Sixteen-year-old Michael is the star of his high school basketball team, an Abercrombie model, and the most popular guy around. His life is perfect, but then he witnesses the murder of a reporter by a young assassin named Raven and is taken.

Waking up in a cellar, Michael can’t recall where he came from, or who he is. He is forced to prove to Zero, the head of the most powerful assassin organization in the world, that he will be useful as an assassin—or he will be killed on the ...

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Sixteen-year-old Michael is the star of his high school basketball team, an Abercrombie model, and the most popular guy around. His life is perfect, but then he witnesses the murder of a reporter by a young assassin named Raven and is taken.

Waking up in a cellar, Michael can’t recall where he came from, or who he is. He is forced to prove to Zero, the head of the most powerful assassin organization in the world, that he will be useful as an assassin—or he will be killed on the spot. After winning his death match against Raven, Michael reluctantly agrees to his new life as an assassin. Desperate to escape, Michael teams with Raven to discover a way to destroy Zero and find their real identities.

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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9781940192291
  • Publisher: Koehler Books
  • Publication date: 8/1/2014
  • Pages: 230
  • Sales rank: 1,471,374
  • Product dimensions: 5.80 (w) x 8.90 (h) x 0.50 (d)

Meet the Author

In addition to writing fiction, Megan Rockey spends most of her time singing as well as participating in her high school’s annual plays and musicals. Outside of school, she is a model, singer, actress, and martial artist in Taekwondo.

