Fallen Angel: Mythic Series, Book 2

Read Fallen Angel: Mythic Series, Book 2 for Free Online Page A

Book: Read Fallen Angel: Mythic Series, Book 2 for Free Online
Authors: Abbie Zanders
Tags: Romance, paranormal romance, Vampires, Angels, fantasy romance
mentioned Ryssa’s name – hadn’t said anything. And why would it be such a big deal?  It could have only been a couple of bucks, right? 
    Certain that his lack of sleep and worry over his mother were messing with his ability to think clearly, he pushed aside the niggling doubts that refused to go away completely and headed for the shower. The sky was a clear, brilliant blue, and the sun was shining. He’d promised his mother a day in the park, and that’s exactly what he was going to give her.

Chapter 4 – A Man’s Gotta Do...
 
    I t had been three nights since he’d gone to that club. Three nights his mother had waited eagerly for Ryssa to come and see her again. Three nights that she’d been disappointed.
    That is why he found himself sitting in his car, staring at the run down collection of bricks that looked like it might collapse any moment. It was definitely not because of the deep, disturbing notion that had taken up residence in his gut, the wholly illogical one that he had somehow made things difficult for Ryssa.
    In the first place, he hadn’t done anything. And in the second place, she was no concern of his. The only reason he was even there was because he couldn’t stand to see his mother disappointed. Ryssa had said she’d come, and he was going to see to it that she kept her word.
    David rechecked the address the private investigator had given him several times, certain he had made a mistake. People didn’t actually live here, did they?  The neighborhood – if he could call it that – looked like pictures he’d seen of war-ravaged cities after a bomb had been dropped. How could a place like this exist in this day and age, and only a short driving distance from his home? How had he never seen it before?
    For all intents and purposes, the area appeared deserted. The streets and sidewalks were empty. No one was walking or jogging; there were no children playing or yelling, no teens loitering on the corners. David fought the chill that settled in the base of his spine and the sense of bleak hopelessness and despair that seemed to permeate the air.
    Ignoring his instincts, he gritted his teeth and forced himself to open the door and step out of his car. He was doing this for his mother, he reminded himself. Not because he wanted to ease his niggling conscience. Ryssa was fine. She had been staying away because she was a cold, heartless con artist. She had realized she wasn’t going to be able to run her scam, and that’s why she hadn’t been by.
    Yet even as he thought that, the image of clear gray eyes filled with dread appeared in his mind and raised a tiny wisp of doubt.
    His footsteps echoed loudly as he crossed the street, unable to completely avoid the broken glass that seemed to be everywhere, embedding itself in his leather-soled shoes. He thought of the torn sneakers Ryssa had been wearing that night she showed up at his door. How did she walk around without cutting her feet to ribbons?
    Moving quickly, he made his way up the crumbling steps and into the dank foyer of the dilapidated building. He took the stairs to the second floor, deliberately trying to avoid touching anything, just as he tried not to stare at the graffiti adorning every available surface. The chilling black and red hieroglyphic symbols meant nothing to him, yet somehow made his blood run cold.
    The numbers on the doors were long gone, but enough of the faint dirty outlines remained for him to be fairly certain he’d found the one he was looking for. Taking a deep breath, he raised his hand, formed it into a tight fist, and brought it down once, then twice more. Like his footsteps, the knock sounded too loud in the dim hallway.
    Seconds ticked by in silence with no indication of any movement within. He knocked again, louder this time.
    “Whatcha want?” The voice came from behind him, a low growly voice that belonged to a small, rat-faced guy with dark, beady eyes and sharp features.
    David considered him for a

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