Falling from the Light (The Night Runner Series Book 3) by Regan Summers Read Free Book Online Page A

frowned and said something to him in Spanish. I was nowhere near fluent, but thought I caught the words for daylight and burn the hell up . He glanced sidelong at me and went back to window gazing. Of course he wouldn’t be able to escort me during the day. Plus, there was the whole Goya thing to deal with. Better to get that out of the way early. Bronson would appreciate a prompt response, and then I wouldn’t have to think about it anymore. Unless…
    “Will you be accompanying us all the time, Petr?” I asked, trying to sound inquisitive rather that suspicious. He eyed me from beneath drawn eyebrows. For a small man with such smooth hands, he did stern quite well.
    “No, Miss Franklin, I will not.”
    I scrunched up my nose. “You’ve got to stop calling me that.” I’d only just gotten to the point where everyone I associated with knew me by my real name. It was kind of nice.
    “It’s to help you remember. All of you.” He handed me a large envelope, then gave another to Mickey. “Andrea Franklin. Maria Fuente. Passports, papers, IDs, room keys, and credit cards. You’ve got some background information in those packets. We kept it close to the truth so it would be easier to remember. Familiarize yourself with them. Track the details you add.” As if it was that easy to make up a new identity. I’d been two other people in my short life and found that the best way to keep others from becoming suspicious was to say very little, not invent extra details.
    “Why did you set up an ID for Mickey?” I asked.
    “Her family had a series of misfortunes at their recreational property. Flash flooding. They’re dealing with the cleanup to the house and excavation of several vehicles.”
    “They’re not coming back?” Mickey asked, apparently unconcerned with Petr being up to date on the details on her extended family.
    “Not immediately,” he replied.
    “I hope they like the mud as much as I like this.” Mickey jerked a credit card out of the packet and beamed. “The thing you must understand about Maria Fuente is that, when she was very young she fell out of a tree and bumped her head. Ever since that day, she has been unable to stop herself from compulsively buying clothing and cutting-edge electronics.”
    “You damaged the shopping restraint section of your brain?” I asked, laughing.
    She nodded solemnly, fully in character. “The doctors were perplexed. It was written about in medical magazines.”
    “Anything you use should be verifiable.” Petr smacked his hand against his folio with each detail. “These names in search engines will yield old addresses, defunct or idle social media accounts, and references to your schooling.”
    “How good are these IDs?” I asked, turning over the passport in my hands. It appeared real, down to the weird dot-matrix-looking print and seal. Money really could buy you anything.
    “Infallible.”
    “On Facebook, Maria Fuente ‘likes’ many boy bands,” Mickey said mournfully as she read from her dossier. “I don’t think I can pull this off.”
    I rifled through my packet. The room key wasn’t the card kind, but a large, antiquated metal key.
    “What’s this hotel like?” I asked. Petr closed his folio.
    “Luxurious. It’s an inclusive destination resort for affluent vampires from all the territories. It’s regarded as neutral ground, and governed by a female named Chev. She’s the face and the voice of her tribe, and is involved in everything from the entertainment and oversight of the staff to discipline of the guests who violate the rules of Tenth World.”
    “Tenth World,” Mickey cooed. “It sounds amazing. Will there be many vampires there?”
    “Hundreds. You’ll enter and exit through a side stairwell off the parking garage. It’s used by the human staff and companions. I advise you to segregate yourselves from the other guests. The arrangements for your accommodations were made with Chev herself. She will honor Mr. Kelly’s