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Read an Excerpt

I wake to the sound of a fan.  I feel the cool air on my bare skin and I shudder.  I curled into a ball and warmed myself up.  My eyes fluttered open and it took a minute for my vision to adjust.  Where am I?  I stared at a brown, stony ceiling above me with cobwebs in the corners.  I shut my eyes, trying to remember what happened but nothing comes up.  Why can’t I remember?
     Slowly, I sat up and winced from a shot of pain.  Bandages covered my abdomen, and scrapes cover my arms and chest.  I pressured my mind to remember how I got these wounds but get nothing.  I sighed.  I placed my hands on the sides of my head and squeezed.  Remember!  I demanded myself.  Sadly, nothing comes up.
     I scanned the small room I’m in.  I’m sitting on a small mattress with a torn, worn-out blanket.  On the side, there’s a small crate with a small lamp.  On the opposite side of the room rested three crates stacked up onto each other with a mirror resting upon the crates.  A metal rack is screwed on the wall with a single glass and a jug of water.  It seems as though I’m in some cellar.
     I was a little wobbly as I stood up, but I took a couple of breaths for the dizziness to disperse.  I walked around the room, taking in every detail.  I stopped in the front of the two crates with the mirror and stared at my reflection.  I have blue eyes, golden blonde hair, a muscular build, and tan skin.  I smiled and see a full set of straight, white teeth.  So this is what I look like.  Who am I?  I frowned, disappointed I can’t remember.
     Feeling thirsty, I poured myself a glass of water and took big gulps.  A black Adidas backpack and a basketball was latent next to it caught my gaze.  I finished my glass of water and bent down, examining the backpack.  Excited, I opened the backpack and dumped the contents on the stone floor.  All I found was two basketball shorts and shirts, toiletries, sunscreen, a mini towel and a bathing suit.   There is nothing useful to help me figure out my identity.
     I changed out of my tan shorts and into basketball shorts and shirt.  As I was putting on the shirt, a photograph fell to the ground, and I picked it up.  In the picture is myself with a guy with brown hair and blue eyes around my age in the photo.  We’re both smiling and wearing basketball uniforms.  Who is he?  Family?  Friend?  Why can’t I remember anything?
     I placed the photograph on the rack and felt a little sting.  Blood seeped out of the paper cut on my thumb and images of an alley, blood spatters, and a white mask with bloody tears came into my mind.  I flinched.  What was that?  What happened to me?
     I glanced at the door.  Hesitantly, I placed my hand on the knob and turned it.   The door unlocked.  I pulled open the door.  A dark hallway with crates scattered all around and little light bulbs hanging from the ceiling for light are in my vision.  I must be in some facility.
     I stepped out into the hall, cautious.  This place gives out an eerie feeling.  I walked and walked until I heard something wiz pass my ear.  I froze.  What was that?
     I look behind me, trembling and saw a girl wearing a black miniskirt, tank top, and combat boots, holding a gun.  What the hell?  The girl stared at me with emerald eyes behind a white mask with bloody tears.  My head started to hurt, and I saw the image of her in front of the blood spattered wall.  Who is she?  Does she know who I am?
     The girl pulled the trigger and shot more rounds.  I dodged the bullets and did a backhand spring.  I took off running down the hall.  What the hell is going on?!  Why is a crazy, psycho masked girl trying to kill me?!
     I turned a corner and slammed into a metal rack, knocking it over.  I moaned and continued to run.  A big crate caught my attention, and I hid behind it.  I covered my mouth and tried to keep myself from breathing so hard.  Please, oh god, someone help me.
     Footsteps on the metal floor ceased my thoughts and I held my breath, forcing myself to not panic.  I glanced from the side of the crate and she wasn’t there.  Huh?  Where did she go?  I turned to look in front of me and there she stood a few feet away from me.  She shot at me, and I jumped out of the way.
     “Come at me with all you got if you don’t want to die.” She said.  I noticed a slight accent in her voice.
     She shot more rounds, and I dodged.  I pushed myself on my feet.  What does that mean?  What is she talking about?  I ran towards her, and my hand formed into a fist.  She took hold of my wrist and flipped me over.  She took a sharp blade out of her belt and placed it against my neck.  The blade felt cool against my skin, and a chill ran up my spine.
     “Come at me with all you got if you don’t want to die.” She repeated.
     Who is this girl?  What the hell is going on?  I don’t understand!  Why am I here?  Where am I?  Who the hell am I?
     I elbowed her in the stomach and tried punching her again, but she caught my fist in her hand and squeezed.  I swore and kicked her in the chest.  She flew backwards but landed silently on her feet as if she were a cat.  Who is this girl?  I punched her hard and she didn’t yelp or flinch.  Is this girl human?  It’s like she didn’t feel anything!
     The girl placed her knife back in her belt and formed her hands into fists, keeping them close to her face.  I felt myself gulp.  That’s a boxing position.  Hesitantly, I did the same but I felt unbalanced and my body quivered with unease.  I don’t know if I know boxing or not.  If I don’t, I’m going to be a pile of meat loaf when the fight is finished.
