit

  www.bookstrand.com/stormy-glenn

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Landmarks

  Cover

  STRENGTH OF AN ASSASSIN

  Assassins Inc. 3

  STORMY GLENN

  Copyright © 2017

  Chapter One

  Samson

  “He’s a big one.”

  The anger was instant, the rage explosive. I stared through the thick iron bars, stalking from one side of my cell to the other. My growl was low, threatening. I’d tear apart any who came near me. I’d end them without blinking an eyelash.

  I lunged at the bars, then snickered when the three men watching me jumped back.

  Pansy-ass bastards.

  They were weak. Fools. They dared to take me captive, to toss me into a cage like an animal. They were dead men and they didn’t even know it. Their bodies just hadn’t caught up with their fate.

  One guy chuckled, the sound nervous and forced. “Oh, yeah, he’ll do nicely.”

  “The boss will go nuts over him,” the one in the middle stated.

  I knew they were guards simply from the things they said. I just didn’t think they were very good guards. If I had been them and I was faced with me, I would have had me in shackles at the very least. They didn’t even have me tied up.

  Idiots.

  I still couldn’t believe I had ended up here. Wherever here was. The guys back at headquarters were going to laugh their asses off if they ever learned about this.

  It had been a simple termination assignment. My mark was a coyote shifter for fuck’s sake. They weren’t the sharpest crayons in the box. Even the five who had been waiting for me shouldn’t have been able to take me.

  I curled my lip back as I glanced at the blue-feather-tipped dart I had pulled from my thigh once I woke up. It explained a lot. I was ashamed to admit I had walked right into the trap they set up for me.

  They shouldn’t have even known I was coming.

  Someone had squealed.

  And as soon as I escaped whatever hell this was, I was going to find whoever had blabbed and show them why it was a very bad idea to piss me off.

  I knew my pride would come for me just as soon as they figured out where I was. I had stayed in contact with my handler, even checking in with Ion before I went to scout out the warehouse where my mark was supposed to be meeting his associates to broker a gun deal. Ion knew the location of the warehouse. He had given it to me.

  I just didn’t think I was in the warehouse anymore.

  I shot a quick look around my cell. It was made of mostly stone. I could hear water trickling somewhere off in the distance, but it was more of a leaky-pipe sound rather than a creek. There was also a stench of rot and mold saturating the air. It almost overshadowed the despair that seemed to seep from the very pores of the cell.

  Almost.

  I suspected whoever had occupied my cell before me had died a horrible death. The smirks of the three men facing me from their relative safety on the other side of the iron bars told me I was headed in the same direction if I didn’t find a way out of my cell.

  They didn’t concern me.

  The barred iron door behind me did. It was dark. Even with my enhanced eyesight, I couldn’t tell where it went beyond a stone tunnel that led away from my cell.

  When one of the men watching me raised a black dart gun and pointed it in my direction, I growled. I tensed, my muscles hardening. I clenched my hands, wishing I could reach the three men and pound them into the ground.

  I dove out of the way when the man pulled the trigger and an orange-feather-tipped dart shot out, headed right for me. I wanted to laugh at the anger on the man’s face, but there wasn’t time. The guard pulled the trigger again.

  As I dove out of the way of that dart, I missed the one fired by the other guy, and the guard next to him. Two darts hit me in the chest simultaneously. The first guy shot me again, this time in the leg.

  The guy laughed. “That should amp him up nice and good.”

  I pulled out the darts and brought them to my nose. There was an acidic smell to all three darts, but I couldn’t place it. I did detect a chemical component to the smell, so I was pretty sure it wasn’t natural.

  Which meant I had just been dosed with some sort of drug.

  Fucking peachy.

&
nbsp; These darts were a little different from the blue one I had pulled out earlier, so I wondered what they were. I tossed them into the corner and went back to staring at the three men. They seemed quite amused, which probably didn’t bode well for me.

  Especially when I felt my skin begin to itch.

