Team Zero Series 1-3 Boxed Set

by Rina Kent

If I couldn’t get what I wanted through legal methods, then illegal methods would do.

  Rules were never my thing in the first place.

  I was talking to Cindy, an engineer who had been actively working to knock her father down from the CEO chair in their family company, when I noticed Camille for the first time.

  She was behind the counter arranging and rearranging utensils. That’s what gave her away. She could’ve been OCD and had to rearrange them over and over to get the result she wanted, but OCD people never took their eyes off their task. Her fingers were busy with the utensils but her eyes were anywhere but on them.

  That’s the first thing I noticed. Her eyes. It wasn’t their forest green colour, but the warm, sparkly glow in them. It was a rare lively sight in my world.

  She was slender with the unflattering apron and the simple white sandals she wore. Her face was petite and soft and fuckable. That was all I thought about at the beginning. She was fuckable even though she looked way younger.

  However, I never saw Camille as young. She had an air of mature elegance mixed with an innocence that drew me in like a predator to his prey.

  Camille watched me when she thought I wasn’t looking. What she didn’t know was that I watched her, too.

  Her laugh was addictive. Her words were hushed when she spoke with her pink-haired co-worker. Her entire aura just beckoned me close.

  Samir, the Café’s owner, treated her like one of his kids, but she never seemed like a kid. She looked a complete woman to me.

  When I first approached her, I aimed for what I always wanted from women. A one night stand in an impersonal hotel room. I didn’t do relationships; I just took care of the sexual urges and that was it.

  Women wanted me for the social standing and the looks and I wanted them for their bodies. Simple. Shallow.

  But it was all I needed.

  Ever since I talked to Camille, I should’ve known she wasn’t like any other woman or that she’ll be what I didn’t know I needed.

  She didn’t fall for my tricks or my shallow exterior, she dived deeper. In fact, she was curious about me because of my sick, vile nature.

  The way her body moulded into mine brought me a pleasure I never knew existed.

  She had an innocence to her that I yearned to explore. I sensed the hidden darkness that I craved to bring out.

  Somewhere between her coming apart all over my hand and the way she looked at me while I face fucked her, I decided she was mine.

  I never thought of something as mine, but that curious French kitten was mine.

  I didn’t even fight it.

  For the first time in my life, someone saw me — the real me — and didn’t run away.

  She went above and beyond and fell in love with it. With me.

  Despite knowing what I was.

  Those three months we spent together were the happiest days of my life.

  With her wit and charm and complete submission, she won me over. She took my heart and wrapped it in her hands.

  She took my sanity, too, apparently, because the thought of seeing her with another man made me rage.

  The sense of possessiveness over Camille surprised me. It was primal and threatened my iron-like control.

  That was when I knew there were no limits to what I’d do for Camille to always be mine.

  Until Hades made her a target.

  He was the illegal route I took for my research. He proposed investment and I jumped all over it. I knew he planned vile things with the medicine, but I didn’t pay it much attention because I planned to screw him over as soon as I finished my research.

  Little did I know that no one screws Hades over.

  He caught my weakness.

  Camille.

  He threatened to kill her if I didn’t give him Omega — a volatile drug that was still under testing. Hades planned to start his underground assassins’ organisation, The Pit, through Omega and he was tired of my stalling.

  Camille already flowed in my veins then. Although I swore to never let anyone hold power over me, I was already in too deep with Camille. Fuck. I planned a family with her.

  I wanted to keep her.

  Hades ruined it all.

  That was why I met her at the wrong time. It didn’t work when you meet the right person at the wrong time.

  If I met her earlier, I wouldn’t have gotten involved with Hades. But what-ifs were useless in my life.

  I had to let her go to protect her. She needed to go back to France because England wasn’t safe for her anymore.

  The day I kicked her out of my flat was the most torturous day of my existence. I had to be harsh with her and made her believe she meant nothing to me.

  With every tear that fell from her eyes, I felt like being sliced open. The moment the door closed behind her, I could hear the crumbling pieces of my heart.

  I cried that day.

  I don’t remember crying when I was a kid. However, when I realised that I lost the one thing that gave meaning to my life, tears streamed down my cheeks.

  The months I spent alone after she left was the emptiest, most hideous time of my life. I dreamt about her and when I woke up to find her side of the bed empty, I wished for death.

  I never wished for death before. Not when I was abandoned. Not when I was beaten up. Not when I was adopted as a charity case.

  I survived them all. I survived everything.

  I couldn’t survive Camille.

  That was when I realised I couldn’t pretend that I couldn’t live without her.

  Going to find her in France was a selfish decision, but I couldn’t wake up to the emptiness anymore. I had to take the risk and just went for it.

  She fought me. Of course, she did. Camille was a proud, intelligent woman and I broke her heart. I broke mine in the process, too, so I had to make her see that.

  Like me, Camille couldn’t fight the explosive thing we had. It wasn’t just love. It was something bigger and brighter and all-consuming.

  She forgave me and with every moment I spent with her, I realised that I didn’t deserve this woman. She gave me her heart all over again and this time, I planned to protect it with my life.

