A Mentor's Monster: Assassin Games, #1

By Michael D McAuley

In the supernatural town of New Haven all monster's are welcome, even the human ones. For the Moon Group's number one assassin things take a turn for the worse when a figure from the past returns throwing the world he knew into doubt as the hunter become the hunted in the greatest assassination game of his life.

A Mentor's Monster is a fast paced tale filled with vampires, werewolves and mutants.

Also Available Creative Vengeance Part Two in the Assassin Games Series, and Part Three Angel od Death.

• Language: English
• Publisher: MDM Publishing
• Release date: Jun 26, 2014
• ISBN: 9781501406003

Book preview

Chapter 1

The axe had to be pulled free with some force, I found I had to use a two-handed grip to pull it from McAvoy's skull. Bloodied axe in hand I looked down at his lifeless body. His eyes seemed to look at me accusingly from beyond the grave. I knelt down into the moist cold earth. I closed his eyelids with my hand. There was no need to let his gaze linger any longer. He had got what he wanted.

Standing up I looked into the darkness of the night. I saw nothing but cat’s eyes edging towards me. I paid the furred owner of those curious eyes no mind. The night was silent. It slunk away as though not wanting to be part of the crime that had just taken place.

We had met in a graveyard of all places. The night had not started with murder on my mind, or at least not his. I felt my grip on the axe tighten, heard drops of blood roll off it to the muddy grass at my feet as I thought back to how the night had started.

It was back at my apartment, my refuge, my place of reprieve from all the killing. I couldn't find my keys. I had left them on my bed as I hurried to take my shower. I had checked the bed and tossed the sheets to the other side of the room in frustration to no avail. I had to be at the restaurant for 6.00 pm. It was unlikely that I would make it on time. Jennifer Sparkz would not be pleased. It was meant to be an evening of celebration. I had completed my hundredth assignment for the Moon Group. I suspected they were ready to make me a full partner. When I had whipped off the bed covers I had hoped to instantly hear the jangle and thud of my keys as they hit the polished wooden flooring.

No sound had come except for the flapping of the covers in my hand. I checked under the bed, but there was nothing. I started to sweat with an irrational panic. At the rate I was going I would need another shower. I opened the bedside drawers in succession. They remained ajar and unappealing to my cause. My search proved fruitless. The sun shone in my eyes as if to irritate. Realizing the curtains were the cause of my displeasure I jumped across to close them, I did not want anyone in the neighboring flat that stood across from my apartment, staring at me in nothing but my boxer shorts.

Pacing back and forth on the wooden flooring I let out a painful cry. My left foot had found my keys, I limped the extra step to the window, moving to the side so as not to be seen by prying eyes. I closed the curtains and then fished my keys off the floor placing them on the bed. I grabbed my injured foot giving it a soothing rub while balancing on one leg. My foot stung as though a reward.

I quickly sprayed myself in deodorant, before hurriedly putting on the outfit I had left hanging on my clothes cupboard the night before. It was a black suit jacket, with matching trousers, I had freshly polished boots to go with it, then I finished it all off with a plain white shirt with a pale blue tie just to add the slightest bit of color. I almost always wore boots as I did tonight or trainers. On the odd occasion, I had attempted more formal footwear the night's plans never seemed to compliment my choice. Pocketing my keys I rushed down the stairs. I was as ready as I would ever be for the night's party with the moon group. I left locking the door to my apartment securely. The mishap had been slight, but it had given me an ill feeling of foreboding I didn’t much care for.

It was a fifteen-minute walk to the Dragon Boat Restaurant in the Chinese quarter of New Haven. I ran the distance in five. Physical fitness was a prerequisite in my line of work. I felt better moving at speed, Standing still was likely to get me killed on a good day. On a bad day, it wasn’t worth thinking about. The night was cool with a slight breeze. It was six o'clock already. Jennifer Sparkz, my handler, really wouldn't be happy. It didn’t matter most days. I rarely saw her smile. It didn’t work in my favor that she was a real hard-on for timekeeping. Tardiness is bred from God's unfinished creatures, she once told me while working an assignment with me.

I was glad the evening air held a light breezy wind. The summer sun still hung in the sky peeking from behind fluffy candy floss looking clouds.  It wasn’t long before I stood outside the Dragon Boat wondering if Jennifer considered me an unfinished creature. It wasn't the first time I had proved my punctuality to be lacking in her eyes. I took a deep breath letting out a heavy sigh I entered the restaurant shaking my head. Here goes nothing I told myself. I wore my best fake smile.

Inside the Dragon Boat Restaurant, I took in the cheap wallpaper, a fake gold dragon spread across the railings of the second-floor balcony, grinning all knowingly as patrons arrived. The corners of the restaurant contained oriental looking pots most likely bought in bulk, every one a cheap fake. They looked more like souvenirs than prized originals. The flowers that grew from them were probably the only real things in the place.