  I clenched my hands again. Blood had started rushing through my system, setting me on edge. I was growing agitated. Uneasy. It was almost as if I had been given a massive dose of adrenaline.

  If that was true, the guards on the other side of the iron bars weren’t going to be laughing much longer. I was stronger than most on most days. Shot full of adrenaline, I’d rip the bars right out of the wall and beat the guards with them.

  The thought actually brought a smile to my lips.

  I narrowed my eyes and turned when I heard a grating noise behind me. A deep foreboding entered me when I saw the iron gate leading into darkness rising. I wasn’t stupid. I knew I was supposed to go wherever the dark tunnel led.

  I just didn’t want to.

  I jerked when another dart imbedded into my thigh. I snarled at the three guards. I so wanted to rip them into tiny little pieces.

  My blood started pounding through my body, my agitation growing.

  When all three of the men lifted their dart guns, I stepped into the tunnel. I knew I was playing right into their hands, but I didn’t want to get shot with another dart. I could already feel my heart rate beating out of control.

  I didn’t have long to walk before I started to see light at the end of the tunnel. I hoped it wasn’t an oncoming train.

  A little farther and I started to hear noise, nothing specific. More like the low murmur of many voices. Yeah, it was probably a train, or something just as dangerous.

  I stopped at the edge of the opening at the far end of the tunnel. It was easy to see that the second I stepped out into the light, my life was going to get very busy.

  From what I could see from my position, the tunnel opened up into a large round pit, with gates set at the left, right, and front. The walls surrounding the pit were at least twelve feet high. I was good, but I doubted even I could jump that far up. Above the wall, and surrounding the entire pit, was stadium-style seating.

  And it looked as if every seat was filled.

  As soon as I was spotted, the chanting started. “Fight. Fight. Fight.”

  Yeah, not good.

  As soon as the three gates around me opened and men stepped out, it became apparent I was in some sort of fucked-up fight club. It was also very clear that the three men facing me were shifters. I couldn’t smell them over the tinge of excitement in the air, but the razor-sharp claws and teeth were a dead giveaway.

  I growled to let them know I wouldn’t be taken down easily. None of the shifters were bigger than me, but size didn’t always mean victory. I’d seen guys half my size beat the shit out of men bigger than me.

  I still refused to go down easily.

  The second I stepped out of the tunnel, the gate slammed down behind me. So, okay, escaping back to my cell wasn’t going to happen.

  I glanced up at the chanting crowd, taking in faces and memorizing them. A near-photographic memory came in handy in my line of work. The first chance I got, I’d give the descriptions to Ion and let the computer genius track them down.

  This was an illegal fight pit. It had to be. I certainly wasn’t here of my own free will. That meant whoever was running it and those participating, even if they were merely in the crowd, needed to pay for forcing people to fight.

  I was also sure the shifter council would be interested in knowing shifters were being forced to fight, although I wasn’t positive the others were here against their will. They seemed to be enjoying themselves a little too much. One of the fools was actually preening for the crowd.

  Another idiot.

  I tensed when an alarm went off, not because of the noise, but because all three shifters turned toward me. When they began to advance on my location, I flexed my arms and growled at them. They seriously needed to understand that if they attacked me, I would take them down, and I would make it painful.

  The smart thing would have been for all three men to attack me at once. These guys didn’t strike me as particularly smart, especially when two of them stayed back as if waiting their turn, as the one from the left tunnel started toward me.

  I crouched into a fighting pose, bringing my claws up. I waited until the guy reached me and he took the first swing. I didn’t like starting fights, but I’d damn well finish them if I had to.

  The second Mr. Left swiped at me with his claws, I jerked my head back and kicked out with my feet. He hit the ground hard. I kicked out with my other foot, catching the guy right in the jaw. Blood flew from his mouth as his head snapped around.

  He didn’t get up again.

  I stepped away from Mr. Left and then took on a fighting stance again, gesturing to Mr. Right and Mr. Front. I shook my head to try and clear it. The adrenaline racing through my system was making it harder and harder for me to concentrate.

