Fallen Into Hell: Fallen: Book 2 Layna Snow (feel good books .txt) 📖

about where he’d sleep. The couch was out, although he could share Adrian’s bed. That vision was enough to make her snort in laughter. However, it didn’t really matter to her.

Sophie nodded to Thane and then crawled into his bed. It wasn’t as luxurious as Adrian’s but it was comfortable, and smelled like him.

It was a dark, spicy scent that pleased her, comforted her. She wanted to nuzzle into the pillow, but she knew they watched her so instead, she just closed her eyes. She tried to keep herself alert, tried to pay attention as the men moved around the room but it didn’t take long for her to fall into a deep sleep.

***

“Sir. I got another correspondence on that secure line for Timothy.” The voice said coming through the small box on the desk.

The man in the room smiled, his teeth sharp, white, and unfriendly. “Timothy who?” He asked, as if he didn’t have better things to focus his mind on then a random person! Especially one with so common of a first name!

“Phillips, Sir. He was being recruited for the Israel lab.”

For a moment, the man tried to remember, but it wasn’t a section that he dealt with personally.

He didn’t deal with that part of the business, although he kept an eye on it. That was Kiter’s job.

“Why are you coming to me with this?” He demanded. But only silence followed. “Well?”

“I, thought that you should know. My superior isn’t answering, and this might be urgent. Mr. Phillips is dead, Master. This message is from someone else. A woman. It appears that he was working with someone. This person requests a meeting.”

If anyone else was in the room, they’d have seen the unholy flash in the man’s eyes, changing slightly in his otherwise average face. But no one was there. “Do you have information on her?” He asked, his voice, although grim, was not overly high or low. It was mellow, forgettable.

There was a sound on the other end, as if someone was clearing their throat. “No, Sir. She didn’t identify herself, and it was made from the same IP address that Timothy had sent his through. We have researched further, but are unable to identify her.”

A growl lit through the room, causing the person on the other end to gasp. “Put a team on it then!” he said, pushing his hands through his short, neat brown hair.

“Ye- yess S-ir!” The voice stuttered.

As the intercom turned off, the man looked around the room. The office looked like any other CEO’s office. The desk was real wood, and was shined to a beautiful finish. His chair alone cost more than he was paying that idiot who dared to give him missing information. The computer he was looking at was state-of-the-art, with enough firewalls and protection to keep out the government. Any government.

He was more powerful than the president, and the dumb little Human bothered him with this insignificant detail? He had men who worked on that stuff. But now that it was brought to his attention, it had to be dealt with.

And his overwhelming need to control demanded that he focus on this himself. Everything was running smoothly.

He didn’t like not knowing who he was dealing with. He liked even less that the man they tried to recruit had revealed their business to anyone. He could not let her live with that knowledge. She had to be controlled.

Pulling up the file on his computer he read it over quickly.

They had heard that Timothy had tried to kill four people, all of which were Human—he knew because he had the blood tests. There were no Angels in Cold Wood, Ontario.

Or were there?

Did this person have information that Phillips didn’t?

Pushing the speed dial button on his phone, he waited until a voice answered. “Run a background check on Phillips, find who he contacted and set up a meeting.”

8

It was loud. Too loud. The music was trying to compete with the voices around them, or was it the other way around?

Even the laughter rose to an uncomfortable level, mixing with arguments and moans. People mingled, pushed, kissed and groped each other in the hot air.

The house was too warm, smothering her, pushing smoke into her lungs. No matter where Sophie went, she couldn’t escape the crush of bodies. But where was Annie, she needed to find her, needed to leave!

“Hey, who you lookin’ for, sweet’art? Wanna… you know… look together? If you know what I mean?” Sophie turned to find a strange man standing behind her, pressing into her space. Well, standing wasn’t the right word. He was swaying, holding onto the wall as if it would keep him up. His eyes were glazed as they concentrated on her. Even the air he breathed was gross, smelled of pizza and the sharp tang of alcohol. He was a mess, but she couldn’t say that! He’d probably take offence.

Already, she was feeling panicked, and this just raised that up a notch.

She wanted to get out, wanted to be ignored!

She didn’t want anything, didn’t like people touching her! Why couldn’t she just leave?

“I’m sorry,” she said to the man, but even as she said the words, she realized that she couldn’t hear herself, “I’m not interested,” she tried again.

And then the scene changed, she was no longer in the body heat and hard music, instead she found herself standing on the front lawn. She knew that Brooklyn was too drunk to drive. Her young face split into a sloppy grin.

She kept offering, but didn’t really want to leave the house party.

YES! That’s what this was. It was a party of one of Brook’s friends, and she had invited them.

Almost like a flashback, Soph remembered Annie pleading to go. And even though they were underage,