  I hold our sleeping baby girl to her as Camille sits up in bed. We just returned from the hospital to my father in-law’s mansion in a small town in Southern France. This is where we live when I’m not in England, trying to get out of my contract with Hades — without putting my family in danger.

  Camille’s smile is bright and so full of life as I place Eloise in her arms and surround them both from behind.

  “Isn’t she beautiful?” Cam’s voice is thick with emotions as she stares at our newborn daughter. Her English is perfect, but she speaks with a French accent that’s music to my ears.

  “She takes after her mother.” I kiss the top of her blonde hair.

  My wife cranes her head to look at me and plants a passionate kiss on my mouth. “I love you, Dom. I love you so much.”

  “And I love you, baby girl. My life wouldn’t have meaning without you.”

  Camille is the light to my darkness.

  The brightness to my gloom.

  My reason for living.

  I’d do anything to protect her and Eloise. Even if I have to turn into a villain for the Team Zero children that Hades has gathered.

  Camille snuggles further into my embrace and we smile down at our girl.

  This, right here, is all I need.

  * * *

  The End

  Next is Crowed, the story of Dom & Cam’s daughter Eloise.

  (Author Note: You have to finish Crowed to the very end to know about Dom & Cam’s future. Everything is NOT what it seems).

  Lured Glossary

  This is a glossary of all the French words and expressions used in Lured. The author is bilingual and half-French, so the translation is more about context rather than a literal translation.

  * * *

  A

  Absolument: Absolutely.
r />   Attend: Wait.

  B

  Bah alors: well, hell.

  Bisous: XoXo.

  Bonjour: Good morning.

  Bonne journée: Have a nice day.

  Bordel: Hell.

  C

  C'est trop chaud ici: It's so hot in here.

  C'est de la merde: It's like hell.

  Comme le bordel: Like hell.

  Comment ça va?: How are you?

  Connard: Bastard.

  D

  D'accord: Okay.

  Dieu: God.

  F

  Fait demi-tour: Go back.

  Fils de pute: Son of a bitch.

  J

  Je pense: I think.

  J'en ai marre: I've had enough.

  Je suis toujours: I'm always…

  Je suis à toi: I'm yours.

  Je suis désolé: I'm sorry.

  Je veux tout: I want it all.

  L

  La ferme: Shut up.

  La vie commence après la première tasse de café: Life starts after the first cup of coffee.

  La vache: Damn it.

  M

  Ma belle: My beautiful [girl].

  Maman: Mum.

  Magnifique: Magnificent.

  Mais putain: Well, fuck.

  Mais qu'est ce qui...?: What the...?

  Merde: Damn.

  Merci: Thanks.

  O

  Oui: Yes.

  P

  Papa: Dad.

  Petite salope: Little slut.

  Prends soin: Take care.

  Q

  Quoi: What.

  R

  Retourne à la France: Go back to France.

  S

  Salut: Hey.

  S'il te plait: Please.

  T

  T'inquiète: Don't worry.

  V

  Va-t-en: Go on.

  Book Two - Crowed

  Crowed’s Blurb

  She wished for death. A killer showed up at her door.

  * * *

  Eloise

  Life left me when my family died.

  I thought I wanted to die, too, until death comes knocking on my door.

  Only, instead of killing me, he breathes new life into me.

  For the first time in my existence, I'm scared. Because when that life is taken from me, I'll have nothing left.

  * * *

  Crow

  I have one rule: leave no traces behind.

  She compromised my identity and needs to be eliminated.

  So simple, right?

  Not even close.

  When she welcomes death with open arms, I can't pull the trigger.

  Breaking my one rule would not only put my life in danger, but it would completely destroy hers.

  1

  Crow

  I know a few things about killing. I was kidnapped and turned into a lethal weapon in my early teens.

  But secret missions? Unknown targets? That’s a whole different fucking bag altogether.

  I lurk behind a rock on a cliff shore, my clutch tightens around my gun. The eerie night stakes its claim, turning the sky dark. Silver light from the moon shines on the sea’s surface. The crashing of waves is the only sound. No people. Not even a sight of the countless tourists who fill Southern France every summer.

  My gaze falls on my wristwatch. About two in the morning. My target ought to show up any minute now. My only sign is they will be wearing red. Why they would show up like a pig for slaughter is the fucking question. That’s why I’m about to fidget like a bloody newbie.

  Accepting the contract was a fucking mistake. But I had to leave England even for a while. If I remained, my mates in Team Zero and especially Hades, our leader, would find out I’m doing something completely unforgivable. Something that will end up with me hunted down and butchered to pieces.

  So I grabbed the first contract overseas, and now, here I fucking am. In the middle of nowhere, waiting for an invisible target.

  The Pit, the organisation that turned me into a nobody, accepts anonymous contracts as long as secure payment is guaranteed. Hades sold his soul to the devil for power and turned us into his pawns in order to build his fucking underground empire. Kidnapping us from the streets wasn’t enough, so he invested in other means to ensure our loyalty.

  A pounding starts at the back of my head and snaps to the forefront. I rub my temples and tighten my hold on the gun. Sweat breaks on the side of my face.