  My feral side was taking over.

  When both men rushed me at the same time, I roared and dove into the fight. It quickly became apparent that I could shift my fangs and claws, but not my body. I suspected it was something in the darts they shot me with that prevented it.

  I’d still kill them all.

  The next few minutes were a blur as fury took me over in a red haze of blood, my nervous system going into overdrive. I felt the anger and need for blood. I felt my razor sharp claws slicing through flesh.

  By the time there was nothing left to fight, blood and gore covered me from head to foot. I was sweating heavily. The adrenaline I had been shot full of still ran rampant through my body. I felt as if I could fight another twenty men and still be standing, and I was angry enough to do it.

  It was a bad combination.

  The crowd seemed to love it. The cheering had only grown louder.

  I curled my lip back at them in disgust.

  When the gate to my tunnel rose, I walked back through it. I was ready to leave this freak show.

  I paused when I reached my cell. A bucket of water and a towel had been placed next to the entrance. A six-pack of bottled water and a steak that looked as if it had barely been passed over a hot flame sat beside it.

  Whatever.

  I used the water and towel to clean the blood and gore off of me. After sitting on the thin mattress in the corner, I drank down one of the bottled waters and ate the steak.

  If they had drugged the damn thing, so be it. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t already been drugged, and I needed the protein after fighting. If I didn’t keep my strength up, I wouldn’t be able to escape, and I had every intention of escaping. I refused to be anyone’s pet puppet.

  As I settled back against the cold stone wall and my eyelids slid closed, I realized they had spiked the food.

  Bastards.

  Chapter Two

  Henry

  I huddled in my corner, curling my nose under my paws and tucking my tail around myself to ward off the chill in the air. I could almost make myself into a tight little ball, almost be invisible.

  Invisible would be nice.

  I’d like to be invisible.

  I wasn’t.

  I had heard the screams and seen the mangled bodies of those who hadn’t survived the cage or the feral monster they’d been forced to fight. I’d heard the crowds shouting for more, always more. Chanting beast, beast, beast.

  With such demand, they were quickly running out of cannon fodder.

  I knew my time was coming. I was amusing to the guards at the moment, a pawn in their sadistic games, sometimes being beaten by more than one at once. My ability to heal my injuries was quickly waning. There was only so much abuse a body could take, even a shifter’s.

  I almost welcomed being thrown into the pit.

  I swallowed tightly when an enraged roar echoed down the long corridor. Most of the cells on my side of t
he room had long ago been emptied out, but I knew the far side still held a few fighters. I had been made to clean their cells.

  I lifted my head when I heard another roar. It was a victorious sound, telling me that another three fighters had met their ends. I didn’t know the monster who was killing them all, but he had been down in this hellhole for the last three weeks. And the number of eligible fighters had been going down steadily ever since.

  I had no doubt when I faced him, I would die. I was an omega. I barely registered on the feline scale. If there was someone bigger and badder out there—and there always was—I was fucked.

  I cringed when I heard the heavy slam of a door and then voices headed in my direction. I hated the voices. They were usually angry, and that never boded well for me. It pretty much meant I was about to have my ass handed to me.

  When they walked down my corridor, I turned my face toward the wall and closed my eyes. If I was lucky, they would think I was asleep, although that never stopped them before.

  “We only have two left,” one of the guards was saying.

  I recognized that voice.

  I didn’t recognize the next one.

  “We need three for tonight,” the stranger was saying. “If we don’t provide enough entertainment, we won’t draw in the crowds.”

  “The next shipment isn’t due until Saturday.”

  “No, that won’t do at all. We’re already almost to capacity.”

  I lifted my head and peeked up to see who the guard was talking to. I recognized the man’s white suit. I had seen it in the stands several times when I had been sent to clean the pit. Considering the number of guards who surrounded him, I knew he was someone important. I just had no idea who he was.