     I saw her shoulders start to move, and I dodged before she punched.  Her eyes widened behind her mask and then she resumed her position.  She came at me faster, and I was a second too late to block as her fists landed on my jaw, stomach, and ribs.  I staggered back, keeping up my fists and breathed heavily.  This girl is strong.  I’m way taller and stronger, but she knocked the wind out of me.
     I tasted blood trickling on the edge of my mouth, and I wiped the blood off.  It’s time to get serious.  I charged toward her.  She swung her leg to attack my ribs.  I sprawled down on the floor and grabbed her hips.  I pushed her down to the floor.
     I felt her jab her elbow into my back, and I picked her up.  I lifted her up and threw her hard against the wall.  I felt victorious until she pushed herself off the wall and landed impeccably on her feet.  This girl is not human.  Nobody could be able to do that.
     The girl pulls out two knives from her studded belt and tossed one to me.  I caught the knife with both hands and I stood still, irresolute of what I’m supposed to do.  She wrapped her hand around the handle, and I did the same.  The dagger felt light in my hands, and I swiped at her but she blocked with her knife.
     The knives scratched against each other and caused an earsplitting sound.  I put my full weight into the block, and she jumped back.  She swiped at my head, but I ducked and swung my leg at her ankle.  She lost her balance and jumped out of the way as I brought my knife down.  No matter how many times I swiped at her, she dodged my attacks easily.  What should I do?  I don’t want to die, not like this. 
     I stared at the floor, and she came towards me with her knife aimed at my stomach.  Come, I thought.  I felt myself darken, and I grabbed her wrist and flipped her.  I grabbed the knife out of her hand and aimed at her throat. She kicked at my knee, and I howled as pain shot up my leg.  She quickly got on her feet and elbowed me in the back, causing me to land on my face.  I turned over on my back and clutched my knee, gasping for breath.  I look to the side and see the knife.  I grabbed the knife with my trembling hand and tightened my grip.  I stood up and breathed deep breaths as the pain worsened.  The girl held up her knife in a defense position and came towards me again.
     Please work, I thought.  I brought my knife to block and then punched her hard in the face.  I swore as my hand throbbed from pain and she landed on her back, not moving.  Slowly, I walked towards her, seeing if she was conscious or not.  The girl unexpectedly jolted up, and I punched her face again.  She fell back down to the floor, and I pinned her hand that held the dagger.  I brought my dagger down with full force but stopped at the last second when half of her mask fell off her face.  I felt my hand quiver as I stared at her face.  This girl is so beautiful with her full lips, porcelain skin, and emerald eyes.  Why won’t I do it?  She tried to kill me but why won’t I kill her?
     The other side of her mask falls off, and I stare deep into her eyes.  Her eyes are so lifeless.  Her eyes have the feeling as if she wanted me to kill her.  Why?  People say that eyes are the window to the soul, but I can’t see anything.  Why is she so empty?  It’s like she feels nothing.  She is alive, but is not alive.
     Even though she tried to kill me, I won’t kill her.  I threw my dagger aside and stood up.  I winced from the agonizing pain in my ribs.
     A metal slide door caught my gaze, and I opened the door with all my might.  A bright light blinded me and I fell to my knees, shielding my eyes.  After a few moments, I removed my hands and felt a course of shock go through me.  Before me is a mass land of sand and cactuses.  Where the hell am I?
     I traced the earth with my finger as I felt the scorching sun burn my flesh.  What happened to me?  Why am I here?  Why won’t anyone answer me?  I clenched my fists, “WHO THE HELL AM I?” I shouted into the distance.
     “Michael,” a voice said.
     I whirled around, and saw the girl that attacked me earlier.  Her milky white skin glowed as the sun shined upon her.  Her emerald eyes sparkled, but still have the same emptiness I saw before.
     “What?” I asked.
     “Michael,” she repeated, “that’s your name.”
     I blinked, “Who are you?”
     “Raven,” she replied.
     “Where am I?”
     “Nevada,” she replied.  Why am I in Nevada?  Why can’t I remember?  Ugh, I just get more questions and no answers.
     “Why am I here?” She ignored my question.  She slipped her fingers through her hair and began braiding her hair.  I watched her intently as she braided her hair.
     “You did well,” a voice said.
     An old man, in about his late sixties, approached Raven and I wearing a white suit with a shiny gold watch and dark sunglasses.  He’s cleanly shaven and has gray hair with a black hat perched on top.  He flashed a smile, showing clean white teeth.
     I glared, “What do you mean?”
     “You passed the test therefore you proved yourself useful.” He replied. I narrowed my eyes at him, suspicious.  He’s avoiding my question.
     “What do you mean?” I repeated.  He sighed and took off his sunglasses, revealing icy blue eyes and stared at me as if I’m a gold trophy.  This guy gives me the creeps.
     “Don’t you remember?”
     I raised an eyebrow, “Remember what?”
     “Good.  The memory drug worked on you then.” He said, smiling.
      My hands turned into fists at my sides.  This guy… “You’re not answering my questions!  Who are you?  Why am I here?  What memory drug?  And what happened to me?”
     “You ask too many questions and that, unfortunately, could get you killed.” He said and snapped his fingers.  Raven pulled out her gun in a flash.

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