Cod Ghost Riley Novels & Stories

Humans don’t have as strong of a scent as werewolves do, but Riley always smells a bit like the ocean and key lime pie. “Ainsley, what’re you doing with this mutt? Are you keeping him as a pet?” Gavin’s gravelly voice sneers as he leans up against the lockers next to us. I look up to see him standing uncomfortably close. Jordan and Mark are right behind him snickering. “Fuck off, Gavin. Leave her alone.” Riley moves me behind him to confront Gavin. I see Gavin’s expression grow darker. “Or what? You gonna do something about it, mutt?”

That's good, eventually she will lose her sense of reasoning soon, for a cup of water. Draco bowed his head in respect to Mr B along with his other men that were inside the room. Agent Cody was nowhere to be found, he had him in another job which was trying to find out if Riley has any family members, one that wasn't made known to the Agency based on the fact that she was an orphan. Mr.B sat down, a few meters away from the blood, Riley's blood that had dirtied the floor. Another man came walking inside the room carrying a briefcase that was handed over to Mr.B.

Richie typed a quick, cryptic message under the file transfer: Found a wild rogue male in the Obsidian line who bleeds agony into his strings. Not expecting the iron-fisted vanguard to break his silence across time zones, Richie tossed the burner phone onto his nightstand and closed his eyes to let his inner beast recuperate from the night's territorial tension. Within seconds, the device rattled violently against the wood, the caller ID flashing a secure military frequency. It was Cody. “Where did you harvest this bloodline, Richie?” Cody’s deep, gravelly voice barked through the speaker, devoid of his usual calculating calm. “Uncle Cody, what’s wrong?” Richie asked, sitting up instantly as

Ted Making my way out of the coffee shop, I headed back to the hotel with some coffee and donuts. I figured Violet would be hungry and I needed her to have her strength. I was pretty confident that she would be there when I arrived back at the hotel. I had my men watching in case anything happened while I was going. I made my way into the lobby where everything seemed to be the same as when I left. Making my way to the elevator, I pushed the button as the doors opened right up. Steeping in, I hit the button again and rode up to my floor. Once the doors opened again, I walked down the hall toward the room. I was about three doors away when I noticed something was different. The closer I got,

Matt was laying back with his eyes closed, most likely trying to use the time to heal from his injuries. I had walked over and scooped her up as careful as I could, Riley barely stirring in my hold. After setting her on the bed and covering her up with the blanket, I stood there for longer than was possibly necessary, she looked angelic. The features that had been twisted into anger and hurt over her friend, were now smooth and relaxed, and I swore it made me want to personally go and kill every single person that dared do anything that would cause Riley any type of pain. The office smelled faintly of smoke and paper. This specific office was Cade’s, Taylor didn’t have one due to personal ch

The man grips his collar, the blood stains his shirt. “You know,” Riley moves his gaze down at the shot leg “You are the one,” he utters “Who deserves to die,” he moves the pistol to the wound, the gun point on the already holed muscle, he squinted his eyes ignores the push of the man as his strength is already drained. Shot!

You never walked in without being watched. At the far end, a battered steel door sat beneath a flickering red light. Riley walked up and knocked three times — slow, fast, slow. A slit opened in the metal. A woman’s eyes narrowed from the other side. “You’re supposed to be dead.” “Hi, Romy,” Riley said. “Missed you too.” The door creaked open. --- Romy looked like a ghost that had survived a fire and then lit another one just for fun. Tall and sharp-eyed, she wore a dark trench coat with knives strapped to her thighs and silver rings on every finger. Her hair was coiled into dreadlocks streaked with blue, and her gaze lingered too long on Jaxon before she turned to Riley with arms crossed.

Jack drew our attention back to the name Raphael had tagged Raymond back then. “Black cold doesn't exist, Jack. You checked it up yourself” I responded. “Black cold?” Gideon asked, “Or red coal?” And I snapped to look at him. He was driving. “Wow,” Jack exclaimed, “That's the fucking name!” He screamed. “I just checked it out now. That's Raymond's fucking name, The Red Coal. How come we never thought of that? How did you know?” He asked the same question I wanted to ask Gideon.

Milo presses, his voice calm, steadying. Cody hesitates, glancing around the pub as if expecting someone to materialize out of the shadows. “He’s got a spot, a place he frequents. A pawn shop. Down near the old market. Sometimes he spends days in there.” He says. “Doing God knows what.” “Thank you, Cody,” Milo says, reaching into his inner jacket pocket. He pulls out a thick wad of bills and slides it across the table. Cody’s eyes widen, and he snatches the cash, stuffing it into his pocket without even counting it.