  Fuck.

  It’s coming back. Fucking withdrawal.

  It’s dangerous during a mission. In fact, if the target fights back, withdrawal symptoms would be fucking lethal. I can’t die now. Not when the rest of my mates still need saving.

  I shove my hand in the pocket of my leather jacket and retrieve a brown capsule and a needle. My shoulders tense, and although my head is still throbbing, disgust is a lot more fucking prominent.

  Omega drug. The reason for our fucking decimation. Our torture, but also our salvation.

  Twenty-five odd years ago, when Hades started The Pit, he brought in a little sadistic researcher. Doctor Fucking Johnson. The screwed doctor’s aim was to create a drug that ensures strength but also loyalty. The scientific comity shackled his research due to unethical methods. Enter Hades’ hunger for power. His men kidnapped fifty early teens and children to become Dr Fucking Johnson’s subjects.

  One of them is me.

  Fifty of us started Team Zero. Most died during the early years. The reason twelve of us reached adulthood is because our bodies accepted the drug. Then, out of the fucking blue, Diablo dropped dead about a month ago. Just like that. One minute he was laughing with us and toasting me with scotch, the next minute, he was sprawled cold on the ground.

  Team Zero don’t know it, but I searched for the autopsy report. Omega destroyed Diablo’s organs from the inside like fucking stage five cancer. Unlike cancer, it had no bloody symptoms. And certainly, no cure.

  At one point or another, all of Team Zero will end up like him.

  Hades always knew that. So after Team Zero, he didn’t give the second generation of assassins a sniff of that drug. He wanted his killers alive.

  After Diablo’s death, I started my battle against Omega. I refuse to die before trying to get my mates in Team Zero off this poison.

  However, the withdrawal symptoms are so fucking painful and they’re now about to puncture my skull. If I don’t take the drug, I’ll be an easy target.

  I glare at the fucking capsule. If I inject even one shot, not only my determination level will skyrocket, but I will also forget what the fuck I am in my search for my next kill. I don’t have a fucking choice. When the drug kicks in my system, I become a bloody robot with only one goal: kill.

  That’s why we usually take our shots right before a mission. Those who don’t take killing contracts won’t be given their doses of Omega. Team Zero accepted a lot of contracts to have more Omega. Because this little capsule is not only addictive but also forbids us from thinking about anything. It blurs everything. Our memories. Our lies. Our touch with humanity. We became fucking robots destined to kill.

  Not anymore.

  Now, I have a fucking choice. I will take the withdrawal symptoms and the pain, but I won’t be a slave to Omega again.

  I won’t die a fucking nobody like Diablo.

  Only Team Zero remember him — when we’re not drugged out of our minds. And Team Zero are fucking nobodies under Omega’s influence.

  I shake my head and shove the capsule and needle back in my pocket. My head pulses as if in protest. I grit my teeth. Just a few more minutes and it will pass.

  Two am sharp. My gaze roams around the empty beach. Still no target. I’m about to scurry around the beach when a rustle sounds from behind me. My senses are less sharp than when on Omega. Add the throbbing in my head, and I’m a fucking cripple. It’s as if they knew that.

  I don’t turn in time.

  Pain slices straight into my shoulder. I clutch the wound and stag
ger backwards. I attempt to pull the trigger. No bullet comes out. Instead, I fall. Darkness creeps into the corners of my eyes, and I can’t even lift my head.

  I’ve been shot before, but the fucking withdrawal is making this a lot more bloody dramatic.

  A shadow looms over me, but my fingers aren’t even able to pull the trigger. Someone screams in the distance.

  The shadow yanks my gun away. I try to clutch their sleeve, look at them, but my hold is too weak.

  No one but The Pit’s assassins and Hades know about killing contracts. The clients don’t know who will pick the contract. Since the target didn’t show up, someone set me up. Someone wants me dead.

  The shadow retreats. I hear distorted sounds from two civilians. Male. Female. Their muffled French words are horrified, talking about calling an ambulance. The police.

  Fucking hell. If I’m caught, in a foreign country, it’s game bloody over.

  I try to get up. Escape…

  The fucking darkness swallows me whole.

  2

  Eloise

  Everything is empty.

  The house. The garden. Me.

  I drag my body out of the spacious kitchen, leaving my soup barely touched, and saunter into the gigantic sitting hall. Old wood creaks under my feet. I always wanted to fix it, but what’s the point?

  The washed-out carpet barely hides the cracks in the wooden boards. The tall windows’ glass hasn’t been wiped in ages, creating ghostly memories and preventing the late afternoon light from shining inside.

  My ancestral home, just like me, is trapped in endless darkness. I’m starting to wonder if there will ever be a way out.

  Most of the time, I stop wondering altogether. My shrink calls it dissociation. I call it being numb.

  That numbness has been lodged inside me for so long, I don’t think it will ever go away.

  I don’t want it to go away. The alternative is destructive.

  The alternative means to care, and I have no energy to care anymore. For long months, I’ve been a ninety-year-old woman trapped in a twenty-five-year-old body. And like any ninety years old, I’m waiting for it to simply end.