Standing behind a recently polished wooden counter was the receptionist; his smile as fake as my own. He stood in a plain white shirt, unbuttoned at the neck, and black trousers with matching black shoes. He looked at me expectantly, his most welcoming smile still in place.

I looked at his eyes, a bored grey-green. They told me he would rather be out back smoking a cigarette, or making out with the short blonde waitress. I wasn't psychic. No such skills had existed in my family for me to inherit, not that I would know. My past held many mysterious for me. None of it mattered tonight. The receptionist was dating or at least fooling around with the short blonde. It didn’t matter. I simply knew this after a previous assignment had taken me into brad's neighborhood. He wore a name tag, Bradley, so did Kelly the blonde. As I've already said I have no mind-reading skills or mental abilities.

Brad simply stared at me as though the whole thing was a stage play, with him now waiting dutifully for me to play my part. There was a hint of fear in his gaze that was masked by the stubbornness of youth.

I'm here with the Moon Party. There's a reservation. I spoke blandly. I didn't much care for Brad. The kid was a coward. Still, I'm getting ahead of myself.

Kelly scooted past me into the kitchen, empty plates held high. I touched her backside lightly with my fingertips as she walked by me. She shot me a smile of approval while brad kept his smile in place. His eyes said it all. If he had been the incredible hulk I would have been promptly smashed. I didn't see any immediate danger of Brad ripping his pants, or turning green. He didn’t know I had slept with Kelly. He could never know that she had visited me one night at my apartment after meeting me in a bar downtown. Even if she had told him he was a kid and there was nothing he could have done.

So will it be just the two of you dining with us tonight? Brad asked.

Now I may be wrong, but I do believe the little shits smile widened when he saw the confusion, he had so obviously expected, written all over my face.

I think you're mistaken, Bradley, I said his name as though it were disinfectant on my tongue. Something I had to spit out in disgust. There's supposed to be over thirty people. I could tell by the obvious smirk masquerading as a smile that the young man wore that the party in my honor was apparently canceled.

Miss Sparkz informed me that it would just be you and her dining this evening, Mister Smith. Brad was enjoying himself. He didn't know why tonight had been so very important to me. He could not know of course. The only thing he did know was that it had ruffled me. Seeing me come unstuck seemed to please him. Maybe he did know about Kelly. Maybe this was the only way he could get any satisfaction without taking action. The obvious importance of the night had been snatched from me.  I could not hide it from all-knowing Brad. He said my name with as much venom as I had said his. Inside a warm glow filled me. My surname wasn't Smith, but it would do for the likes of Brad, who I had one night done a favor for. He seemed lacking in gratitude. Did my time with Kelly diminish the gratitude I felt he should have been showing me? Not in the slightest.

I'll see myself to the table, I told him. In truth, it didn't matter what he called me I didn't have any memory of my past, not since joining the Moon Group five years ago.

As you wish Mister Smith, Brad knew not to overstep. His smile was back in place.

I spotted Jennifer Sparkz straight away, or at least the back of her head. She had long black hair that ran down her back to her hips like some exotic dark river. I stood where I was just observing the people around me. They were all oblivious to one another, caught in the bubble of their own lives.  I imagined Jennifer was doing the same, most likely had been since she arrived. Watching the world go by was something of a hobby for her.  It was like an innate skill.

I looked at her as she watched the other diners all in their own private worlds, be it of couples or groups. She could look at a person and could tell you all about them as though she had been high school best friends with them. Whenever anyone challenged her on her observations she would put herself to the test by introducing herself, and any doubting minds to the stranger in question. Jennifer Sparkz was never wrong. Like me, she had no supernatural gifts of the mind. She was just uncannily good at guessing. She made knowing people an art even when she did not know them.

I slid myself down into the booth opposite her. She was wearing a long black dress that hid anything just below her neckline. She looked at me through thin-framed red spectacles. She took a sip from a glass of ice water turning her eyes to greet me as she watched me sit down. She wore no look of disappointment at my tardiness though I knew it was there inside of her.

So no party? I asked.

She spoke with a delayed pause. Each word carefully thought out. No. The Moon Group decided to cancel in light of recent revelations. It would appear you have only completed ninety-nine assignments. We won't be able to make you full partner just yet.

I scored a perfect hundred, Sparkz

She moved the menu stand upon the table to one side to reveal a small brown folder. She pushed it across the table towards me with her fingers tips. Her long nails were as bright a red as her lipstick.

I opened the folder.  It slid from my fingers as I felt a tremble of fear run through my body. Goosebumps sent a shiver of cold up my back. Inside was a single photograph. It was of a middle-aged blonde-haired man stepping through a doorway. His name was Felix McAvoy. The date stamp on the photo proved