Layla Gray Spy Racers Novels & Stories

her arms trembled, then she hit the ground with a soft grunt. One of my new team members, Layla, a tracker specialist stepped forward, holding the empty injector. "She's down," Layla confirmed. "Exactly twenty seconds... Fast one." "She's strong," I muttered, stepping closer to Ayla's now unconscious body. I knelt beside her, checking her pulse. She was still alive, breathing steady. "She'll sleep for a few hours," I said. "That's all we need." Layla whistled, and the black van we'd parked in the woods earlier came rumbling forward. The side doors swung open with a mechanical hiss.

She felt much more relaxed, and this spy no longer seemed like a monstrosity. Layla Smith, a distant relative of Lilian on her mother’s side, was the caregiver’s name. She was around forty years old. Layla appeared to be an honest woman who spoke a few words and lied. She brought little with her, and neither did Hailey. With teamwork, they unpacked fairly quickly. Because this was a special occasion, Hailey packed a red packet for Layla. The latter thanked her, saying, “Thank you, young lady,” and pocketed the money.

"Damn, Hayley your room has not been inhabited in what now, ten years? I don't know who would place that there. Don't trap a storm in a teacup. This could've been just an accidental discovery. " "So you're asking me to just turn a blind eye?" He shrugged. "Why would anyone want to spy in on you Hayley?" I shook my head disbelievingly. "Hello, I'm the future Luna! I suggest we search Lance's room too." Gray let out a snort and then laughed. "Over his dead body. Not even I will be allowed to look at his room." I frowned. "Because he is what? A god?" Gray's brow raised. "Yes!"